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#i put them in the fridge honey
nonranghaes · 27 days
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it's while you're putting away groceries that you notice a small box of cookies that you hadn't put on the list. you'd meant to, but your memory isn't the best, so by the time minho was making a trip to the grocery store alone, you had already resigned yourself to getting them next time you were there.
"honey?" you hold the box up as minho looks up from where he's sitting in front of the open fridge, putting away the cold stuff. "what's this?"
he blinks at you, brows rising just a little. "you wanted those?" he turns back to the fridge, carefully moving a carton of eggs so he can slide in a tub of yogurt so it sits with the other near-empty container. "did i get the wrong kind? i thought those were the right ones--"
"they are." you shift your weight uncomfortably. "i just... i didn't put them on the list."
"so?" minho doesn't look up again, carefully putting away strawberries. "you said you wanted them. i just assumed you forgot."
when you don't respond, minho slowly looks up, watching the quiet way your shoulders are shaking now. oh. oh. he's already rising to his feet, rushing over to you, asking if he did something wrong. you always feel silly when such obvious kindness gets met with you getting overwhelmed, but minho knows enough about the way you grew up. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. this is far from the first time that this has happened since the two of you started living together, but it still hits hard every time something like this happens.
"stop that," he says with this playful lilt to his voice, the way he always sounds when he's trying to cheer you up in moments like these. "if you're crying, then i'm a bad boyfriend."
but you just wrap your arms around him, shutting your eyes. he listened. he remembered what you said. "it's dumb--"
"it's not dumb." he rubs circles into your back. "you'll get used to it. i promise."
you think you wouldn't mind that. "minho?" you mumble as you turn your face, just so that he can hear you clearer. "thank you for listening."
and he chuckles, curling around you once more. there's things to be done, but he'll always savor holding you like this when he can. "that's what i'm here for."
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ms-demeanor · 10 months
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Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?
Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.
If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?
I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."
Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.
My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.
I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.
It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.
This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.
I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.
It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)
If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.
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hughmanbean · 8 months
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Loving Threats
Inspired by a song and its remake. But I am trash at syncing lyrics to storybeats.
Danny and Jason met in the ghost zone when Jason was dead, but he forgot it all coming back to life. When the two of them were together, they went through the entire song and dance (literally) of asking each other out.
I'm serious. There were like 10 different musical scenes with varying themes. It was Fenton Romance at its finest. And Jason's old school romance heart was certainly played a large part too.
It was their love language. Dramatic acts, vague threats and all.
Post revival and reconnection with the Batfam, Jason spots a familiar face. A flood of memories wash through him, and with it a bout of giddiness. Though he's currently dressed as Red Hood, Danny'll be able to tell who he is and keep quiet. Just have to greet him in a way that he'll recognize.
---
Danny is out taking the kids for a walk. Dan was grumpy since he wasn't allowed any ecto chips, for both his health and as punishment for severely beating a guy who tried to mug Danny without permission yesterday. Ellie is quite cheerful, since she's going to visit the Crocodile and Zombie sewer-dudes when Danny's not looking.
All of a sudden, Red Hood, casually wielding a gun, approaches Danny. He makes an overly familiar gesture, wrapping an arm sideways around Danny's waist. He whistles under the hood, a faint green glow from the white eyespaces.
"Well who do we have here? You look half dead, honey."
Danny looked at him. Horrible pick up line? Check? Thin veneer of confidence? Check. Zero self control around Danny? Check.
Jason. The rancid ecto signature is new, though. Honestly, not surprised he's a crime lord now.
"Well, you know how it is. The kids have been running me ragged. And you sure haven't been any help."
Danny puts on an innocent smile. Jason sidles closer. A few bystanders watch them with varied expressions.
"Well you don't need to worry about that now. How about you and I go somewhere more private?"
---
"A crime boss, huh?"
Dan is raiding the fridge. Ellie is watching a fight on TV.
"It was a... necessary step. I promise I would've visited you sooner if I had known."
"It's fine. What else happened while you were gone?"
"Well..."
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shadowwfoxx · 26 days
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Give my Husband More Food
Logan Howlett x Reader
Summary: You decided to prank Logan by doing the TikTok trend where you give your significant other more food and see their reaction
“Dinner’s ready Lo!” You shout as you plate yours and Logan’s dinner. Tonight you made steak and fries, one of Logan’s favorite dishes.
You hear heavy footsteps pad making their way to the kitchen. Logan enters the kitchen looking eager to eat.
“Someone’s excited,” you say giggling, opening the fridge to grab him a beer before placing it on the table.
“M’starving sweetheart and it smells amazing,” Logan says as he sits down in his chair. Logan is known to be a grumpy man most of the time, but the key to his heart is a delicious plate of food (with beer ofc).
You grab the plates of food before walking over to the table. Logan rubs his two hands together as you set his full plate down in front of him.
“God, looks amazing, thank you baby.” He says as he leans in to give you a peck on the lips. He immediately gets started, cutting his steak to eat.
Just as he’s about to stuff his mouth full of food, your plate catches his eye. He froze in place, now confused why you have barely had any steak and like 3 french fries on your plate.
“Sweetheart where’s the rest of your food?” He asks as he puts down his fork.
“Oh there wasn’t enough.” You say.
“What’ya mean there wasn’t enough?” His face twists in confusion.
“Well we didn’t have enough steak or potatoes and you said you were hungry so I gave you most of it.” You say as pop a fry in your mouth.
Logan’s brows furrowed as he looks at you confused. You eyes meet his confused expression. “Trust me I’m ok. Besides I’m not even that hungry.” You reassure.
He shakes his head at you. “Honey that’s not even enough to feed a damn bird.” He says gesturing towards your plate.
“Logan it’s fine, eat your food.” You say. Just as you’re about to pick up your fork, Logan picks up both of your plates and swaps them.
“Logan!” You whine.
“Go. Eat. I’ll eat whatever you don’t finish.” He says as he leans back into the kitchen chair, crossing his arms over his chest. You both sit there looking at each other.
You quickly find the opportunity to get up to try and steal your plate back, only for Logan to snatch it from the table now guarding it
“Uh uh. Sit down and eat baby c’mon.” He says as he nods his head towards the chair.
“My girl needs to eat. So eat.”
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kbwrites · 2 months
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JJK Guys and Pet Names for their S/O
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Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji
⚝tags: f!reader (use of "babygirl" and "princess"), slightly suggestive, mild language,
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Satoru Gojo: Babe, Pretty, Sweets, Pookie
- “Baaaabe, please can we try it? Just once and I swear I won’t ask again!”
- “Hey pretty, transferring you some money right now! Why? Why not?”
- “But sweets! It’s our 14th month anniversary of course we’re going on vacation. I already told your boss to give you off.” 
- ”Pookie don’t be mad! I didn’t know that cake in the fridge was yours. No I didn’t see your name on the box…”
Kento Nanami: Honey, Love, Dear
- ”Hello honey, I’m picking up dinner. Would you like your usual?”
- ”Good Morning love, please make sure to take your vitamins. I left them on the nightstand.”
- ”Yes dear, of course, I’ll marry you. I’m pretty sure we already are, but I’ll do it again for you.”
Suguru Geto: Angel, Baby, Princess
- ”Angel could you please put my hair up for me? Only looks nice when you do it.”
- ”That dress was fucking made for you baby, do me a favor and buy 3 more. You still have my card right?”
- ”I’m sorry I came home late princess, let me make it up to you?”
Toji Fushiguro - Doll, Mama, Baby Girl, Sweetheart
- ”Hey doll, just got paid. How about I take you out tonight?”
- ”Y’alright mama? I wasn’t too rough was I?”
- ”Didn’t mean to worry you, baby girl, m’alright I swear.”
- ”Sweetheart… d’ya really think you could walk around with those fuckin’ shorts on and get away with it?”
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k
cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 
"Who is this?" 
Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 
"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 
"There's someone in my apartment." 
"You're sure?" 
You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 
"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."
It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 
The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 
You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 
You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 
The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 
You hang up the phone. 
"I know you're here." 
Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 
You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.
You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 
They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me
Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 
Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 
That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 
You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 
In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 
What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 
You could be dead in the next two minutes. 
thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 
If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything
After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 
Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 
"Found you." 
You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 
He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 
You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 
He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 
You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 
"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 
You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 
"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."
"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 
You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 
"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 
You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.
You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 
"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 
You won't negotiate. You don't answer.
Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 
"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 
"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 
"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 
"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 
"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 
You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.
"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 
You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 
Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 
"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 
"Aw. To begin with, sure." 
You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 
"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.
"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 
"We both know you don't like nice." 
"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 
The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 
There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.
You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 
"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 
"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 
You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 
Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 
"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 
You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 
Hotch moves in. 
"Drop the weapon." 
Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 
You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 
"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 
You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 
"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 
"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.
"You were talking him down." 
"No, I was surrendering." 
"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 
"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.
"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 
You hang your head. 
— 
Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.
He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.
"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 
The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 
"That doesn't need a cast?" 
Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 
You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.
JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 
What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 
You'll be gentle? 
No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?
He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 
Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 
"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 
"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 
"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 
You don't answer. 
"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 
"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 
"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 
"Don't think so." 
"It's shock," says the paramedic. 
"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 
"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 
"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 
You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.
"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 
"Her boss." 
"Not her partner?" 
"He's my closest friend," you say. 
He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 
"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 
You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  
He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 
"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.
Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 
"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 
"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 
"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 
"No. No, I want you to." 
It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.
He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 
You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.
"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 
"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 
"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 
"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 
"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 
He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.
"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 
"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 
You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 
"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 
"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 
You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 
"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 
"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 
Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 
"I knew you'd come," you finish.
He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 
That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 
You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 
Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o
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katya-goncharov · 2 years
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just invented Chicken In Blankets, and i'm slightly worried i'm going to burn the house down
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januaryembrs · 1 year
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MAGIC BROWNIE | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader
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Description: Sunshine girl accidentally eats one of Eddie’s “Magic Brownies” and he takes care of his baked girlfriend.
Word count: 3.3k
Trigger Warnings: weed obviously, accidental drug usage, quick mention of child neglect when talking about Eddie as a kid not eating enough. Reader gets undressed but no sex (eddie has a horny thought however)
main masterlist
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This was not how he had expected their day to go. She loved baking for him and Wayne, loved making sure her scrawny, lanky boyfriend was fed, and boy could he eat. Wayne swore he had the stomach(s) of a cow. Any food left on his plate? Give it to Eds. Food ready to go out of date? Nope, Eds is already scarfing it down. Weekly food shop was just brought in? Munson is dining like a king before the fridge door is even open.
Maybe it was from when he lived with his dad and he would forget to feed the little, jet black haired boy for days on end and he would have to be given half his teacher’s lunch when they saw how gaunt he was through his mop of curls. Maybe he had yet to adjust to the idea that he would still have food without storing it for winter like a damn bear, either way she never dared to think about her sweet Eds and his kind uncle going hungry on weeks when money was tight.
But when dessert became an option, Eddie’s sweet tooth was in heaven.
They had the house to themselves on Sundays; Wayne was always pulling doubles on a weekend to make up the extra cash, the garage was always busiest then. They already had leftovers from last night to sort them for the evening, so what else better than to cook than a thick tray of rich brownies she’d practised not even a week earlier.
Unbeknownst to her, Eddie had done his own kind of baking.
“Okay, be there for seven,” He said into the corded phone, biting at his nail as he thought. Nodding to himself, before remembering they couldn’t see him, he hummed a goodbye and hung up the phone.
“Who was that?” She asked, emerging from the loo with freshly wet hands, wiping them on her jeans as she tied the pretty little pink apron around her waist again. Watching her lean down to open the oven door, he smiled to himself, handing her the matching oven mitts.
“No one,” He muttered, shamelessly watching her ass as she bent down to pick out the hot tray, “Just got a package to drop off later,”
“What, like to the post office?” She asked, her eyes flicking to him innocently, shoving the pan out for him to smell.
Smiling toothily at her, as if he knew a secret she didn’t, he kissed her forehead sweetly. “Where else would I take a package, sweet girl?” He murmured, before shoving his finger in the centre of the chocolatey goodness with a childish raspberry blown through his cherry lips.
Hissing when his finger met the hot sugar in the centre, he shoved the digit into his mouth with a groan of delight and pain.
“It’s still hot, honey,” She scolded, putting the tray onto the side to assist the frowning boy.
“You’re still hot, baby,” He said, his words distorted by his finger being in the way of his tongue. Pulling it from his mouth, she inspected the spit covered skin carefully, seeing where it raised red slightly.
Giggling at his words, she kissed the tip gently, unaware of the way his eyes seemed to follow the way her mouth pressed to his burn so carefully, feeling his tummy shiver at his girlfriend's pure actions.
“Feel better Eds?” She asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, his tongue going dry immediately. His chin bobbed for a second, scrambling for words, before he nodded wordlessly, turning away from her before she could see the way his cheeks blazed a rosy heat of their own.
“Um, I just gotta-” He stammered, heading for his room as she pulled out a sharp knife to cut the slab into segments. His mouth was dry as he dug out the brownies he’d made himself two days prior, though these weren’t as chocolatey as his sweet girlfriend’s and more rammed to high (ha) heavens full of weed.
Did he prefer the taste of hers? Yes, any day of the week she was an amazing cook. Had he burnt the top and left a thick crust whilst somehow managing to undercook the middle? Yes, though he was still at odds with himself just how he’d done so. But were his little gooey creations going to see him and Wayne through two weeks of rent? Absolutely.
Dashing back to the kitchen with the blue tupperware under his arm, he stopped long enough to see her transferring them into some kitchen paper inside her own container, her fingers gentle enough to carve ice let alone handle confectionery.
“I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of some things. How about I swing by Family Video on the way back and rent us The Shining?” He asked, a large, scuffed hand coming up to her face to cup her cheek, brushing away the flour that dusted her eyebrow.
She scrunched up her nose, but kept his doe gaze nevertheless, big, Bambi browns staring down at her, entranced.
“I dunno, Eds. I like those films but they always make me wanna puke afterwards,” She said, lips twisting in disgust, “Plus I get kinda scared when Wayne’s not home anyway, I don’t wanna be thinking of crazy axe wielders. Hawkins is crazy enough as it is,”
Putting the tupperware on the side, next to her pretty pink one, he took her warm cheeks in his grasp and tugged her face closer.
“Which is where I come and hold your hair back and protect you from the intruders, silly girl,” He asked, a kiss going to the tip of her nose, “What does my lady want instead then? Gremlins?” Another to her forehead, “The Lost Boys?” There goes another to her chin of all places, “Labyrinth? Come on, I know you have the hots for Bowie as a Goblin King ya’ little freak,” He blew a raspberry on the apple of her cheek, a big wet kiss following it.
Giggling some more and shoving him away, rubbing her face on her shoulder, “How about E.T?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.
He stilled, eyes wide with his own grimace. “E.T? Now that’s a scary movie,” He said, watching his girlfriend roll her eyes and smirk, “I’m serious. That wrinkly mother fucker gave me nightmares, with his extendable neck and his weird eyes and shit-”
“Alright, alright, Labyrinth it is.” She conceded, leaning on her toes to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, “I’ll still need you to hold my hand all night, alright Goblin King?” She asked, watching his cheeks flush as she leaned in closer to him, “Movie night rules, unfortunately,”
He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything, just that his mouth had moved in some kind of agreeing motion, his eyes trained on the way she licked her pretty lips as she leaned in for another kiss. Two years together and she still had his heart hammering away behind his ribcage whenever she kissed him.
He barely remembered getting in his van with the package, its hot pink lip staring at him from the passenger seat, the thought of her shampoo smell invading his nose whenever she got so close he could see each individual pigment in her eye. He barely remembered dropping it off, other than taking the money and wishing his customer a good evening, “I know I will be,” He said under his breath, flooring it to Family Video.
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“One Goblin King and empty hand at your request, fair maiden,” Eddie said, practically tumbling through the door, his van all but ditched in the driveway. Looking around for his sweet girlfriend, he furrowed his brow when he heard not even a peep in response. Usually she would be bouncing over to him with a kiss ready on her lips made just for him, maybe even a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn if he was really lucky.
But nothing.
Twitching the curtains, he made sure her car was in the drive, and just as he’d thought, she’d not left. So where in hell's gates was she?
“Baby?” He called through the small trailer, his panic starting to set in. Surely an intruder would have taken jewellery or money, not a whole woman for christ sakes. Maybe it was the past few years with the Lab being shut down for its dangerous radiation, or the talk of the Russian’s invading their little town, or even that Summer kids went missing from their friend’s pool party, he didn’t know. She was probably just waiting behind the door to jump out at him, or some dumb trick like that. She probably was just in his bedroom getting changed or something like that.
He had never moved through the little hallway so fast, hating how quiet it was.
His heart dropped when he saw his tiny room empty. His unmade bed that he had never seen looking smart sent him over the edge. Was there a struggle? Had his wardrobe door always open? Of course it was, he was a master of leaving things unfinished. He’d leave a sandwich without filling if he wasn’t always so damn hungry. No, he was being silly. There was nothing off about his room, nothing that screamed kidnap other than the god damn silence- why was it so damn quiet-
Then he heard a creak from the bathroom, and it was like his chest took a xanax. “You in there, honey?” He called, doubling back on himself to stand outside the white door, leaning in closer to hear inside. Hearing still no response, he practically melded with the wood, cheek squished against the cold wall, “Baby?”
Nothing, nothing but slight movement from the other side.
Huffing, he reached for the handle, “I’m gonna come in, alright? I’m just checking you’re okay, I’m not a peeping Tom or anything-“
Their bathroom was tiny, was only there for usage over luxury, but it was cosy. Yet, it couldn’t have prepared Eddie for the odd sight. His girlfriend, seemingly playing with something in her hands, fully clothed in a half filled bath, her denim jeans submerged, socks still on her feet, top floating riding up to her chest with the water pressure.
Staring at the back of her head for a moment, the confusion clear on his face, he looked around for anything that could help explain the odd situation, before his eyes fell back on her.
“You alright, honey?” He asked, approaching her carefully, though it took all of one step to make it to the small, PVC tub. Her head lolled to rest against the wall, and she seemed to have only just noticed him standing there.
“Edsy!” She said, smiling dopily up at him, “I was wondering where you got off to,”
Chuckling unsurely, he rested his hand on top of her head, giving her a gentle stroke. “You alright there, Little Mermaid?”
She snorted, reaching up to show him her hands, “I was just painting my nails, see?” Except all he saw was red marker pen drawn over her fingertips, the nails more akin to a toddler coming home from preschool. Thinking she was kidding, he smirked.
“Beautiful baby-” He stopped himself, the smile dropping in an instant when he finally met her eyes. She went to look away, her hand holding the red crayola pen tightly to continue her artwork, but his hand shot out to grab her chin. “Wait, wait, wait. Look at me,” He swore he had never sounded so serious.
She blinked up at him after a moment, again as if taking a second to compute his order, and looked up at him with droopy lids. Smiling at him sweetly, his gaze locked in on her red corneas, bloodshot and absolutely baked expression.
“Baby, are you high? Did you go under my bed?” He asked seriously, turning her head to the streetlight filtering through the window to get a better look.
“Why would I do that, Eds?” She asked, her words drawling, quieting as she ended her sentence as if she hadn’t the energy to finish. “I just had a couple of the brownies I made and started feeling warm and didn’t wanna be sweaty when you got home-”
Hand flying to stroke his temple, he gently caressed his girlfriend’s face, understanding her issue. He must have taken the wrong fucking box.
“Oh baby, oh my sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Taking her head into his chest, he pressed a kiss to her parting. “I’ve spiked my own girlfriend, new fucking low Munson,”
“-ddie,” Her voice was muffled from his Hellfire shirt, “We gonna watch Jared?”
“Jareth, honey,” He sighed, looking down at his stoned girlfriend with a concealed smile. He felt guiltier than a sinner in church but god was she cute high. “Come on, let’s get you dry,”
Hoisting her out of the tub with his hands under her arms, he got her to take off her jeans and top as he held up a large bath towel as a curtain between the two of them, wanting to give her some level of privacy. Hearing her clothes hit the floor with a heavy thud, he wrapped her body with the big towel, feeling her hands in his hair as he helped her into his room, her feet shuffling obediently.
“Now the movie?” She asked, plopping herself down on the bed, her eyes lazily scanning over his walls of posters as if she wasn’t here three times a week. Digging around in his bottom draw for spare clothes, he tried to hide his snort as she nudged at his butt with her foot. “Eddie, now the movie?”
“Nearly, baby,” He said, handing her a grey shirt and boxers big enough to fit comfily on her. “Gonna get you a bit comfier first, I’ll make you some mac and cheese,”
“But I’m not hungry,” She said, tugging the shirt over her head with a whine, before flopping back, feeling dizzy, “You do the legs for me,”
“Huh?” Eddie asked, blushing when she spread her legs and gestured to him with the boxers in her hand.
“You do the legs, my head feels funny,” She mumbled, spreading her arms out on the bed, fingers digging into the fluffy duvet. He knew it was probably soft under her dulled touch.
Eddie and her had been intimate many times before. Hell, they’d had sex before they’d even reached the one month mark, but having her ask him to take her underwear off, even so innocently, had his face red as a saint.
“Alright, honey. I’m gonna make you feel better, get you some water.” He said, hoping she couldn’t feel how his hands shook as he slipped her underwear down her legs, avoiding looking at her private parts for her dignity’s sake, “And trust me you’ll want something to eat in an hour or two,”
“If you say so, Eds,” She murmured as he gently held her ankle to put her foot through the leg hole, doing the same to the other and pulling them over the meat of her thighs that had his mouth watering. Giving her knee a little kiss (he tried to stop himself, he did) he asked her to sit up a little so he could bring the underwear all the way up.
He couldn’t help give the softness of her stomach a kiss too as he rose to see how she was doing, smiling softly when he saw her sleepy eyes regard him with a little smile of her own.
“Tired?” He near whispered, stroking her warm cheeky with his knuckle gently. She shook her head, blinking harshly when it made her vision blurry.
“No, just feel funny,” She said, grabbing onto his wrist to keep his cool hands on her face, “But good funny. I think. Just funny,”
“How many did you have, baby?” He asked, holding onto her hand as she sat up, watching her head tip slightly at the movement, as if he could tell how heavy every part of her felt. He knew the stages of edible high well; he and Keith had been hooked on them in tenth grade, but his sweet girlfriend knew nothing about any of his ‘Magic Brownies’ he sold, and he’d intended to keep it that way until now.
“Two, I think. I think I had a bite of a third and I started feeling weird so I stopped. I thought I just had a lot of chocolate.” She said, head pressed against his shoulder as he led her to the kitchen, “Eddie, my feet are cold,”
“Oh, shit, your socks,” He cursed, heading towards the sofa. “I’ll fix you up, don’t worry honey,” He said, gently helping her sit down, her body all but dead weight.
She murmured something as he pulled away, and he could only give her hand a peck before he was rushing around, grabbing her things that would make her feel better. Fluffy socks to calm her, make her comfy, water for when her mouth got dry, plain tortilla chips for when she started getting hungry while he’d cook her some real food. He all but scowled at the weed confectionary as he passed it, hating the fact he had unknowingly gotten his girlfriend into such a state.
He took barely five minutes before he gently rolled the socks onto her cold feet, throwing himself back down next to her, her head lolling to look up at him through heavy lids.
“We watch Jared now?” She asked, burrowing her face into his shirt.
“We watch Jared now.” He confirmed, chuckling when he felt her try to press herself even further into him, her nose jabbing into his ribs, “What are you doing?”
“Wanna crawl inside your skin, I’m not close enough out here,” She murmured, and Eddie smiled widely down at her, pressing play on the remote.
“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t mildly creepy, baby,” He said, his arm wrapping around her to keep her close, feeling her melt into his side, “I got you some water for when your mouth goes cottony,”
“Huh?” She said, though her eyes were zeroed in on the screen, his words a jumble in her ears. Nosing her hair line, he chuckled, kissing the tip of her ear and stroking her arm.
“Nothing, just watch your film, honey,” He said, his words a sugary glaze as he looked down at her zombie-like expression.
He had a lot of ass kissing to do in the morning.
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PERMANENT TAG LIST:
@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou
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queenimmadolla · 7 months
Text
𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝
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Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.
Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.
a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!
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Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.
  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.
  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 
  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.
  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—
  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 
  She’d been the result of a very similar event.
  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.
  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.
  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.
  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.
  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 
  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 
  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.
  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.
  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 
  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).
  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 
  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.
  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”
  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.
  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.
  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.
  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.
  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”
  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.
  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.
  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 
  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.
  Speaking of making Penny do things…
  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.
  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.
  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.
  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.
  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”
  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 
  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.
  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.
  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.
  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”
  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.
  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 
  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.
  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.
  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.
  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.
  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.
  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”
“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”
“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”
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divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡
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vanteguccir · 8 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗬
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Matt had a busy day and just wants to sleep in his lover arms.
WARNING: None.
REQUEST?: Yes, by @mymoots
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sighed in relief after closing the door to her house, locking it before placing her set of keys on the plate next to the entrance, next to Matt's car key. The girl took off her shoes, placing them up against the wall next to Chris' sneakers, making a mental note to clean them both the next day, or ask Chris to do so.
Y/N walked to the kitchen still with her purse on her shoulder, not wanting to put it on the counter, knowing that if she did she would forget to pick it later to put it in its proper place. The girl walked to one of the cabinets and took a glass of water, filling it and drinking all the contents there, before finally going to her room, which she shared with her boyfriend.
She was excited to see Matt, after a busy day at work she always loved sitting and listening intently as he recounted everything he did alone or with his brothers from the moment he woke up, her favorite stories being about what it was filming the video that would be posted the next day, or sometimes, on that same day.
And this was one of those days, when the boys left the recording of Friday's video to be recorded exactly on Friday, which made the day busier than normal and, consequently, more tiring.
Y/N quickly arrived at the room, knocking twice on the door before carefully opening it just enough to enter, before closing it again, finding the room completely dark, only lit by the low white lights that decorated the corner of the walls.
Matt was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, face down and his face turned to the other way.
The girl placed her purse on the chair closest to the door, removing her jacket and walking lightly towards her boyfriend, not sure if he was awake or asleep, and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb him.
"Matt? Baby?" Y/N whispered, bringing her face closer to the side of Matt's head, enjoying the fresh smell of shampoo.
"Hmm?"
"Are you awake?" She continued, now bringing her face closer to his, noticing his half-open eyes and sleepy face.
"I am, I haven't slept yet, I wanted to wait for you." He responded in a low whisper filled with exhaustion.
"Oh my love, there was no need. You recorded today's video during the day and you mentioned that you were going to the market, I imagine how tired you must be." Y/N spoke back, remembering the brief text that Matt sent her right after lunch, letting her know that he was going to stop by the market to buy some items that had run out of the fridge and cupboard, and that Y/N had written in the notes on his phone as it was the closest to her at the time.
"It's okay, I like seeing your face before I sleep." Matt whispered again, turning completely around to face Y/N, smiling slightly, his eyes almost closing completely.
"I love you." The girl spoke, approaching and kissing Matt's lips, without moving them, just a seal full of love and affection.
"Hm I love you more."
"Are you hungry? I can get a quick snack." Y/N asked, pulling away.
"A little, but I miss you more than I'm hungry, so lay here with me." He responded, pulling her arm lightly.
"Are you sure, honey?" He responded with just a nod. "Alright, let me just take a shower first."
"Nooo, don't leave me here all alone." He asked slyly, raising his arms. Y/N laughed at his whole drama as his blue eyes barely opened.
"It'll be quick, I promise."
"I'll go with you." He said, getting up and almot falling, what kept him from doing it was Y/N's hands on his shoulders.
The girl shook her head, knowing that asking him to lie down again would be a losing fight, so she just guided him to the bathroom, sitting him on top of the toilet.
The girl quickly took her clothes off and discarding them in the laundry basket, before entering the shower, casting a quick glance at Matt, who was half-bent over with his eyes half closed, the side of his body resting on the counter, making her smile, he was so kind to her.
It didn't take more than ten minutes and she was already drying herself, fulfilling her promise to be quick.
"Matt, go to bed, I'm almost done here." She asked, placing her hands on the boy's cheeks and lifting his face, bending down slightly and kissing his forehead, helping him to get up and gently pushing him to the room.
As she left the bathroom, her eyes traveled to the bed, smiling when she saw Matt in a half-sitting, half-lying position, with his eyes closed and his hand off the side of the bed, as if he was ready to catch her when she climbed into the comfort of his side.
Y/N went to their closet, taking fresh panties and Matt's shirt from her side of clothes, putting them both on before walking back to bed, lightly touching Matt's hand, which made him open his eyes quickly and look around, feeling a little lost.
"I'm awake, I promise." Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at how stubborn the brunette could be when he wanted to.
"Go a little to the side, my love." She asked, pushing him away lightly with her hands, making space for herself. "When we wake up tomorrow, I want to know everything about your day." Y/N added in a whisper, getting under the covers and placing Matt next to her, before pulling him into her arms, letting he lay his head on her chest, knowing that the sound of her heartbeat calmed him down.
"And I'll tell you everything." He spoke back slowly, placing his hand around her waist before giving up to sleep.
Y/N paused for a few seconds to just watch her boyfriend's expression soften, the tension in his body giving way to lightness, and she couldn't help but smile. There was no better place for her than in Matt's arms.
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months
Text
Ain't What It Is
Benny Cross x reader
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Summary: You think you know your boyfriend better than anyone, but when Benny thinks you've cheated, you see a whole new side of him.
Notes/Warnings: angsty-ish, but fluff too. Cursing. Throwing things. Angry Benny. Drinking. Typos.
Words: 1800
Benny Cross Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
He’s home. And as thrilled as you are to see his bike parked in front of the house before midnight on a weekday, you’re just as confused. Excluding weekends, when riding during the day frees up Benny’s nights to give to you, it’s a rarity to see him between the dark hours of eight and three; a pattern so consistent that it’s almost silly to expect anything different.
You knew that when you met Benny. You knew exactly what you were getting into, and because of that, you don’t fault him for staying out late. Riding is important to Benny, it makes up a chunk of his soul, and because the other guys in the club—with their families and day jobs and grown-up responsibilities—can typically only meet after their kids are passed out from a bedtime story and their wives have finished screaming at them for daring to leave the house at such an ungodly hour, you let him be free to enjoy time with the club when he can. 
If that time is given to you instead, you’re happy to have him for an entire night. However, now, as you enter through the front door, it’s not what you expected. The house is a pit of darkness; could be abandoned if you didn’t know the space you were stepping into. 
“Benny?” you call, flicking on the nearest light. You toss your handbag onto the entryway table and make your way to the kitchen to check the fridge. If he’s already asleep, you hope he at least got to the leftovers you put away for him that he usually scarfs down before he comes to bed. 
Turning the corner, you gasp, nearly jumping out of your skin at the shadowed figure sitting at the breakfast table. Your hand flies to your thumping heart. 
“Jesus, honey, you scared me,” you breathe out. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
A ray of moonlight streams through the window, surrounding your boyfriend and emphasizing his silhouette. He leans back in the chair and brings a bottle to his lips. 
“Have you been drinking? How much? God, please tell me you didn’t ride the bike drunk,” you say. He doesn’t answer. 
You sigh and move across the room with the intent to pull the silver chain of the small lamp on your counter—it’s a soft glow that won’t assault his eyes or yours after lingering in pitch black—but a strong hand wraps around your wrist as you pass by. 
“Benny, wha–”
Your eyes adjust. You can finally make out his features as he looks up at you, and they’re as dark as the space you occupy. “You messin' around on me?” he asks. 
If your eyebrows could lift above your forehead they would. If your jaw could unhinge itself, it’d be on the floor. “What?”
Benny shoots up, chair skidding back on the tile with an awful scraping sound. “Are you fuckin’ someone?” he spits out, leaning into you.
“What do you mean? I’m–”
He drops your wrist and groans, twisting on his heel and running his hand through already messy hair before turning back to you. And you don’t understand, because this, right here, is not your boyfriend. This is not how he acts. Rageful? Yes. One edge? Slightly inebriated? Yes and yes. But accusatory? Hot-tempered with you? Not for a single moment in the course of your time together. 
“It’s that prick your ma’s tryin’ to set you up with, isn’t it!” he shouts. “I don’t get why she thinks he’s better than me!”
And then suddenly you know. You catch the anger trying to disguise the twinge of pain in his voice. Pain that is stemming from one thing and one thing only—your Mama’s bullshit. 
She’s sly, that woman, and when you and Benny went to her house last week for dinner because you were exhausted of her complaints that she never sees you, who did you find in the seat assigned next to yours but her best friend’s son; a marking director in the city who makes an unnecessary amount of money and who expressed interest in you. 
She knew you were bringing Benny. She knew because she requested that you bring Benny. You had plans to spare him the agony of an evening with the woman who hates him for his upbringing and unpredictable lifestyle, but when she asked for him, a glimmer of hope sparked. Maybe she was finally letting it go, turning over a new leaf by allowing your relationship to be your and Benny’s business and no one else’s. But you were so wrong. 
An hour and a half of verbal jabs at your boyfriend were evened out by the plethora of compliments she had for her top pick as son-in-law. Benny was a trooper for your sake, but once the words ‘you two would make beautiful babies’ left her wrinkling lips, it was obvious the twig of his restraint was about to snap. And frankly, so was yours.
You took Benny by the hand, stormed out of your childhood home to ride back to your real home, and let Benny claim you however he wanted for the remainder of the night while you praised and soothed and reassured him of your feelings. And you thought those actions and words were enough for Benny to understand where your heart lies, but you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t seemed different over the last seven days.
You release a slow breath, “Honey…”
“So he wears a fuckin’ tie! So what!” His arm whips out and the bottle smashes against the wall, shards sprinkling the floor. 
“Benny!”
“What!”
“Calm down!”
In two large steps, his body is looming over yours, your upper arms suddenly wrapped in his large hands, squeezing but not enough to hurt. “I know he ain’t like me, but that don't make him better for ya,” he says. “‘Sides, he can’t love ya like I do, so what do ya want him for?”
And that is the last straw because now you’re insulted. You shimmy your body out of his grasp and he glances down at his empty hands with wide eyes, brows knitted, lips parted as if you had simply vanished.
“I am not messing around!” you snap. 
“Then where the fuck ya been tonight?” he demands. “Huh? Ya weren’t here. You’re always here. You’ve never not been here at this time’a night, so what am I supposed to be thinkin’?”
Your arms cross over your chest. Your jaw clenches. Your eyes burn. “Sit down.”
“Baby, you tell me right no–”
“Sit down, Benny!” 
His head jerks back at the harshness you rarely exhibit, and though he briefly hesitates, he eventually complies, because you won’t use that tone unless he crosses a line and he knows it, and when you do have to use that tone because he has crossed a line, he knows he loses the things he likes. Sex; your homemade blueberry pie; your willingness to ride with him and go to picnics and bonfires with the club—all of it, for however long you decide. Benny doesn’t like to beg, but in those times, you can take him to his knees. 
“Do you know how many nights I spend not knowing exactly where you are or when you’re going to be home?” you ask, bending at the waist until you’re at his eye level. “I knew going into this relationship that that's how things were going to be and I wanted you anyway. I understood how important it is for you to maintain your riding with the club, and I’ve always been happy that you have that. But you don’t know where I am once and suddenly I’m cheating on you?”
You straighten your spine and shake your head. “My cousin called. Needed me to watch her kid. I rang the bar but Joe said you guys were out riding.”
Benny’s huffs. His hand runs down his face, then in one final snippy effort, he says, “Well, you could’a left a note.”
Scoffing, you go over to the fridge and point to the piece of paper that in bright red lettering states: ‘Watching Teddy. I’ll be home late. Love you,” followed by your name and a little heart. 
“Try again,” you say. 
With that, he seems to sober up, both in his inebriation and attitude. As he should. It’s embarrassing to miss the note written in massive letters in an obnoxious color stuck to the fridge where you always leave notes for one another. In fact, you’re embarrassed for him, and you would tell him so were it not for the kicked-puppy look on his face that drains the irritation from yours. 
“You love me,” you say.
Benny sighs. “I know.”
“And you can't trust me?”
He leans forward in his seat, elbows perching on knees and hands scrubbing his face as if it might erase the shame of his accusations. “I do, baby, I just…
You return to his side, and planting your hands on his shoulders, you push him back in the chair to take a seat on his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck. 
“My mama doesn’t know what’s good for me if she thinks you're not it, but you can’t be treating me like this,” you tell him. “It's not fair. I don’t sit at home thinking you’re messing around on me.”
Benny’s eyes connect to yours as his hand curls at your waist. “I wouldn’t.”
“I know that,” you say. Your palm cups his scruffy cheek. “And you should know I wouldn’t either, so what happened? It’s not like you to be acting like this.”
He takes a second to collect his thoughts, then replies, “I was ridin’ and I missed you so I cut it short, but when I got home I couldn’t find you. And then I started thinkin’ and…” He shakes his head. “Baby, your ma's said shit before but she never shoved another guy in my face. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me, but– ”
“Benny, honey, there’s no way,” you swear to him, running your thumb over the sharp line of his cheekbone. “I mean, he wears a fucking tie.”
Benny’s lips part, eyes flicking back and forth between yours, before he softly chuckles in relief. His head falls forward, forehead resting on your collarbone. Your skin takes the heat of his heavy breaths, and then you feel the press of his lips. They make a gentle trail from your chest, up your neck, over your chin, before planting firmly on your mouth. 
“You're mine. You’re it,” you say when the kiss breaks. “No other man but you, Benny Cross.”
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thewritingrowlet · 3 months
Text
The Loving Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene
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tags: creampie, anal (I think it counts), throatfuck, cum-in-mouth, daddy kink
word count: ~3k
author's note: surprise, mothertruckers
You lean back in your big chair as exhaustion finally settles on your mind and body. You look through the tall glass behind you, “oh, it’s dark already—what time is it?”. You flip your phone on its back and tap the screen twice. “Oh, it’s almost 10”, you murmur, “Irene will kill me”. Irene? The smiling woman on your lock screen? Are you sure?
You’re not sure, but you’re not in the mood to fuck around and find out—not after spending the whole day away from her, making her go through her day by herself. “I’m coming, love; please wait a moment”, you say to your phone, the picture a representation of her being.
It’s nothing but a moment for you, as you find yourself stuck in the sea of cars. “Where are these fools going?”, you wonder. Well, “these fools” are trying to get to their safe havens, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to unwind after working their asses off to provide for them and theirs, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to go to the harbor where their hearts are anchored, just like you are. You chuckle as you think about it, “I guess we’re more alike than we know”.
-
A wave of joy washes over you when you see the black Genesis sedan parked in front of your house. You resist the urge to just stop the car right here as the acute avidness to see your cherished wife is mighty. You park your car in the driveway next to her car and jump out right away.
“I’m home”, you say softly as you turn the handle of your front door. That is correct: you are indeed home. This is the safe haven that you’ve worked hard for and saved up for so that you and your wife have somewhere to unwind after spending long days at work—this is the harbor where your heart is anchored.
You see a lady draped in white run towards you, and another wave of joy washes over you. “My love” is all the greetings you can come up with, as the sight of her takes your breaths away, no matter how frequent you see it. Irene wraps her arms around your frame, fighting your cold with her warmth. There are plenty of sounds you find to be enjoyable, but your lady’s sob is not one of them. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you, honey”, she asks tearily. You put your lips on her forehead to soothe her, “I’m so sorry, my love; I was neck deep in work that I lost track of time”.
You know that you can’t offer comfort when standing up, so you lift her up by her thighs and take her to sit on the sofa. You pet her softly in the back of the head as she sobs to her heart’s content. She finally falls silent after a few minutes and hums softly in rhythm, imitating a cat’s purr. “Feeling better, love?”, you say to her. “Y-yes”, Irene says, “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to be burdensome to you—I-I’m sure you’re tired, and-and I wasn’t being helpful”. You peck her cheeks thrice, just like how she likes it, “I’m sorry for coming home so late, love; I had so much work to do”. Irene returns the pecks to you, “thank you for working so hard all the time”.
You lay down on the sofa for a cuddle, and you hear Irene’s stomach rumble faintly. “You haven’t had dinner, love?”, you ask her. “We-we were supposed to eat out, r-remember?”, she says. You punch yourself internally as the memory returns to you, “I’m so sorry, love”. Irene used to voice her disappointment whenever you forgot about something, but she ditched that habit when you two got married. “We have sliced beef in the fridge, don’t we? I’ll make us something if you’ll let me go”, you say to her. Irene reluctantly unwraps her limbs from your body, seemingly sad about not touching you.
You open the fridge and grab half an onion and some sliced beef and put them on the counter next to the stove. You throw some minced garlic into a preheated nonstick pan that already has a bit of oil in it and wait until the fragrance fills the kitchen. Since Irene doesn’t really like onion, you cut the onion in half again, only using a quarter of it. You throw the onion—chopped largely so that Irene can avoid it easily—into the pan and cook it down until it’s soft. You look over your shoulder and see that Irene is still on the sofa, presumably asleep. “I hope this meal can convey how much I love you, my dear Irene”, you say to yourself as you dump sliced beef and sauces into the pan.
You put the food on a large plate and reheat some leftover rice in the microwave. You walk to the sofa and take a knee in front of the sleeping beauty. “Irene, my love”, you poke her forearm gently, “let’s eat, baby”. Irene wakes up slowly from her peace, “carry me, love”. You carry Irene on your back and take her to the dining table, and the overwhelming smell wakes her up entirely. “Wow, that looks so good, love!”, she gasps in excitement, “I want to eat! I want to eat!”. You silence the beeping microwave and take the rice out of it. You take a seat in front of your wife as she starts eating excitedly. “Oh my fucking God, that’s so fucking good”, she says. “Love, what did I tell you? Save the profanity for when we’re in bed”, you scold her. “Well, bed is where we will be after this”, she murmurs, not loud enough for you to hear.
You wash the dirty plates and pan after finishing the very late dinner with Irene. Irene stays silent as you do, which is curious, because she usually praises your cooking endlessly while she waits for you. “Did you like it, love?”, you ask her as you’re walking towards her. In your head, you expect Irene to say that she did like it—love it, even—but she says something else. “Daddy”, Irene bites her lip sexily, “I want my dessert”. You know what she means by that, and so does your cock. “You better earn it, then”, you say as you carry her to the bedroom.
Irene shakes herself off your arms and starts kissing you in arousal. She even goes as far as invading the space in your mouth with her tongue. The fact that she’s the one doing all this and is the first to break the kiss is funny—Irene can’t even keep up with herself. “Dad-daddy—fuck”, Irene struggles to breathe, “plea-please, I-I need you—I need my husband’s big cock”. You sit on the edge of the bed and rouse her, “I’ve always told you to work for it if you want something, so come and work for it”.
Irene kneels in front of you and frees your cock from your trousers and boxers. “I can’t live without—”, you cut her off by forcing your cock into Irene’s mouth. These fools only call Irene a cold person because of her front; everything about Irene is anything but cold, take her mouth for example. “Stop talking, start doing”, you command. Irene’s gags sound incredibly hot, and you’re desperate to hear it right now. There’s only one way to achieve that, and that is by fucking her mouth hard. You hold her head with both hands and bounce her on your cock. You feel the tip of your cock reach the back of her mouth, and Irene starts making the gagging sound that you love. “That’s my good wife”, you groan, “fuck, that’s so fucking good”.
You mercilessly fuck Irene’s mouth, sometimes stopping to make sure you don’t hurt her too much—with what you have in mind, however, her voice is guaranteed to disappear after the night ends. “Fuck, I’m getting close”, you announce. Irene looks at you and winks, and you can hear her telling you to cum in her mouth. Once you feel that your cum has accumulated on the tip of your cock, you plug your cock deep in Irene’s mouth and blow your load with a deep groan. You let her head go and Irene pulls away from your cock. She pokes your knee to get your attention. “Yeah, baby?”, you ask, and Irene swallows your cum in one gulp in front of your eyes.
“I—hah, holy fuck—I hope we’re not done”, she says. You shake your head, “we’re far from done, honey—strip, please”. As much as you like seeing Irene in a shirt, it’s not comparable to Irene in nothing. Irene starts her ritual by tying her hair in a bun and biting her lip—she’s making it really hard for you to resist the urge to just rip her clothes off. She reaches for the buttons on her shirt and undoes them one by one, letting the shirt drop to the floor after. “If you’re trying to tease me right now, sweetie, it’s working”, you admit your defeat, “I want to fuck you so bad right now”. She walks towards you after taking off her trousers, “and I want to get fucked by you so bad right now, daddy”.
You tell her to sit on the bed while you leave to get something to cover her eyes with. “I hope you’re down for something naughty, baby”, you say as you show her a silk blindfold. “I was expecting you to have me do the work because you were tired”, she says as she puts on the blindfold herself, “let’s get naughty, daddy”. You help her move to the center of the bed, and since Irene can’t see through the black silk, she doesn’t know that you’re grabbing more silk cloths to tie her limbs with.
“Daddy, where are you?”, Irene sniffs around the bedroom, trying to pick up your scent. You softly rub her cheeks with your thumb, “I’m here, love”. She blindly grabs your hand and guides it to her pussy, “I’m so wet for you, daddy”. You play with the nub of Irene’s pussy with your middle finger, “how bad do you want daddy, hm?”. Irene squirms around as your finger keeps stimulating her, “ahng, ngh, fuck, daddy—I-I need you so fucking bad. Please, daddy, I’m begging you”. You stop fiddling with her clit, “do you trust me, love?”. Irene nods to your question, “I-I’m sure daddy will take care of me”. You peck her lips before tying her hands together. “Next time I tell you to strip, I want you to take everything off—but it’s okay, I forgive you this time”, you say as you unlatch her bra and pull her panties down. Irene whimpers softly as her arousal peaks, “daddy, daddy—ngh, fuck—punish me, daddy; I’ve been naughty”.
You flip Irene onto her stomach and lift her waist up. “Ask nicely, love”, you say to her, your cock hard as rock. “Please-please-please—OH, FUCK”, Irene screams when you put the tip of your cock in her ass, “daddy, it hurts—it hurts so much”. The only thing coating your cock is her spit from the blowjob earlier, “you asked me to punish you, so this is your punishment”. You know that Irene will say the safe word if she wants to stop, so for now, you keep moving forward until your cock is fully lodged in her rear. As you keep fucking her ass, however, Irene lets out screams of pain that sound genuine. You’ve done anal with Irene before, but considering that she wasn’t prepared for this today, you feel bad for doing this, so you retreat from her ass.
You lay Irene on her back and take off her blindfold. “I’m so sorry, baby”, you apologize to your sobbing wife, “that must’ve hurt so bad, right?”. Irene shakes her head, “y-your pleasure comes first, daddy; I-I’ll do whatever you want me to”. You free her wrists so that you can cuddle her properly. “There’s no need for that, love. I’m not more important than you”, you spray kisses on her face, “I’m sorry for acting without consent”. Irene takes off her bra that has been hanging loosely on her arms and throws it away, “c-can we have vanilla now, daddy? I-I can do the work”.
You grant her request and lie down flat on the bed, giving Irene the chance to do whatever she wants. Irene lines up her pussy with your cock and goes down on it until she reaches the base, letting out a long moan as she goes. “I’m so glad I’m married to you”, she says, “ah, ngh—your cock makes me so fucking happy, daddy”. You palm her soft tits that are bouncing in front of your eyes, “I’m glad I’m married to you as well, love—God, fuck, you’re so tight”. Irene plants her hands on your chest and starts fucking herself with your cock, “ah, ah, ah—I-I will always be tight for you, daddy”. If you were to rank the top 3 sounds Irene makes, the order would be her moans, her gags, and then finally her laughs—her moans are simply angelic and deserve the top spot.
Irene keeps bouncing herself rapidly on your cock as she’s more comfortable taking you in the pussy than in the ass. “Daddy, would you let me cum? Please let me cum, daddy”, she begs. You tell her to cum whenever she wants, “you’ve earned it, baby; you’ve been so good”. Irene screams and trembles as she cums, and you feel her pussy squeezing your cock. “Daddy, daddy”, she falls limp on your body, “thank you—ah, fuck—thank you so much”.
You let Irene catch her breath as you whisper praises and affirmations into her ears. “Can I mark you, daddy? I want to show people that you’re mine”, she says. You chuckle, “the ring on my finger already does that, love—but sure, mark me if you want to”. Irene latches her mouth on the side of your neck, kissing and nibbling it to plant her hickeys on your skin. You’re usually the one doing the marking, so you never knew that getting kisses and nibbles in the neck feels this good. “Love, I like having your lips on my neck”, you say. Irene doesn’t say anything and keeps focusing on applying her love mark on you. “That should be enough”, Irene straightens her back, “your turn to mark me now”. She slaps your hands away when you reach your arms out towards her. “No, no, mark me from the inside”, she points at her pussy, “you haven’t cum yet, so give me your cum, please”.
You roll over and get on top of Irene, “you want my cum in your pussy, love?”. “Breed me, daddy”, she rubs your cheeks softly, “I’m so fucking fertile today”. You look at Irene in the eyes, “are you sure? You have a career to chase, love”. Irene rolls her eyes in annoyance, “fine, you’re right; I’ll take the morning after pill then”.
Seeing that you’ve come to an agreement, you start thrusting into her warm core. You’re instantly reminded of how tight she is. “Fuck, love, I don’t think I can last long”, you say, hoping that it won’t disappoint her. “Th-that’s okay, daddy; I won’t last long either”, Irene replies. You guide Irene’s hand towards her pussy, indirectly telling her to touch herself as you’re fucking her.
The two of you are busy with your own tasks: Irene is touching herself and you’re fucking her balls deep. “Ah, ah, I-I think you hit my cervix”, she says between moans, “are you sure you don’t want to breed me, daddy?”. She places your hand on her stomach, “just imagine, daddy; my tummy would start getting bigger and bigger, and I’d be so fucking horny all the time that I’d cum just by humping your thighs”. “What—fuck—what about your career, love?”, you ask, still doubtful about this whole pregnancy thing. Irene moans loudly as she feels the increased pace, “I-I’ll gladly throw it away as long as I get to please you every day”.
You’re still not entirely sold on the idea, but her words make you so damn aroused. You hug her tightly and continue fucking her—you can hear your orgasm knocking at the door. “Babe, I’m cumming”, you announce to her, and Irene tells you that she is about to cum as well. You grit your teeth and release your load deep into her pussy, possibly sending it straight to her cervix. At the same time, Irene shakes as she rides the high of orgasm. You reject her request to stay inside and walk towards the drawer where Irene keeps pills and condoms. You take one pill and a bottle of water and hand them to her. You tell her to take it in front of your eyes to make sure she doesn’t throw it away or something.
“Look, love”, you softly say to her, “I do want to have a child with you, but we haven’t talked about this thoroughly before; me getting you pregnant right now is not wise—I hope you understand, love”. Irene nods, “y-yes, honey. I’ll be patient and make sure that I’m ready for motherhood before you breed me”. You smile gently, “one day, when we’re both ready, we’ll have sex all day long to make sure you get pregnant, okay?”. “God, you’re making me so wet”, Irene says, “I swear I’ll drain every drop of cum out of your cock, honey”.
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writtenbymoonflower · 8 months
Text
Dinner
You have a panic attack and your boys comfort you. poly!maruaders x fem!reader
cw: panic attack, negative self talk, swearing, mention of raw chicken (ew ik)
1.7k words (it's long i'm sorry)
You never thought you would cry over chicken, but here you were. You knew that you had been having a lot of busy days as of late, there were a million things swimming about in your head. But you were managing it well, or at least you thought you were. But then it all came down.
You had bought a pack of chicken earlier in the week to cook for dinner one night. It had been on clearance so you knew it was  on its way out, but you thought you would’ve had more time. You opened your fridge so you could begin cooking before your boyfriends were going to get too hungry, when you realized that the meat was out of date by a whole three days. It was something so small, yet, it sent a billion anxious thoughts jumping around your head like they were on pogo sticks, and most of them were not very nice. 
How could you be so stupid? You should’ve checked the date. If you hadn't been so lazy earlier this week you wouldn’t be wasting this food. Now there was nothing to cook and your boyfriends would go hungry. They would likely end up resenting you for being a shit girlfriend and being so-
“Dolly? What are you doing over there?” Usually Sirius’ voice was a comfort to you, but right now it just added to your misery. It reminded you of all your failures and why you would never be good enough for anyone. 
Tears started filling your eyes. You tried to still your shaking hands and even your breathing, but it was all too much. They were going to realize your mistake and were going to be angry. His footsteps were painful and your other boyfriends’ laughter in the other room made you wince. When Sirius finally was facing you, your attempt at a facade fell apart. He knew you too well and apparently your body just decided to give over to panic because you suddenly couldn’t catch your breath. You tried to mutter out an apology but your voice was caught in your throat and your pulse was hammering. 
“ Hey.” Sirius’ dark brows scrunched in concern, his gray eyes searching your face and scanning your body for any injury. “What’s wrong?” His voice was raised in panic as you stood and shook. 
Apparently Sirius’ voice triggered your other two boyfriends to barrel into the room, but you refused to look at any of them, opting to hold the chicken package behind your back and stare at the ground. James thought you looked like a small child standing in front of a broken glass, ready to be reprimanded and punished. It made his heart ache. 
“Baby,” Sirius continued to beg for a response. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.” Remus placed a soothing hand on his partner’s back while James scooted past the both of them to grab your shoulders and stoop to see your face. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” James spoke softly. He was just as concerned as the other two, but James was better at keeping his head, even though inside he wanted to sob seeing you like this. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him. 
“There you go.” Remus whispered encouragement from behind James. Your chest was still heaving and you were still crying, but now they could read your face better. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” You choked out, hoping that if you spoke about your failure early enough they might forgive your mistake.
“Hey, not right now. Just focus on me, honey. I think you’re having a panic attack, I need you to try and steady your breathing.” James motioned the other two over, Remus getting behind you and pulling you both to the ground so he could rock you in his lap. Sirius and James sat and each took one of your hands, James putting the one he was holding on his chest, while Sirius put the other on yours. (After throwing the chicken on the counter, opting to ask questions after you could speak again.) You stifled another sob from wracking your body. 
“We’ve got you, sweet girl. Just copy Prongs’ breaths, yeah?” Sirius used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet the eyes of the two boys in front of you. You could feel James’ chest rising and falling as he took deep, exaggerated breaths. Your first few were shaky and clumsy, but soon you were finally able to get a comfortable amount of air in your lungs and your tears slowed to a stop. You still felt guilty, but at least now your head wasn’t so loud. You pulled your hands back into your lap.
“There you go,” Remus soothed from behind you. “Atta girl.” He pressed gentle kisses all over the side of your neck. You could see the two boys in front of you visibly relax at your now calmer state. “Good girl, you did so well. I know that was scary.” Remus turned so you were sitting sideways in his lap and you could see all three of the boys sitting around you. 
“ Thank you for helping.” You said sheepishly, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry I did that, I know it was a lot.” 
“None of that.” Sirius said firmly. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do it to be bad, you have nothing to be sorry for.” 
Wrong. You thought to yourself, remembering the spoiled food now sitting on the counter. 
“Can you tell us what happened, lovely?” James ducked his gaze to meet yours, his brown eyes were sad and confused and swimming with all too much love. 
You really didn’t want to admit your mistake, but they deserved an explanation for your erratic behavior. 
“It’s really nothing that bad.” You tried to console, as if you weren’t the one shaking on the floor not two minutes ago. “I was just-” You swallowed hard again. “I was being stupid.” You went back to picking at your nails. Your self-deprecating comment made Remus raise an eyebrow and Sirius lightly pinch your thigh. 
“You weren’t. You’re never stupid, be nice.” Remus (lovingly) scolded. 
“I was just, I bought this chicken.” You struggled to keep your breathing even. “I bought this chicken earlier this week and I was going to cook it, but I was too lazy these last few days and I fucked up and I-” You bit hard on your lip to keep from crying again. James desperately wanted to reprimand you for your self-cruelty, but he settled for grabbing Sirius’ hand and squeezing, not wanting to cut you off. 
“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.” James spoke even softer. 
“I let the chicken go bad. I wanted to cook tonight but when I went to grab the chicken it was bad and I just- I just felt bad because I can’t do anything right. I had all week to make it and now I can’t cook for you all and I just- I just feel bad.” You took another deep breath, still not wanting to meet their eyes.
“Oh, my baby.” Sirius lunged forward, wrapping you in his arms before you could even process what was happening. Remus huffed grumpily over you being stolen from his lap, but let it go. “That’s what you were all worked up about? That’s why you were all scared?” You nodded, your face still stuck in the crook of his neck. 
“It’s okay,” James soothed, now smoothing a gentle path up and down your back. “That happens to everyone, sweetheart. It’s not something you need to be mad at yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t lazy. You’ve been busy and tired. It just happens.” James thought he could cry, his girl was so hard on herself that she was all panicked over something like this. 
“Exactly.” Remus said. “It’s nothing we can’t fix, dove. We can go to the store tomorrow and you can make it then.” You started to protest, wanting to go tonight but you were quickly cut off. “Tomorrow.” Remus was firm, but no less kind. “You aren’t doing any work tonight. You need to rest. We’ll figure something out for dinner, it’s no trouble.” 
You were going to argue but you figured it was a losing battle. 
“Thought you would be mad at me.You should be mad at me. I fucked u-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before James squawked, Sirius sputtered, and Remus inhaled sharply. Sirius forced your head out of his neck to look at you. 
“What?!” He looked genuinely offended.
“Lovely,” James was the one who formed a full sentence. “We would never be mad at you for something like this. Never.” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “Look at us, sweet girl. No ones mad at you. We care about you, not a pack of chicken. It’s not worth you being this mean to yourself, nothing is.” He pouted during the last sentence. 
“Also,” Sirius said, still being very gentle. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t just about chicken, dollface. You’ve been really stressed lately.” 
“And you’ve been really hard on yourself. You always have been, but it’s gotten worse.” Remus’ voice sounding sad. You knew he was right though. 
“I know.” You sighed, dejectedly. “I’ll try to be better.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile. 
“That’s what we mean!” James whined. “You don’t need to ‘be better.’ You just need to be gentle with yourself.” 
“It’s just hard.” You admitted. 
“I know it is, baby.” Sirius empathized. Then his face morphed into his usual grin. “How about, we all lead by example. I know I can be very nice to you.” He took your cheeks in both his hands and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled wetly, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “There, like that. Nice.”
“I don’t know how she is gonna do that, Pads. It’s hard to kiss your own face.” Remus attempted (and failed) to keep the amused tilt out of his voice. 
“Oh no!” James dramatically gasped. “I guess we’ll just have to.” He beamed, taking your jaw in his hand to smear even more kisses on your cheeks.
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Note
I’m obsessed with how you write for Logan, like it’s becoming an addiction at this point. Maybe after a hard week for reader and for Logan, they finally get some time together. So Logan puts on some slow music from the 40s/50s and pulls reader into the kitchen of the apartment to slow dance together. So they just hold each other, maybe discuss some things, or get kind of vulnerable with each other. And it’s just cute and sweet. And then from the living room Wade speaks up, breaking their perfect moment together because let’s be honest, it’s Wade. I love your writing sooooooo much. Thank you🤍
Dancing in the Kitchen
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The apartment was quiet, a rarity these days. The week had been long—brutal even. Missions, confrontations, sleepless nights—both you and Logan had been worn thin by the constant demands of a world that never seemed to give either of you a break.
But tonight, the world was far away. The curtains were drawn, the lights dimmed low. The only sound was the steady hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. You leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out a deep breath. The weight of the past days still clung to you like a heavy coat, but at least here, in this small space with Logan, you felt some semblance of peace.
Logan appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, and you couldn’t help but smile. His usual scowl was softened, the lines of his face more relaxed than you’d seen in days. He held up an old vinyl record, its cover worn but still intact, and nodded toward the living room.
“Thought we could use a little music,” he said, his gruff voice tinged with a warmth that made your heart swell.
You nodded, watching as he moved to the old record player he’d insisted on keeping despite its age. The needle dropped, and soon the soft crackle of the record filled the air, followed by the smooth, crooning voice of a singer from long ago. The melody was slow, languid, like honey dripping from a spoon, sweet and comforting.
Logan turned back to you, holding out his hand. “C’mon, darlin’. Let’s dance.”
You hesitated for only a moment before slipping your hand into his. His grip was firm, but gentle as he pulled you into the center of the kitchen. There wasn’t much room, but it didn’t matter. In fact, it felt more intimate this way, with the small space making you press closer to him.
Logan’s other hand settled on your waist, and you looped your arm around his neck, your fingers brushing against the short hairs at the nape. For a few seconds, neither of you moved, just swayed slightly to the rhythm of the music, finding a comfortable sync.
“I miss this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, me too.”
The two of you began to move slowly, your bodies swaying in time with the music. There was something almost magical about it, the way the world seemed to fade away until it was just the two of you in this moment. The tension that had been coiled tight in your chest started to loosen, and you found yourself resting your head against Logan’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“You’ve been holdin’ up okay?” Logan asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and into your ear.
You sighed, a little shakier than you intended. “It’s been hard. I feel like I’m running on fumes.”
He tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I know the feelin’. But you’re doin’ better than you think. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
You lifted your head to meet his eyes, finding them softer than usual. “You really think so?”
“Hell yeah,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve been through worse, and you’ve come out on top every time. This week’s just another bump in the road.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the music or the closeness. Logan didn’t dole out compliments often, but when he did, you knew he meant every word. It was one of the things you loved most about him—his unwavering honesty.
“Thanks, Logan,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anytime, darlin’.”
For a while, you both just danced, the music wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You could feel Logan’s breath on your hair, his strong, calloused hand still holding yours firmly, like he was afraid to let go. And for the first time in days, you felt safe, like everything might just be okay.
But then, as if the universe couldn’t resist ruining the moment, you heard a loud, exaggerated sniffle from the living room.
“Oh my God, you guys are so cute, it’s making me nauseous!” Wade’s voice broke through the serene atmosphere, full of dramatic flair. “Seriously, I’m over here trying to watch a movie, and it’s like a Hallmark commercial in there!”
Logan stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It was impossible to be mad at Wade when he was just being his usual self. You turned your head to see him sprawled out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his stomach, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal his mouth.
“Wade,” Logan growled, though there was more exasperation than anger in his tone.
“What? Don’t look at me like that, Wolvie! I’m just appreciating the domestic bliss you two have got going on here. It’s inspiring. I might even write a poem about it later. ‘Ode to the Mutants Who Dance in the Kitchen’—has a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?”
You rolled your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Wade, do you ever stop talking?”
“Not unless I’m unconscious, which, thanks to this wonderful healing factor of mine, is pretty rare,” Wade shot back, grinning cheekily.
Logan sighed, shaking his head, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible, Wilson.”
“And you love me for it,” Wade replied, throwing a popcorn kernel into the air and catching it in his mouth.
You turned back to Logan, the moment interrupted but not entirely lost. You gave him a small smile, your hand squeezing his gently. “We can always try again later.”
Logan nodded, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Damn right we will. And this time, I’m lockin’ the door.”
Wade’s voice piped up again from the living room. “Locking the door won’t keep me out, Honey Badger! I’m like Santa Claus, I’ll find a way in!”
You and Logan both laughed, the tension of the week finally melting away completely. Maybe the moment wasn’t perfect, but it was yours—and that made it better than anything else.
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haruchi-slit · 6 months
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"CAUGHT!"
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・❥・synopsis: Jjk men catching you masturbating...
warnings: Toji's part: mutual masturbation and use of adult toy! | Gojo's part: rough fingering and biting! | Suguru's part: dirty talk, and cunnilingus! | Sukuna's part: teasing lots of teasing, pet names: whore/slut/little princess, and denying orgasm! | Choso's part: masterbates while watching you behind the door|Shui's part: fingering, and dirty talks!
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Toji:
after running errands from the store, your boyfriend decides to come home earlier than you expected, but to his surprise, he comes home with no people inside the house, it was dead silent, but until- he heard soft whimpers his ears perked up, dropping the plastic bags on the counter to investigate... "pumpkin?" he calls in a low groan, slowly approching your shared bedroom.
"mffngh..~" a muffled moan! his ears perked up once again, he walks slowly, moving his right hand to the bedroom's door knob- and what does he see? his beautiful girlfriend having fun without him...he opens the door, enough for him to get in, you jolt by his sudden appearance, "Toji!" you gasped covering yourself and the vibrator on your hand "having fun, without me?" you shook your head side-to-side, you can feel your cheecks heating up from the embarrassment.
Toji clicked his tongue approaching you, "what's there to hide anyway? I've seen you longgg before" he chuckles, "should've told me though?" he adds. You couldn't move nor talk, "Oh well" he stood up about to leave,
"W-Wait!" you said, making Toji raise a brow,
"yeah?" he asks- "help...help me" you whined looking him with your pretty doe eyes.
"That's what I like" he says with a smug smirk.
and now look at you,he's got you in a meannn mating press, knees reaching your shoulders as he tops the tip of his cock on top of your clit- as he held the vibrator under the covers, placing it on top of his tip, the vibrator, vibrates in a uncontrollable speed, that it seeps vibration on your pretty abused clit, "f-fuck!" he groans pressing the vibrator harder, "T-Toji! slow it down!" you yelp...only for him to chuckle "can't do princess m' a-almost close f-fuck-"
He's loving how your toy make him throbbb so muchh.
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Satoru:
Gojo is tired talking with the higher ups and also eliminating curses it's been weeks since he saw his wife- so before going home he decides to stop by at his favorite shop filled with sweet delicacies to share with his wifey.
"Yeah, and one of those" he says pointing at the matcha flavored cake. he comes home carrying shit ton of sweets dangling on his arms he unlock the front door and hurried to put the sweets in the fridge so it stays fresh before he calls his wife to munch on them later- he strides across the house until he's in the living room he saw his wife's head peeking from the couch so he sneaks quitely to surprise her but to Satoru's surprise he finds you on the couch, legs spread wide open and right hand going up and down your clit, occasionally teasing yourself. Satoru was so taken aback that he couldn't speak!
"damn it, why can't i do it like satoru?" you sigh, you stood up accepting your defeat you turn around and saw Gojo motherfucking Satoru you went pale, pale as a paper.
"Oh hi...welcome home?" you whispered- tugging your sweater to cover you panties.
"Thank you honey...but- I'm too shock to speak and also why didn't you tell meee?" he says with flustered face "i could've helped you earlier if you sent me a message or somethin'" he pouts, your embarrassment rose and made your cheeks bright pink- "You're busy s-so i didn't sent a text or called i was-" you stuttered, Satoru approaches you slowly, cupping your face, you tried to avoid eye contacts but he held your face, to face him directly, "whenever you're needy just say so, y'know you're my top priority" and with that, your lips collides. Satoru slowly laid you down on the couch, prying your legs open then finally removing your panties once again. Satoru spits on your cunt watching it roll down on your entrance, he latches his lips on your cunt lapping it like a wild animal combining his slender fingers going in and out in your walls--
he really missed you- so fucking much.
"Sat- fuck!" you yelp as the speed intensifies, he kisses your clit- rubbing it he lets out a gasp. your body's already so sensitive. he goes up to kissed your lips that soon rolls down to your collarbone- he bites it like it was his favorite sweet before sucking it and leaving a red mark he repeats it over and over until you're covered with his marks, some of it bleeding he goes back to your pulsating cunt,
rubbing it in a circular motion before letting his pants pool down to the floor with his boxers. he throws your leg on top of his shoulder then letting his cock slide in your warm walls, "feelin' good now- shit, baby?" he asked " m'yes yes sat! fill me s'good" you slurred eyes literally seeing other dimensions as he bucks his hips at a intense speed
Damn he missed you sooo much.
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Suguru:
"Babes I'm home, just finished dropping off the girls to school ready to shop and meet with satoru and the others?" Suguru calls out but no one answered. he looked thru the kitchen, bathroom, closet, garden and even the dining room but you were no where to be found, but there is one room he haven't checked, the master bedroom, and he was right! you were there- but what are you doing?
masturbating...
"Y/n?.." he whispered enough for you to hear.
"Suguru!" you respond, covering yourselft with the nearest pillow beside you, "I-I'm soo sorry- I'm just so stressed with work, the-the higher up were asking me to do tons of-" you stutter, you're so nervous, you're afraid that suguru will see you differently, Suguru was stunned- but he isn't disgusted nor angry- instead he feels sad- sad that he didn't gave his sweet fiance what she needs- sad that he didn't get to fuck the stress out off her body.
"Babes- chillax... it's not like the first time i seen you" he coughs "masturbating.."
"How- What? you've seen me?" you asked "yes- it's not like i don't do it too...i understand that work at jujutsu tech is overwhelming sooo it's understandable baby, c'mon let's fuck that stress out your body, hmm?" he smiles with a assuring aura, gentlely crawling on top of the bed. but oh boy! that assuring aura soon fades away, and lust controls, his eyes darkned obviously blinded by lust-
"you like it when I'm like this yeah?" Suguru chuckles, removing the blanket covering your soaking cunt, he lays with his chest and pulled your thighs closer to his mouth, he places his hands to your stomach carefully holding you in place. he's eager to fuck that stress out off you, as soon as he got the chance to eat your pussy, he latches his mouth- pressing his lips on your cunt, tongue targeting your bundle of nerves everytime he licked your cunt dry.
what a nasty boy he is.
you squirmed a lot so he tighten his hands around your stomach "keep it steady babes, can't you see I'm having my meal?" he say, raven dark hair tickling your thighs as he nuzzled his nose against your clit.
for fuck's sake it was fucking heaven!
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Sukuna:
It was early and the morning, and you're needy- you cunt was dripping wet as it pulstate around nothing, you woke up with heavy breaths, you're eager to find your husband- whose no where to be found in the room, so what did you do?
you took care of it yourself.
"fuck-" you cursed under your breath massaging your puffed clit only for the door to swing open without any warning!
oh oh...
you're met with sukuna's four eyes slowly scanning you. "what were you doing?" he asked raising a brow as he clasped his set of arms, "...not-nothing!" you squirmed around the bed, "lies... you're a liar i can see it behind your doe eyes.." he responds, yet another protest escaped from your lips,
"come on little princess you, can not decieve me with your puppy, doe eyes- were you pleasing yourself while i was doing my tasks?" he ask once again "and you better not be lying.." he adds, you rose up from the mattress and shamefully nod-
"use your words" Sukuna demands as he lifts your chin to meet with your lustful eyes-
"yes- yes i was masturbating...I was just needy and i couldn't find-" he shushed you up
"your confession, was all i need" he kisses your forehead and then he lifts your petite body on to the mattress, you're so small compared to him. he slowly unties your kimono, just enough to tip you over the edge, he cups your face "such a needy little whore are you not?" he'd tease occasionally rubbing your clit painfully slow that it burns-
"Kuna-" your breath hitched grabbing his hand to press it hard on your clit. "ah ah, no.." he scolds as he uses his other set of arms to pin your arms above your head. "sukuna-ah!" a yelp rolled out off your tongue- as he keeps teasing your clit, middle and pointer finger going in and out your cunt- it was nasty, as well as the squelching sounds of your pussy sucking him in, he keeps on rubbing tight circles in your cunt- then kissing your lips so rough that it feels good- you could feel your climax brewing in the bottom of your abdomen- "look at how you pussy sucks my fingers- fuck it's so drenched with your juices" he mused- and he was amazed you're close and he knows it so he intensifies the speed of his fingers matching it with kisses around your body- "Ffffuck-!" you screamed almost cumming but Sukuna won't let that happen.
"Ryomennnn" you whimpered as he distanced his fingers from your swollen clit.
"That's your punishment, spoiled slut" he says as he lick off your juices out his hand then pressing a kiss on your forehead.
what a meanie.
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Choso:
"Is there someone else or notttt- cause i wanna keep you closee~" Choso hums as the elevator dings- the elevator then opens to your floor leading to your apartment, "I don't wanna lose my spot, cause i need to know if you're hurting him- or you're hurting me~" he continues to hum as he unlocks the door he lets his tote bag dangle on his biceps- as soon as he enters he drops off his things on the coffee table near the door before shutting the door he then removes his headphones hanging on his neck, before calling you out "Honnn m'homee" Choso walks to the bedroom guessing that you didn't hear him calling. upon arriving he sees the door slightly open, he had the urge to not swing it completely to peak on what you were doing and to his shock you were masturbating!
his eyes widens as he covers his face, his embarrassment rose as he peaks eagerly, you were bucking your hips against your fingers, slowly letting your cunt suck you fingers in.
he instantly felt his pants tighten as his cock grew further, he pushed the door slightly enough for him to see your leaking pussy, palming his cock in the process, he can hear your moans, your whimpers and that squelch your pussy makes everytime you put your fingers in. "choso-" you moan- imagining it was him that's touching your hungry cunt, and that tips Choso to the edge, unzipping his pants to give friction on his throbbing dick-
his breath hitched, he really wants to fuck the shit out off you with the nasty thing you're doing right now but there's something stopping him. he stayed quite watching you roll over and hump on the pillow rubbing your clit lustfully as you slurred his name out your tongue.
what a pervert.
He rubs his pre-cum all over his tip, rubbing his cock up and down as you rub your cunt he swear he almost drooled at the sight, he rubs his cock faster resulting his climax and damn in chance you also came. (soulmates fr!) his cum was all over his clothes. he peaks once again you were breathing heavily- after you came down from your high you stood up and put your underwear and leggings- when he saw you standing up he hurries to zip his pants in and ran in the living room.
you walked in the living room seeing your boyfriend whose sweaty and flustered
"Chooo you're homee- since when?"
you asked nervously. "just-just got home.." he says with a upsidedown book on his hands.
malewife choso.
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Shui:
You've been flicking and massaging your cunt for a couple of minutes now but still couldn't bring your self to orgasm "Fuck!" you exclaimed "you done?" your ears perked up hearing someone spoke behind you.
"Oh mother-!" you jolt as you see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.
"Can't cum?" he chuckles as lifts you up infront the big mirror in your bedroom.
"Wanna learn?" he adds you couldn't speak so you nod eagerly, his right arm grabs your cheek to face the mirror "m'kay" he guides your hand on your pussy circling it around the labia then pressing it hard on your clit, he nuzzles on your neck whispering that you're such a nasty girl,
"you couldn't hold back,hm?"
"didn't wait for me and had fun yourself?"
"fuck, just keep on moaning darling.."
he whispers on your ear as he guides your fingers to go faster- you were trembling, trembling with pleasure! soon after you climaxed your fingers was covered with your cum you nuzzled on Shui's biceps as he drags your hand to his mouth to suck your fingers clean.
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a/n: ok I'm sleeping kidding- erm it took me 19 days to finish this shit bro?? nahhh my procatinating shit is ABOVE average ugh I hate myself anyways do you guys want part two? (Ino,Nanami,Higuruma,Kusakabe,Ijichi) and if this flops I SWEAR!
1K notes · View notes
elsplayground · 6 months
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Goverment Hooker
dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )
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Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.
w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )
a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3
Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!
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“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.
Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”
You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.
Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.
“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.
You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.
“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.
“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.
He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.
“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon
“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”
You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.
You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.
“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.
“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”
You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.
But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?
Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.
After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.
“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.
“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.
“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.
“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”
You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.
You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.
“How many secrets can you keep ?
‘Cause there’s this tune I found
That makes me think of you
somehow”
This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.
“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”
“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.
“So like… you just want sex?”
He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’” 
“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.
“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.
“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.
“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.
“You didn’t say no though” you smile.
“Doesn’t mean I agree.”
“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.
“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”
“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.
You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.
“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say
“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.
“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.
It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.
The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.
“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”
two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.
“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”
Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.
“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.
“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.
You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?
Tease him.
You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.
He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.
“Fuck” he spits.
He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.
Oh.My.God.
Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.
He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.
“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.
His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.
“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.
“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.
He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.
Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock
“We can keep it secret.” You smirk
“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”
You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”
After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.
Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.
“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.
A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.
“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.
Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.
“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.
 You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.
“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.
“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.
You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.
His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.
“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…
He stops. Fuck
Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?
The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.
The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.
“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips
“What…My panties?” you frown.
“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.
You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.
Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.
“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.
You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.
 “Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.
You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.
The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.
Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?
You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????
You save his number into your contacts.
Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case
You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.
Your phone buzzes again.
Joel:  what you writing ?
You:  Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?
Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy
You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+
After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.
“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.
Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.
“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.
He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.
“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.
“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”
“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”
 And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.
You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.
He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.
He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.
“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”
His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.
He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.
The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.
“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.
Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.
“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.
A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.
He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.
“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.
His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.
“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.
“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.
His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.
Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.
He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.
“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.
He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.
“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.
“Uh huh” he nods.
He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.
He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.
He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.
“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.
“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.
After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.
“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.
“Fuck Joel, I love you”
You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.
After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.
You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.
“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“
Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.
“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”
<3 Hr43s
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