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bambiesfics · 7 months

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Cock in a Gloryhole - Ellie x reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ public sex, reader deepthroating Ellie’s cock (strap-on), Ellie cums untouched, Ellie yearns for readers lips, very hyper-sexual descriptions. Ellie’s strap is almost exclusively referred to as a cock/dick/etc, pining, missed connection. This is a filthy fic.

Ellie’s a slutty gay and very judgmental.

!!! [please help palestine] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie slid her converse off of the toilet handle. The brazen girl fished for her pants’ zipper. She held her cock in one hand, and fought with the zipper with the other. The cheap metal wasn’t fastening over the straps on her hips, it was catching on her harness. “Jesus fuck. Now? Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes and smoothed her bangs down. After a few beats, the bored brunette circled the stall, then slumping against the chipped navy door. Cock in hand, balls barely zipped up. She chuckled to herself, there was probably some stupid fucking metaphor for that out there somehwere. She wasn’t going to step out like that, with the veins of her dick saying “hi” over her half zipped pants? Fuck. No. It wasn’t in the cards. But the zip wasn’t budging. Ellie felt a scowl forming; The kid was pissed. She didn’t have time for this, not now. Not when there was a gorgeous service teller at the center that she’d been mentally undressing for the better part of her visit. A woman who belonged on her knees, in front of Ellie. A woman with the perfect mouth to suck dick clean. Ellie toe’d her converses on the dirty grout lines hatch marked across the tile floor. The repetition of it lulled her into a meditation as she contemplated how to escape this awkward mess she somehow tripped headfirst into. Getting into awkward shit like this was her forté, but the benefits of packing far outweighed the headaches.

The stall next to her swung open, the clacking heels were rhythmic and sharp. Feminine little steps. A woman sat down, and did her business as she hummed. Ellie scaled her eyes along the bathroom wall that separated her and the lady. The wall was grotty. Old and well worn from years of servicing and decades of business. The maintenance was abysmal on its best day, and it made for a pleasant surprise when Ellie’s eyes zero’d in on the hole carved out haphazardly. There were still pieces of drywall sticking out past the lament of duck tape all around the hole. Ellie chuckled grimily, just high enough that the woman paused her rustling once the realization that she wasn’t alone had settled. The prick-fucking developers who were responsible for this project definitely forgot to remodel this bathrooms stalls’ when they added a new male bathroom to the bottom floor of the building. The little glory hole had a glaring missing chunk of ‘wall’ from its separation of the two stalls, and it’d had that for years from the looks of it. It had a bunch of old thin splinters of amber oak and drywall sticking out. The eyesore pointed to the empty hole like a pair of flashing neon arrows pointing to a seedy Las Vegas strip club.

Ellie doubted it got used much, if at all. If any of the prissy women who sat down to release themselves understood why there was a giant fucking hole the size of a two baseballs stacked vertically in their bathroom stall. Nah, Ellie mused. They definitely just kept their gaze straight ahead if they noticed anything amiss. A prim attempt at respecting the other woman’s privacy. Except, the irony was in the fact that, the point of that hole carved in the wall, the hole yelling “FUCK ME,” was to trample all over another stranger’s privacy. To proclaim yourself a king with a heavy cock and see if they’d submit to it.

Ellie stroked her cock, squeezing the base then working her way to the tip, warming it up in her hands. She unzipped the rest of her pants, and let the balls spring free. The balls dropped a little past the zipper, it took the edge off the pressure in her leather jeans. Mmm, now this felt right.

She took a tentative step forward, debating her next step. But then she rolled her anxiety off her back. Undulating those fast twitch muscles that lined her back to stretch and warm, to relax. It wasn’t that serious. Call it “part of the plot,” call it whatever you want. But what Ellie wanted to do was going to be insanely amusing. She needed the amusement if she was gonna be stuck here until her zipper decided to cooperate. Ellie’s converses padded to the wall, it’s toe box lined up with the bottom of it. Nosing against the edge. She lined up her cock with the glory hole and slowly fed the hole inches of her cock, until she bottomed out and her balls were trapped between her hairy pelvis and the wall. She held her breath. Her palms scaled the wall. The woman on the other side gasped, Ellie could only imagine how she clutched her hand to her chest and scrambled to pull her bag up over her shoulder. Ready to run to building security and report the “creep” in the ladies bathroom stall. The creep was Elizabeth “I <3 pussy” Williams with her cock fucking a glory hole. This would make for a hilarious prank to joke about with Jessie later. Jesse would think Ellie was bustin’ his balls, making up some new lie to fuck with his head. And she’d revel in the way his face would drain of colour once he realized she wasn’t.

Ellie grasped the base of her cock and lifted it up a little bit, practically taunting “yoohoo!” With the motion. Letting her heavy shaft say “hi” to the poor woman who was facing it head-on. She grinned again, and prepared herself to tuck her dick back in her pants like a good boy and behave.

But then she heard clothes rustling, and the tug she felt on her harness made her eyes fly open. Her heart rate picked up. Blood was rushing in Ellie’s head. She didn’t actually expect a sweet lady to open up her lips and suck her off. But the eager lips on the other side, started sucking her cockhead before she could process it. The woman bubbled saliva onto Ellie’s tip to aid in the lubrication. Then the lady sucked Ellie’s fat cock in all the way to the hilt, until her nose bumped the soft skin shove Ellie’s groin. All that could be seen were puffy red lips and the tip of the girl's nose. But it made Ellie fucking sprung. Her mind was clouded with raging lust as the moans of “…fuck baby..” whimpered from Ellie’s lips. The rest of the sentence would’ve concluded with “…I didn’t expect you to actually blow me.” If Ellie could think straight.

The girl on the other side of the stall was enthusiastic to have cock in her mouth. She was sucking up and down Ellie’s full length. Using her sloppy saliva to help her lips slide up and down the length. Ellie shoved her pelvis into the wall until both of her hip bones were bruised and beat grinding against the wall. She was greedy to feel more suction. Ellie’s chubby cock had a puffy head, and a fat veiny shaft. Her cock was the color of obsidian, just like Ellie’s harness. And her wrinkly fat balls held her squishy testes. The ones she forced all girls to palm for reality’s sake. For all intents and purposes; this was Ellie’s fucking cock. And so she could feel it when the woman on the other side gagged on her dick so eagerly, it was as if she was desperate for Ellie to paint her throat in warm cum.

Ellie started moaning the more she heard the woman on the other side gag on her. She could just imagine the way her dick was creating an imprint in her throat, sliding down and bulging. Ellie was large, she’d seen her do that to a girl before. She couldn’t help but whimper at the image of a sweet girl impaling her dainty throat around Ellie’s thick piece, in a seedy business bathroom. God what a beautiful fucking piece of ass must on the other side of the stall. A girl with the lips of a killer, sloppy and greedy. Hungry to suck off a creep. Probably with a perfect vagina to match; a hole just as sloppy, just as greedy. A hole only fit for a King to thrust into. Good thing Ellie thought of herself as a King too. Ellie decided, as she watched your red lips deepthroat her length, that the very moment the girl on her knees was done digging her tongue into Ellie’s cock slit, she’d knock down the door of the stall you were in, and ram into your glossy pussy over the toilet. You would coat Ellie’s cock in the sticky saliva held inside your puffy little hole too. Two sets of lips for Ellie to abuse.

Ellie bit her fist to prevent herself from choking out a moan. God. You popped your lips off, and stroked up Ellie’s dick with your little fist. Up and down and up and down, before you put it back in your mouth to deepthroat one more time. You wanted to nose against the pale girl's skin again, feel her bush tickle the tip of your nose. Smell the soft patch of hair, the salt of her skin. The sexy art of her bush and happy trail. Ellie yelled out a hoarse “Fuck-k!” And you could tell she came. She soaked her black Klein boxers. Maybe she came from those eager motions grinding her harness against her swollen pink clit. Or maybe she came untouched, hole spasming scarily just because of how aroused Ellie was by you. You placed a gentle kiss on her cockhead with your red lips. Ellie bit down her fist, hard. She broke skin, and drew blood.

If you could’ve, you would’ve loved to have Ellie’s real cum dribbling down your tongue instead. You stood up to pull your panties flush against your plump cunt. Finished with your prior business. There was slick dripping in between all of your puffy folds, and you knew your panties would stay wet the entire rest of the day from just the way they were suctioned to your cunt alone.

You stepped out to wash your hands, heels clacking with an air of comportment. You waited for the girl whose cock you inhaled, to come out of the stall and address you. But she never came. Her back was pressed against the wall. Instead she slid down to collect herself. So you fixed your blouse, hid your cleavage, touched up your smeared lipstick after rubbing it all off on Ellie, and massaged your nipples so they wouldn’t poke so prominently through your blouse. You shimmied in your tight skirt and clacked out of the bathroom. Leaving the girl hiding in the stall, to catch her breath and will the staccato of her heartbeat away. Ellie wasn’t new to coming untouched, but coming from the visuals and motion of a stranger sucking her cock clean? That — that was a new one. She gulped and adjusted her boxers, because fucking Christ, they were heavily soaked from her own slick. With shaky hands the pale girl fished for her leather pants zipper. Pleading with the bitchy, cheap, metallic hardware over and over, until it finally pulled all the way up.

A rapid river of relief washed over Ellie, she couldn’t afford to be stuck in there anymore. Ellie stumbled out of the washroom, hoping to find you. She snapped her head back and forth, then stumbled around in circles trying to catch a flash of sloppy red lips. She thought of going to people and asking if they’d seen a lady with puffy red lips strut by. But then thought better of it. The idea sounded dumb as rocks, even to her own horned-out brain. Ellie rubbed her cock through her pants, feeling phantom sucks from memory. You were burned in her brain, forget the cute teller from earlier. You were her new Madonna, her new whore.

In your honour, she’d stroke her g-spot to a hot strap blowjob video tonight, to keep the memory of your filthy cocksucking mouth fresh.

Ellie hoped if there ever was a next time in that glory hole for her, that you’d line your little greedy hole right up in front of the glory hole in the stall, so Ellie could make you drip your cream down her cock. She’d love to pull her dick out of you, just to marvel at the beautiful rings of milk wrapped around her veiny shaft from your own sopping cunt. Ellie savored the idea of the screams she’d rip out of you, the cries and pleads you’d wail for her ears only. She’d rip you apart, and that would be the fucking cherry on top of her fucking birthday cake.

If she got the cake, she’d love to write “Ellie ‘Hung’ Williams” on the face of it just for shits.

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newbayremodeling · 8 months

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The Role Of Backsplashes In Tampa Bay Kitchen Design - New Bay Remodeling

A kitchen is often considered the heart of a home, and in Tampa Bay, where the weather is warm and the culture is rich, it’s no surprise that kitchen design plays a vital role in the overall aesthetics and functionality of a home. When it comes to kitchen design, one element that should not be underestimated is the backsplash. In this blog, we will explore the significant role of backsplashes in Tampa Bay kitchen design and how they can transform both the look and feel of your kitchen space. https://www.newbayremodeling.com/the-role-of-backsplashes-in-tampa-bay-kitchen-design/

#bathroom remodelers near me #tampa shower remodelers #shower enclosure tampa bay #shower remodeling tampa bay #impact window company tampa #one day bath remodeler tampa

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cult-of-husbandos · 23 days

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₊˚ʚ 🫧 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ━ 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡

pairing: soft yandere!bakudekutodo x willing!reader

genre: fluff, poly au, pro hero, gender neutral reader

synopsis: there's nothing more relaxing than taking a nice, hot bubble bath when you have the entire apartment to yourself with your playlist playing and the bathroom door locked.

word count: 4.8k

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The apartment is quiet and empty for the entire day since this morning, and you seized the chance for some much needed alone time. SWV’s Rain is playing from your bluetooth speaker, set on a low volume, softly bouncing echoes around the bathroom walls. You dipped your fingers under the running tap to test the temperature.

Hot. Perfect.

Smiling and humming to yourself, you pour in the scented bubble bath. As the bubbles formed a delicate, foamy blanket covering the tub, you turned off the tap.

You strip off your robe and sink slowly into the piping hot bubble bath. You let out a sigh of relief as you submerged your entire body into the bathtub, keeping your head above water. Thanks to your boyfriends’ unrelenting remodeling of the entire house, especially the bathroom, your bathtub is now big enough to be a sensory pod. You closed your eyes and let out another relaxing sigh, letting your body float and sway with the water.

“Fuck…” you moan. “I really needed this.”

You can’t remember the last time you had a bubble bath let alone the apartment all to yourself. Your boyfriends had to leave super early in the morning, leaving you alone once again. You wished you could enjoy your days out like before, but you had a feeling your boyfriends would tie you to the bed and never let you out ever again. Though you did have sun, or as much fun as you could, running small errands.

“I fucking love bubble baths!” you yell, splashing around and pumping your fist.

After floating and soaking in the comforting scent, you raise up and reach for your new book you bought this afternoon. You lean back and sigh again.

“Haah… this is the shit right here. All alone, 90’s R&B playing, and the latest new smut to hit the shelves for desperate housewives.”

You flip open the book and begin to read:

“In the barn where the shadows danced along the wooden walls, she walked alone, veiled in candle light. Her heart beat in a melodic rhythm longing to have a partner join in.”

“Ooh~. A spicy slow burn~.”

You continued reading, losing yourself in the novel and feeling your muscles relax in the water. For a while, nothing else existed but you, your hot bubble bath, your music, and the story unfolding in your hands.

That is, until you heard the front door of the apartment open and close. You lowered your book a bit and listened out for the sounds of who came home. You’re immediately dreading the inevitable. There’s a good reason you wanted to take this bath alone. You heard a voice call softly. The master bathroom is a bit far from the entrance. Soft beats of feet quickly turned into panicked thuds. Thuds that sounded like running. The thuds came to a halt outside the bathroom door and the doorknob jiggled stiffly/ You must’ve locked the door on instinct.

“(Y/N)?” A gentle but panicked voice called out, a bit muffled. Izuku Midoriya, the number one hero of Japan. You smile to yourself, hearing his worry. The man can knock down a building using only his pinky but can look so cute while doing it. His baby face doesn’t match his buff and scarred body and you often tease him about it, calling him the baby-faced hero.

‘It’s rare that he’s home first. That’s surprising…’ you think to yourself. A knock brought you out of your thoughts.

“Baby… are you in there?” he asked, sounded even more worried the longer you stayed silent. There’s no point in staying silent. Not only is the locked door a dead giveaway that you’re in here, but Lauryn Hill’s Ex-Factor is echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby. I'm in here.” you answer. “How was your day? It’s rare that you’re the first one home.”

“Oh! Good. And yeah! Things ended early at the agency so I came home as soon as I could.”

Jiggle Jiggle

“Oh really? That’s even rarer! You’re really lucky.”

Jiggle Rattle Jiggle

“Yeah! And I have even tomorrow off so we can spend all morning sleeping in together!”

Rattle Rattle Jiggle

“That’ll be fun! It’s been a while since you had a day off.”

BANG

There’s a pause on the other side of the door.

“Baby…” His voice is quiet. “Why is the door locked?”

“Because I’m in here?” you chuckle at the question. “I’m taking a bubble bath.”

“Oh, I see.” It got quiet again. “Can you come out please?”

You sigh, knowing this would happen eventually but you thought you’d be done and at least clothed. Izuku is the clingiest one out of your boyfriends, a close second to a certain icy-hottie. “I would, buuut I just got in and it’s a bit ridiculous to get out the tub, dry off, welcome you home, and get back in the tub.”

“I can get in the bathtub with you!” Izuku is no longer turning the doorknob. It sounds more like he’s pushing his weight onto the door.

“Izuku, I would really like some alone time right now.”

“What.” His tone sounded somewhere between hurt and distressed. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me? What’re you doing in there? Are you doing something that you don’t want me to see? Why would you have the door locked in our house? What’re you hiding from me? I don’t like secrets, (Y/N). (Y/N)? Open the door. Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you really hiding something from me? You can open the door for me, right? If you can open the door that means that you have nothing to hide, right? I want to hug you and kiss you so much. Don’t you want to kiss me too? Don’t you love me anymore? Open the door please…!”

Loud banging rattled the walls as Izuku forcefully tried to get in the bathroom, muttering his feelings out loud. You, on the other hand, remained calm. You’ve dealt with this situation before and knew how to handle his spirals. You also know that the door isn’t going to budge even with Japan's strongest hero banging down on it.

“Hey Izu?” you called out, sweetly. “You’re not trying to use your quirk to break down the door, are you?”

The banging and rattling immediately stopped and was followed by a long pause.

“H-Huh?”

“Right. You wouldn’t do that because you know that during the remodeling you replaced all the doors and windows with a specific material that can’t be broken or shattered by any quirk including abnormal strength quirks, right?” You try to mask your teasing tone, but can’t help but slyly smile, imagining the embarrassed look on his face.

“N-No! I mean yes! I do remember that…” he mumbled sheepishly.

You stifle a giggle. Izuku is always fun to tease. “Zuzu. How about we make a deal?”

“A deal?”

“Yeah. If you set a time for an hour I promise, even when the rest of the boys come home first, you will be the first one to get welcome home hugs and kisses.”

This is a big deal in the apartment. It’s become routine that when the boys come home you greet them with a hug and kisses. Normally, only a certain hothead has been the reigning champion of that routine since they’re always the first one home. Izuku has always wanted to be the first one home so he can love you first, but his schedule never gave him the opportunity, having to settle for second place and, sometimes, third place. You can tell from the happy mumblings behind the door that he’s ecstatic about it, however…

“An hour? I don’t know if I can wait for an hour.” he whined.

You hum and think for a minute. “Okay, how about 45 minutes? You can get started on dinner so the time goes by faster. I’d really love it if you made me your delicious Karaage.”

“Okay! It’s a promise! I’ll get started right away!” You can hear the excitement in his voice as his footsteps headed towards the kitchen.

You laugh lightly at your goofy boyfriend and relax back into the tub, reopening your book.

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Time passed and you are at a particularly steamy moment in the novel –

“Farmhand Ben ran his calloused fingers through her hair – his hot breath causing a shiver to run down her spine. This feeling was new to Dorothy. Sparks of heat were radiating from her womanhood that couldn’t be smothered by the stormy flood that soaked her cotton panties. Her nipples stood erect at the scent of a dominant man’s musk.”

“...Her what now?”

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut and heavy and impatient footsteps could be heard throughout the apartment. You jump at the sudden noise only to calm down once you recognize the shouting – Bakugou Katsuki, your second boyfriend and Japan’s number two hero. His shouts can be heard all the way to the bathroom. Again, the kitchen and the master bathroom is far so the fact you could hear him only made it more prominent how loud he’s being. You roll your eyes when you hear him shout at Izuku.

“Oi! (Y/N)! Where the hell are you?!”

Normally, Bakugou is the first one home so it’s become routine that you’re the first one he sees and he’s the first one to receive a welcome home hug and kiss. He always brags about it to make the others jealous.

You groan inwardly. You love your boyfriend, but sometimes he’s too damn loud. Before you could respond, Bakugou’s already in front of the bathroom door, hammering and rattling the door and doorknob harder than Izuku had. Izuku must’ve told him where you were.

“Welcome home, Katsuki.” you greet nonchalantly.

“Don’t fuck with me! What the hell’re you doing in there with the door locked?!” he asked, his voice full of aggression and annoyance. Typical Bakugou.

“I’m doing my taxes.”

“(Y/N).” he warned.

“I’m taking a bubble bath, Katsuki.”

“Why the hell are you taking a bath?!”

“Um, to smell good obviously.”

“Then why don’t you take a shower, dumbass?!”

“I’m not having this argument with you again!”

Another big bang came from behind the door.

“Get the hell out here! I want my hugs and kisses!” he demanded.

“I’m kinda naked and wet right now!”

“You’re always fucking wet and naked!”

Blushing, you stuttered and quickly changed the subject. “D-Didn’t you yell at Izu yesterday for tracking water on the bathroom floor after his shower?”

“That’s different! That shitty nerd can barely dry his hair and he’s always wandering around the house half-dry!”

You sigh heavily and lean back, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You refuse to let his temper ruin your mood. “Well, I’m not done yet. I’ll give you a proper ‘welcome home’ when I’m done, okay? Just be patient.”

A tense silence filled the air only lightened a bit by your music before he spoke again. “I’m not in the mood to be ignored, babe.”

“I’m not ignoring you! I just want to take a bubble bath in peace.”

You hear the muffled popping of his quirk against the door. Bakugou is a very needy person. Clingy and needy might sound the same, but between Izuku and Bakugou it’s a huge difference. Izuku is the clingy type in the same sense that he pleads and holds onto you 24/7 begging for kisses and whispering ‘i love you’s’ all day long. Bakugou is the needy type to where if you forget to give him a kiss once he’ll have a temper tantrum and demand double kisses and never let you forget it again. Whatever he wants is a need and whatever he needs he wants. You sigh again quietly hearing the muffled booms get louder and louder, the slight smell of smoke seeping into the bathroom.

“Hey Katsuki?”

“Hah?!”

“I’d really love it if you made us your spicy ramen for dinner tonight.”

“Haah?!!”

“If you make it, I promise that as soon as I’m done I’ll give you double the kisses and sit on your lap during dinner.”

There was a pause as the booms came to a stop. “You promise?”

“I promise.” you reassure.

He let out a huff. “Tch, fine! But you better keep your damn promise! Or I’m busting this damn door down!”

With that, he stormed off, grumbling loudly under his breath. You knew he wouldn’t really break down the door. Not only because it was an idle threat, but also because after Izuku made the windows and doors virtually unbreakable, he hired someone to make the doors fire retardant as well. You remember him calling Izuku an idiot for not thinking about the “obvious”. You returned back to your book, raising the volume of Mary J. Blige’s I’m Going Down slightly to drown out Bakugou’s yelling.

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You lost track of time as you continued to read your novel, nearly reaching the end:

“Dorothy ran away from the ranch that night. Ran away from the barn where she became a woman. Ran away from Farmhand Ben. Ran away from the only place she ever called home. She couldn’t describe the betrayal she felt nor the heartbreak that racked her body. Heavy rain poured down on Dorothy’s small frame, soaking her white attire. She ran far on the winding dirt road, her breasts bobbing boobily with every bounce. Her nipples twirling–”

“Okay, what the actual fuck am I reading? Who the fuck wrote this?” You look at the front and back of the book. “T.I.A Morison? …There’s no picture either? Oh my god, this was written by a fucking man, wasn’t it?!”

“(Y/N), are you in there?” A soft voice called out to you, surprising you from your rant. Shoto Todoroi, your third boyfriend, is finally home. You were so wrapped up in this shitty smut that you didn’t hear the front door or his footsteps approaching the bathroom door.

“Oh, yeah Shoto. I’m in the bath,” you answer, placing your book down on the floor. “Welcome home.”

“I’m home.”

“...”

“Shoto?” you called out, wondering why he’s being silent. “Do you need something?”

“I need you.” he answered, quickly and bluntly.

You laugh. “I’m taking a bubble bath right now, honey. Can you wait until I finish?”

He pauses before speaking again. “I heard you talking about a man.”

“Oh yeah.” you grumbled, thinking to yourself that you should return the book tomorrow.

“Why?”

“Um…”

“Are you thinking of other men? Why were you shouting about another man? Is that why the door is locked?”

You sigh to yourself. Shoto is the most obsessive out of the other two with a big mix of clingy and needy. He’d burn down an apartment building at the slightest mention of you being chilly. He’s actually the one that “suggested” that you stay at home. Well, his actual first suggestion is to keep you locked in the bedroom so you won’t get hurt wandering the apartment.

“Answer me, (Y/N).” An icey bitterness blows from under the door and sends a chill down your spine, making you sink a little deeper into the now lukewarm water.

“Woah, calm down, honey.” you soothe. “I was just talking about the author of this novel I’m reading. Clearly there are men walking this earth that don’t know a goddamn thing about female anatomy!” You’re getting riled up thinking about the paragraph.

“So… you aren’t thinking about men?”

“Absolutely not. You, Katsuki, and Izuku are all I think about.”

“Prove it.”

“Um… prove what?”

“Prove that you weren’t thinking about another man. Show me the book.”

“Haah… Shoto, baby… I know that’s just a ploy to get me to open the door, but I promise that once I’m done, I’ll show you the book so that you can burn it because honestly it’s not even worth the hassle of returning it.”

“...”

“Shoto?”

“I don’t like this.”

“Hm? Don’t like what?”

“Talking to this door and… only hearing your voice. I want to see you and touch you and hold you when we talk. I don’t like it when you’re away from me.” he explained, a pleading tone evident in his voice. “It makes me… anxious.”

You feel a bit guilty. Shoto’s always the last one home so he’s always in last place to everything happening in the relationship. Cuddles, kisses, hand holding, movie nights, dinner times, date nights, etc.. Even though he never mentioned it, you always got the feeling he felt left out when it came to together and alone time since Bakugou and Izuku would swoop up and steal you. Especially during bedtime.

“I’m sorry, Sho. I didn’t mean to make you anxious.” you apologize. “To make it up to you, I will… cuddle you for the next 3 nights and make you your favorite food for those days as well. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“You promise?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I promise.” you replied.

Just then, rapid footsteps approached the door.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! It’s been 45 minutes! Remember your promise!” Izuku announced, knocking impatiently.

“Yeah yeah! Okay, I’m getting out now.”

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You emerged from the bedroom and walked into the living room, fully dried off and wearing Shoto’s shirt with your comfy dolphin shorts. You smile seeing all your boyfriends setting up the table in their own casual pajamas. Thank goodness this apartment had more than one bathroom. Once Katsuki notices you, he groans and rolls his eyes, making his way to you.

“Fucking finally! Thought you were gonna be in there all night!” He raises his arms to hug you, but you stop him.

“Nuh-uh.” You step aside.

“Huh?! The fuck you mean “nuh-uh”?!”

“Izuku got home first and I promised him that I would greet him first.”

You walk up and hug your smiley freckled boyfriend. Katsuki clicked his tongue.

“Shitty Deku! Don’t think you’re hot shit just ‘cause you got home first! If I weren’t busy dealing with idiots and shitty villains, I’d be home first! I’ll be here first tomorrow so fall back behind me, shitnerd!”

“I just got lucky to get home first, Kacchan. Don’t be selfish.” Izuku responded calmly with a smirk. He cupped your cheek and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I missed you…” he murmured into your shoulder, placing soft kisses along your clavicle.

“It was only 45 minutes, silly.” you say with a laugh. “But I missed you too.”

Izuku raised his face to look at you with a soft look in his eyes that still had a hint of neediness in them. “Yeah, but it felt like forever…” he mumbled, reluctantly letting you after a few minutes.

Katsuki stared at you intensely as you approached him. He hates being in second place, especially to Izuku. His usual scowl fixed to his face, but you know deep down he’s just as eager to get a kiss from you as the others.

“Took you long enough, dumbass.” he grumbled, his hands immediately settling on your waist and pulling you in close.

You roll your eyes playfully and wrap your arms around his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned in close, his lips barely touching yours. “Damn right, you should be.” he muttered, his expression softening as he leaned in for a kiss. His kisses are rough and demanding, but have an unmistakable sense of warmth and neediness. As promised, you gave him double the kisses which he took full advantage of, taking his chances to shoot boastful glares at a jealous Izuku. When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours and stared lovingly in your eyes.

“Lock me out again and I’ll destroy every damn door in this place, got it?” he ordered, his voice taking on a commanding tone.

“Got it.” you whisper back, giving him one last peck on the nose before moving onto Shoto.

Shoto’s gaze remains unwavering as you approach him, his heterochromatic eyes staring deeply into your soul. He didn’t say a word, just simply grabbed onto your waist with a firm grasp.

“I’m home.” he whispered softly, possessiveness in his tone as he smiled at you. Before you can greet him back, he quickly leaned in and captured your lips with a slow, deep kiss that left you breathless. His cool fingers traced the line down your back causing a shiver to run down your spine. He chucked against your lips, savoring the shivers from your body pressed against him. When he pulled back, he buried his face in your neck. “Next time, let me in with you. I can’t stand being away from you too long.”

You chuckle softly and nod. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With all three of them satisfied – at least for now – you pulled away and looked at your chefs for tonight’s dinner.

“Now, can we eat?” you ask, licking your lips. “I’m starving and the food smells soo good.”

Izuku nods eagerly, his eyes brightening. “Yes, of course! I hope you like it! I tried really hard to make it extra yummy for you!”

Bakugou sucked his teeth and crossed his arms. “If it tastes like shit, I’m killing you, shitty nerd!”

You giggle lightly at the banter happening between two of your boyfriends and take a seat next to Bakugou as promised, which made him smirk in silent pride. He nearly pulled you into his lap, that’s how close he wanted you next to him. However, you weren’t focused on that. You were focused on the delicious aroma of fried chicken and spicy ramen that filled the living room. The combination of food in front of you makes your mouth water and the table is soon filled with the chattering of chopsticks and the satisfied slurps and hums of approval.

“Mm! You really outdid yourself, Izu!” you exclaim between bites, munching eagerly on the chicken. “This is amazing!”

“I’m glad you like it! I tried my best!” Izuku beamed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

Katsuki huffed. “It’s not that amazing. It’s under-seasoned and the chicken is chewy as hell.”

Yet, you saw that he continued to eat the non-amazing chicken. “Aww~! Are you jealous, Ka-tsu-ki~?” you tease.

A bright red blush covered Bakugou’s cheeks and the tip of ears. “H-Hah?! Fucking no!”

“I love your spicy ramen too, Katsuki. You’re such an amazing chef.” Sometimes it helps to stroke his ego to yield his jealousy.

Bakugou huffed again, clearly pleased with your praise, but trying to play it off. “Of course it’s good. I made it, didn’t I?”

You laugh at his tsundere-like response, but before you could tease him anymore, Izuku interjected. “So, how was your day, (Y/N)? What did you do while we were out?”

“Oh, not much.” you answer, taking a bit of spicy ramen. “Just ran a few errands, went to the bookstore, not much else.”

They all stopped immediately and gave you varying looks of surprise and concern.

Shoto raises his eyebrow. “You went outside?”

“Mhm.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah, but just for a bit.” you reassure, already sensing the possessiveness radiating from them. “Plus, I wasn’t gone all day. Maybe 2 or 3 hours max and just to a couple of stores.”

Each of your boyfriends exchanged knowing looks as you continued.

“Oh! I also ran into Sero and Kaminari while I was out.”

That set them off. Izuku’s eyes darkened at the mention of their names, small lines of smoke rose from Shoto, and Bakugou scowled harshly, snapping his chopsticks in half and pulling you closer to him tightly.

“Those two extra?” Bakugou growled irritably. “What the fuck did they want with you?”

“They just said hi and asked how everyone was doing,” you tell them, shrugging. “Oh! And Kaminari said that there’s going to be a drinking party this Friday and they want you to come, Katsuki. He said Mina, Kirishima, and Ochako are gonna be there too–”

“Fuck that!” he spat. “Why the hell would I want to waste my time with those bastards when I can come home and drink for free and be with people I actually care about?!”

“Aw Bakubabe–”

“Shut the fuck up, Icy-hot!”

“Well, they knew you would say that so they told me to tell you that they're gonna go ahead and reserve the restaurant anyway. They didn’t tell me the name because they were afraid you’d call and cancel, but they did say that it was a place that had your credit card on file.”

Tiny sparks popped from Bakugou’s clenched fist, burning his broken chopsticks. “Those damn bastards…”

Shoto’s expression remained neutral, but the grip on his chopsticks tightened, freezing it nearly solid. “I don’t like the idea of you going out alone.” Shoto said firmly.

Izuku, trying to stay calm but visibly anxious, chimed in as well. “I agree with Todoroki! W-What if something happened to you and we couldn’t get to you? There’s been an increase in villain attacks lately and I’d never forgive myself if–”

“Woah there, Zuzu. Breathe, all of you. Nothing happened I swear. I was careful and made sure to stay in the safe areas. Besides, I’m pretty capable of defending myself with all the stuff you guys gave me. The pepper spray, taser, pocket knives, mace, bear mace, brass knuckles, brass knuckles with a taser in it–”

“W-What?! I never gave you any of that stuff!”

“I gave it to them. You can never be too cautious with these fucking people.” Katsuki grumbled, his grip tightening on your thigh.

“Katsuki’s right. And I promise, it was just a quick trip. I just didn’t want to be cooped up inside all day. I really don’t mind staying inside, but I really had an itch to go outside today. I’ve even read every book in this house, even the manual for the dishwasher, refrigerator, and toaster oven which is why I went to the bookstore. Oh, that reminds me. Shoto sweetie, I need you to burn a book for me.”

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath, still clearly annoyed, but he didn’t push it further since the bigger problem of Sero and Kaminari abusing his card in a random restaurant made him angrier. Shoto’s gaze lingered on you a bit longer before he sighed and nodded, accepting your explanation.

“Wait… burn your book?”

To ease the tension, Izuku quickly perked up. “Oh! I know! Since I’m off tomorrow, if you want, how about we go on a date? Just the two of us.” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

You smile at him. “We haven’t been out together in a while. I’d love that.”

“Yay! It’s a date!” he exclaimed, giddy with anticipation.

The rest of dinner became relaxed again as you all talked about your day, the current hero gossip, and the latest on villain activity in the city.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

After dinner, you all heated to bed. As promised, you cuddled up next to Shoto, who’s already lying under the covers waiting for you. He pulled you into his embrace the moment you slipped into bed, his blend of cool and hot soothing you.

“I’ve been looking forward to this since dinner.” Shoto whispered against your ear, his breath tickling your neck and sending shivers down your spine. His grip on you is firm, almost like he’s staking his claim on you, but there’s a gentleness in how he holds you close.

You snuggled closer into him, feeling his heartbeat steady against your back. “I promised, didn’t I?” you murmured back, smiling.

Meanwhile, Izuku and Bakugou stood at the foot of the bed, looking at you two with a mixture of resignation and jealousy. Izuku pouted, clearly wanting to be the one holding you and Bakugou just crossed his arms, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Tch! You’re hogging them, you icy-hot bastard.” Katsuki complained.

Shoto simply closed his eyes, content with having you in his arms. “You’ll get your turn in 3 days.” he sighed calmly.

“What the hell?!”

“3 days?! That’s not fair!”

“A promise is a promise, Zuku. Don’t be selfish.” you say, throwing his words back at him.

It was Izuku’s turn to huff with a pout. He climbed into bed, facing you while Bakugou settled in behind him. “Fine,” he grumbled, a pout on his adorable lips. “but I’m not letting you get away with this again.” He reached out his hand to gently touch your, interlocking your fingers with his. Katsuki grunted in agreement, sleep taking over him.

As the night grew quiet, the soft sound of their breathing lulled you to sleep. Shoto’s arms were wrapped securely around you and Izuku intimately held your hand even in deep sleep. Bakugou’s soft snoring even sounded melodic. Their combined warmth surrounded you in a cocoon of affection.

Maybe next time you’ll invite them to your next bubble bath.

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

a/n: making my first poly mha fanfic so i hope i did good! also trying out a new new style and format so let me know if you like it! my inbox is open so if you have a suggestion, shoot me one. i'm not the best at answering, but i do my best!♡

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 months

Text

Pink Victorian Italianate alert and she's a beauty. 1869 lady in lovely Belvidere, New Jersey. 5bds, 3ba, $584K. Nicely renovated in 2000.

It looks like the entrance hall has a faux marble finish on the the stairs and molding. I wonder if that's wall paper. Interesting. The railing is definitely original.

Wow, they really love this home- look at all the decor and they went for Bradbury and Bradbury wallpaper on the walls and ceilings. I'm surprised that it's under $1M, but Belvidere is a quaint country area up in the north western corner of NJ with a population of a little over 2500.

Actually, annual Victorian Days celebrate the town's history, and there's a lot of stuff to celebrate!

Fancy pocket doors open from the sitting room to the dining room. Check out that green fireplace. They had professionally painted faux finishes done throughout the home.

I don't mind the kitchen remodel b/c of the castle-like stone wallpaper and stained glass window.

Here's a cute little room.

A home like this, I would be hesitant to buy, though, b/c I know I could never be able to furnish it properly. It takes years to fill a house like this.

Beautiful- this bedroom is done in a vintage tropical motif.

What a lovely bathroom. I would get one of those Victorian reproduction toilets though, w/the wooden tank above it.

I wish they would've taken photos of the upper floor, but the description says that professional photos are coming.

Fairytale princess room. I like how the canopy lights up.

Gorgeous. This bedroom has a little atelier.

Wow, look at this bed.

Stunning. If there's one thing I hate, it's went they put a modern bath in a Victorian- this is wonderful.

1.09 acres of beautifully landscaped property.

The original carriage house has a lot potential.

Beautiful piece of property.

https://www.trulia.com/home/430-green-ln-belvidere-nj-07823-40096595

#victorian home #italianate home #victorian architecture #pink houses #houses #house tours #home tours

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captain-hawks · 3 months

Note

Hiiii~

Sorry if this request might be a bit much for a sleepover request, but would you please write a scenario where Kuroo and Bokuto walk in on the reader trying to relive herself after a rough day at work and they both end up helping her out?

Thank youuuu 🖤

(oouuuuu no this was the perfect request nonnie ty<3)

a little help

tetsurou kuroo x f!reader x koutarou bokuto

c: 18+, masturbation, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), squirting

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — THREESOME EDITION!

“No!”

The steady buzzing noise muffled beneath your comforter comes to an abrupt stop as your vibrator dies, sending the steady progress of the building heat of your pleasure right down the drain with it, and you cry out in frustration, shoving the offending object off of the bed.

It’s been a shit day.

Traffic made you late for work, you spilled coffee all over the front of your white blouse, customers were absolutely awful up until the moment that you clocked out, you discovered on the way home that your favorite takeout place is indefinitely closed for remodeling—

—and the icing on the shitty cake is the fact that you tiredly plugged your vibrator into the power strip beside your bed last night to charge it, only to discover that you had accidentally turned off said power strip when you stumbled to the bathroom shortly after.

Sighing, you flop backward onto your pillow, idly toying with your pebbled nipples through the thin, silky fabric of your tank top, your free hand trailing down your stomach and sliding into your panties. Knuckles brushing against the lace material, you drag your middle finger over your clit, kicking off the now too-warm covers.

And if you spread your legs open a little wider, rucking up your top to expose your breasts as you let your traitorous mind wander to a particular thought that you’ve actively been trying to forget for weeks, well, nobody else needs to know.

Heat crawls up the side of your neck as the moans heard through the thin walls of your bedroom from the one adjacent play back in your mind, the sound of your roommate’s bed frame creaking beneath the weight of his body and another.

The breathy, feminine laugh that was followed by Bokuto’s deep, distinct chuckle.

The sound of his bedroom door opening and closing.

Kuroo’s fucking voice.

The wet, slick sound of skin on skin.

The shared moans and whimpers and frantic, labored breathing between three people.

You’ve known Bokuto and Kuroo for years. And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed them both in the past, once or twice. There’s been an over-the-shirt boob grab or two. Sometimes you cuddle with them while watching movies on the couch. It’s all petty moments of intimacy that have never amounted to much, feelings of attraction that you’ve learned to ignore in favor of your friendships, especially when you live with one of them now.

But this—

This fucking knowledge that you’re now burdened with—

You’ve tried to be an adult about it, laughing it off when Bokuto flushed and apologized for the noise the next morning, scurrying to your room afterward to open up a dating app you don’t even care about for the mere sake of a distraction.

And you would have taken this stupid fucking fantasy that’s been lying in wait in the back of your mind for years like a sleeper agent to the grave, buried under lock and key, if you hadn’t finally had your deepest, darkest desire confirmed—

Bokuto and Kuroo are into threesomes.

Together.

It’s embarrassing how wet you feel yourself get as the memory transforms, the face of the nameless girl replaced with your own, hips arching up off the bed as you imagine how it would feel to be filled by both of them at the same time.

“Kuroo,” you moan. “Bokuto.”

And because anything that can go wrong most certainly fucking will today, the door to your room suddenly swings open at the exact moment their names leave your lips, an iced coffee from your favorite café in Kuroo’s hands and a bag from your other favorite takeout place clutched in Bokuto’s.

Oh.

Well, you had gone on a miserable tirade about your day in your group chat with them.

But you had thought they were getting dinner with Akaashi tonight.

It’s not often you find yourself speechless, but right now, it’s difficult to come up with the right words to explain why you’re splayed out atop your mattress, fondling your tits and fingering yourself while moaning two of your best friends’ names.

Your vibrator chooses that moment to hum back to life for a few seconds, menacingly buzzing on the ground near Kuroo’s feet before dying another spectacular death on your shaggy orange area rug, the purple silicone sticking out like some missile of shame.

Bokuto blinks once, twice, three times, glancing from you, to the vibrator, to Kuroo, and back to you again. And seeing him speechless makes this a million times worse somehow.

It’s Kuroo who eventually interrupts the deafening silence in the room, clearing his throat. “Need some help?”

He—what?

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” you reply.

Bokuto shrugs, “It’s only weird if we make it weird, right?”

—

It’s too much for your brain to process—how natural it feels to lie between the two of them on your bed, Bokuto’s lips pressing softly against the hinge of your jaw as Kuroo’s nose trails down the side of your neck. Bokuto’s ankle hooked over yours, Kuroo’s fingers trailing soft circles into the ditch of your elbow.

“Are you guys sure—” you begin to ask, one foot still metaphorically standing outside of this moment in disbelief.

“You always take care of us when we have bad days,” Bokuto says.

“Yeah, by like, baking cookies or letting you put on a shitty action movie!”

Kuroo laughs, and the sound is like a livewire down your skin as his hot breath hits your collarbone. “Have you thought about this before?”

You turn your head to look at him, immediately regretting it when you find his head is now level with yours, your noses brushing together. “I plead the fifth.”

He traces the shape of your bottom lip, humming under his breath. “I know what you look like when you’re lying.”

You groan, covering your eyes as you look up at the ceiling. “It’s not too late to pretend this never happened.”

“Don’t think I could forget this if I tried,” Bokuto murmurs, hand trailing down your side, fingertips brushing against the exposed skin between your top and panties, and you shudder.

Well, fuck it—

“Okay, then should we—”

You attempt to sit up on your elbows, but Kuroo stops you. “We’ll talk about it if we’re going to do anything else. But right now, just let us take care of you.”

It’s suddenly too hot in your small bedroom, too stifling even for the thin little tank top and panties you’re wearing. All you can do is nod once in understanding, tongue briefly running over your bottom lip before you let out a little huff of air.

Kuroo seems distracted by the small action, staring at you for a beat too long before he shakes himself out of his stupor. “Now just relax for us.”

It’s difficult to fully relax when your entire body feels strung up in the cross-section of a livewire, your nerves humming with anticipation. But you do your best, eyes falling shut as Bokuto’s hand comes up to cup one of your breasts through your tank top.

“I hate when you walk out into the kitchen wearing this when I’m about to leave for practice in the morning,” he murmurs, finger stroking your pebbled nipple through the fabric. “These are always so hard.”

He leans in and gently runs his teeth over your nipple, and you fucking whine at the way it feels through the fabric.

“Bo—” you exhale.

Bokuto begins to mouth at your tit, sucking it through the silky material, the light color quickly darkening with the stain of his saliva. On your other side, Kuroo groans, hooking a finger in the thin strap and tugging it down to expose the swell of your other breast to him while Bokuto continues to messily soak through your top.

“Always knew these would be the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen,” Kuroo breathes out, leaning in to suck on your hard, sensitive nipple.

It sounds so fucking lewd—both of your best friends eagerly sucking on your tits, groaning and panting as you writhe and whine beneath their touch. You can’t help but spread your legs open, reaching down between them to relieve the dizzying pressure between your thighs.

“Hey now,” Bokuto says, lifting his head. “That’s our job.”

Kuroo stops as well, glancing down at the hand currently slipping beneath your panties. He tilts your chin to face him and holds your gaze as he reaches down, threading your fingers together and pulling your hand away.

Bokuto takes over, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches into your underwear, cupping your slick, hot mound, and he lets out a rough exhale of appreciation.

“Fuck, you’re wet.”

Kuroo’s lips ghost over yours, and he breathes out, “Tell me how wet she is.”

There’s a searing hot somersault in your chest, a fresh gush of arousal leaking from your folds at the underlying, rough tremble in Kuroo’s words.

“Fucking soaked,” Bokuto marvels, teeth gently biting down into the skin against your collarbone as he runs one thick digit down your slit, circling your quivering entrance. “Holy shit.”

Kuroo kisses you, the press and slide of his lips over yours both soft and hungry at the same time, tongue quickly slipping past the seam of your mouth to deepen it and swallow down your breathy moans as Bokuto slips a finger inside of you. He pushes down your tank top enough to let both of your tits spill free, hands roaming across them, squeezing and teasing your nipples while he licks his way into your mouth.

Bokuto drags his lips up the side of your neck, stopping to mouth and suck at the sensitive spot just below your earlobe, and you gasp, chest heaving when he bites down just as he slips another finger into your cunt.

“You sound so pretty for us,” he rasps, laving over the spot with his tongue before his mouth traverses its way along the curve of your jaw.

You’re not sure if you’re kissing Kuroo anymore or just moaning into his mouth while Bokuto’s fingers plunge in and out of your pussy, your entire body wracked with tremors of pleasure. Kuroo takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down and sucking as you gasp for air.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs.

And then he’s turning your chin toward Bokuto, whose lips slide across the messy, spit-soaked mess Kuroo left behind, kissing you hard as the latter pulls away from you, the mattress creaking with his movement.

You feel your panties being pulled off as Bokuto’s tongue wraps around yours, his hand leaving your dripping cunt to cup the side of your neck, thumb stroking the underside of your jaw. Kuroo settles between your legs, pushing your thighs further apart, and you can hear him curse under his breath as he marvels at the way your arousal has soaked into the sheets below.

The moment you feel the press of his tongue against your soaked folds, you’re fucking gone.

Hands grasping the soft, fleshy globes of your ass, Kuroo laps at your wet cunt with a fervor that you’ve never known. He switches between firm, broad strokes of his tongue and sharp, pointed licks, groaning all the while.

One of his fingers slips into your tight entrance as he mouths at your throbbing clit, and there’s a rumble of amusement in Bokuto’s chest as you choke out a sob against the soft, warm pressure of his lips.

Bokuto drunkenly changed Kuroo’s contact name in your phone at a party once to ‘PUSSY EATING KING!’, laughing about it profusely when you woke up the next morning and chucked your phone at both of their hung over, passed out forms on the couch.

—and, well.

Maybe he was on to something.

Kuroo pumps two fingers in and out of your hole as he mouths at your folds, making an even bigger, wetter mess between your legs, arousal and saliva dripping everywhere. You weakly try to press up into him, limbs trembling with your rapidly mounting pleasure, and Bokuto’s hand grips your waist as he murmurs against your lips, “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you exhale, nearly sob. “Fuck yes.”

You can hear a faint chuckle of amusement as Kuroo’s fingers slip out of you, your breath hitching in your throat when he spreads your folds and begins outright tongue-fucking your cunt.

Then he plunges one thick digit back in, letting it curl as he strokes your inner walls. The blinding, white-hot pleasure of your climax slams into you, the tight coil in your abdomen rapidly unraveling as clear liquid sprays out of your pussy. You moan, broken and loud as you squirt and come all over Kuroo’s face, and he groans in satisfaction, continuing to lick and mouth at your cunt until you’re trembling and whimpering from the overstimulation.

“Holy shit,” Bokuto whispers, staring down at Kuroo’s panting, wet face.

“Holy shit,” Kuroo nods, collapsing sideways onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

The three of you are quiet for a few moments, the only sounds in the room your labored breathing until Bokuto breaks the silence.

“So…do you feel better?”

Sitting up slightly, you glance between the two of them, at the thick, long outline of Kuroo’s hard cock straining against his gray sweatpants and the dark stain of precum, at the tented erection at the front of Bokuto’s shorts.

“I think I could use a little more help...just to be safe."

spicy sleepover masterlist

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #dee writes #spicy sleepover weekend

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thegnomelord · 10 months

Note

#23 with male reader and soap. After a mission m!reader helps him clean himself in the shower maybe because soap got injured on the field or just really sore. And he washes off the blood/dust/dirt and helps dry him off and it turns into something kinda fluffy. I just wanna play with this man's stupid mohawk so bad.

Honestly me too, I just see that strip of hair and get the urge to tug on it, completely forgetting the man's fictional 😅 Ended up writing washing his hair and showering together because hyperfixation lol Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Washing their hair

CW: NSFW but no sex, non sexual nudity, M reader, showering together, hair washing, just fluffy fluffy fluff.

As much as you care about Soap, you've got to admit he's a bit of a dumbass, a reckless dumbass to boot. You tell him to be careful and what does he do? End up falling out of a second story window and rolling down a good 60 feet down a muddy hill while chasing after a target. You hear him swear the entire way down from where you're tucked away safely behind the sight of your sniper rifle.

By the time you get back to base Johnny feels as miserable as he looks, covered in so much mud you can't see his skin and his entire back wreathed in dull throbbing pain, not to mention the numerous cuts and scraps. And that's on top of Price chewing him out about safety and Ghost and Gaz teasing him the entire flight back to base.

"Not a word lad," He growls, giving you the stink eye. "Price already yapped me ear off." Soap turns to his heel in an attempt to head to the communal showers, biting his lip to stop himself from swearing out god, king, and country when his muscles scream at him.

"Wasn't going to." You stop him, one firm hand tugging on his bulletproof vest so you don't jostle him too much, though even that has drops of mud splashing on your clothes. "Come on, you can shower in my room."

He looks at you skeptically, but it doesn't take much to sway his mind when you offer him simple comforts; privacy, warm hands to wash away the days pains, a warmer body to remind him he's alive. He follows you without a word, neither one of you caring about the mud you track— tomorrow's problems.

"Foooock." The groan comes deep from his bones, perfectly encapsulating all he feels as you methodically unclip his gear, taking the world's weight off his shoulders and dropping it haphazardly on the bathroom's tiled floor. "Feel like a fockin' hog," He frowns.

"Look like you rolled in a pig sty." You helpfully supplement, receiving a few words in Gaelic which you don't even attempt to understand, though the humor in his tone is crystal clear even when you take hold of the bottom of his shirt; the mud and grime had gone through every layer of clothing, leaving not a single inch of skin clean.

He attempts to raise his arms to help you, only to suddenly yell out a "Oh ye fockin' cunt!" when pain flares from his shoulder down the entire length of his spine. You swear you hear his spine crack at least a dozen times by the time you pull his shirt off his mud wet skin.

"You sound like an old geezer." You chuckle to lighten the mood, dropping to your knees to untie his shoelaces and take off his boots, then the rest of his clothes.

"Says the bloke who's left knee tells the weather." He bites back, a bit of teeth on display as he grimaces, another few curses leaving his lips when he has to lower his arm. "Or tries to, yer got as much accuracy as the bloody reporters on the telly."

"Starting to complain like one too," You add, not at all surprised when Soap proceeds to brush his muddy hand across your face. "Of you fucker," Your words gain a childish little giggle from him, and he lets you guide him into the shower.

Your bathroom's one of the few that has a tub in it —a relic of past tenants before the army remodeled the base into an actual military installation— you had to bribe Price with a lot of high quality cigars to get it, but every penny was worth it. There's a tap as well as a detachable showerhead up top that Johnny eagerly uses, turning the water hot and just standing under the stream while you disrobe.

The clean water turns muddy the second it hits his skin, brown muck swirling around your feet as you step into the tub behind him. "How's that sweetheart?" You ask, taking the soap bottle and squirting a heavy amount onto your hands, not bothering with a sponge and instead using your fingers to wash away the dirt on his skin.

"Heaven." Johnny sighs, his muscles fluttering beneath your hands, mud and blood washing away to reveal deep blooming bruises across his back. "Shite, that hits the spot." He leans against you, the slow but firm pressure of your fingers massaging the sore muscles around the blotchy bruises making him groan. You lean in to place gentle kisses on the darkest bruises, "So good fer me bonnie," he hums, using his arms the best he can to at least wash the mud off his face.

You two float in a sort of mindless space where nothing outside the shower matters, the sound of water running and Soap's occasional groan filling your ears, all your focus on the way your hands rub him down; from shoulders to his back, down to his feet and then back up to his face when he turns around.

Once the water runs clear again you turn off the shower and start the tap so the tub fills with enough water to keep him warm, maneuvering him to sit in the tub while you step out to dry yourself off and put on boxers.

"Don't need ta be pampered like a show mutt," He grumbles, the hot water easing the soreness in his frame and making his exhaustion prominent, Johnny's eyelids starting to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake.

"I know, but you hair's a damn crow's nest." You snort, running your fingers through the mess on his head and showing the gunk stuck on your fingers, hell, you even pull a damn twig out.

His eyes widen, "Well fock me," Soap grimaces, gives a bone deep sigh as you settle behind him, sitting partially on the tub. Cupping water in your palms you rub your fingers down the length of his mohawk, loosening the dirt sticking to the strands until rivulets of watery mud run down his neck.

"Maybe later." You both chuckle, squirting the shampoo Soap always loves to smell on you in your hand and lathering your palms up before bringing them back to his hair. Soap mumbles something, leaning his head into your hands whenever you scratch a particularly itchy spot on his scalp.

His head tips back as much as his aching shoulders let him, his eyes settling on your face. I got it made, he thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep his eyelids open so he can see how you focus on even a simple task like washing his hair. Every brush of your fingers across his dirty strands fills his chest with lingering warmth, every scratch of your nails across his scalp making his eyes droop just a bit more.

Johnny doesn't even notice the slight sting when you occasionally tug on a knot, your touch making his mind buzz pleasantly like the low background static of a TV on late nights, and Soap doesn't realize he's dosing off.

You notice how he leans against your leg, leaning over to see his eyes closed and chest steadily rising and falling. You let him sleep for a bit while you finish up cleaning his hair and then use the detachable shower head to wash the bubbly shampoo off.

"What is'it?" He mumbles when you gently shake him awake, eyelids fluttering open and shut.

"Need you to get up Johnny." You hum and it's laughable how easily he follows your instructions, needing a bit of help to stand up when his back still aches like hell, a shiver racing down his spine as the cold air of your bathroom nips at his skin. "Fock, do'ah look like a snowman?" He grumbles at the cold.

You chuckle instead of saying anything, silencing any other complaints with sweet kisses on his lips as you towel him dry.

Soon after you two are huddled under the covers, his body draped over yours and using your chest as a pillow. Your fingers card through his slightly damp hair, the soft brown strands like feathers against your skin and your touch making him sigh and melt against you.

"Hey lad?" He suddenly says, voice a gentle whisper; like he's about to reveal a secret kept from the world — something only meant for you.

"Yeah Johnny?" You ask, a few stars reflecting in his blue eyes from your window.

Your heart melts at the soft and goody smile he gives you, "Love you." he says, leaning his head into your hand that's in his hair.

You smile and lean your head to kiss him, "Love you too," You mutter against his lips, and when you pull away he's already drifted off to sleep like a babe, soft breath tickling your skin and arms possessively wrapped around your waist like you'll disappear.

But you catch the way he smiles in his sleep.

#Gnome's prompt game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #top male reader #male reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #sub character #sub john soap mactavish #fluff #so much fluff

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pimosworld · 3 months

Text

Secret Springs Resort

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!plus size reader

CW-18+, MDNI, Angst,hurt/comfort, mentions of body insecurity, mentions of food insecurity, mentions of smut, Joel being so supportive, reader hiding her feelings at first but we always end with fluffiness. Dream vacation Joel vibes.

WC-1.2k

A/N- I decided to go with a different direction for this weeks theme at the Resort for the Secret springs challenge by our mayor @secretelephanttattoo. I love this idea, it was so fun to write despite the angst, it’s just in my nature to make you feel a little.

[Series Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Indulgence

If you thought he didn’t notice the first night then you had seriously underestimated the man that was Joel Miller.

The man that had turned your world upside down the moment he stepped foot into your kitchen that he would soon remodel. The kitchen that you got to enjoy for just shy of a year after it was completed before selling your home and moving in with him. The newly remodeled kitchen being the major selling point. The smug look on his face when you got well over the asking price. The look that you so often indulged in wiping off his face when you had him writhing beneath you. This burly, breadth of a man that made you believe in love again.

He most certainly noticed on the first night of your vacation. The one you had both worked so hard for.

Secret Springs Resort

An all inclusive beach resort vacation that he had meticulously planned down to the minute. Even the daily naps were planned because he knew how you could get bratty when you were tired.

It pained him the way you picked at your food and shuffled it around the plate as if he wouldn’t notice.

The way you squint your eyes in fake pleasure to signal that you enjoyed the bite.

The look he so often noticed at home during a meal or out to dinner but he so foolishly thought you would be care free while in this oceanic oasis.

The second night.

When you blamed the sun burn and your headache as to why you couldn’t eat much more than a few bites. The way your eyes watered when he moaned eating his steak and you stared longingly at the buttery garlic noodles that you wanted to dive headfirst into.

You said you were too full for dessert and yet Joel knew you better than that. A small sliver of hope when he let you feed him some ice cream, but his hopes quickly squashed when you had one bite and pushed it away.

The third day was your day to relax. No excursions planned and the weather far too hot to lay on the beach. Joel opted to lay among the sheets with you for most of the morning. His head resting between your plush thighs as you played with his thick curls.

The way it always started out so innocent and yet he could have you falling apart beneath him in minutes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s seen you this entire trip, and even if he dies for lack of oxygen he’ll never come up for air if it means seeing you like this.

It’s why he opts to spend the entire day taking full advantage of the luxury suite. Finding different ways to bend you over every surface of this room…the balcony, the couch, the bathroom sink. The shower steams until the mirror fogs over. Fucking and laughing until he thinks he may have pulled a muscle. The way you call him an old man in jest because he knows he could outlast you any day.

It’s why as he watches you sleep, your soft curves peeking out beneath the rumpled covers as the sun sets over the water he decides you’ll just complete the day inside. A quick call to room service and the woman on the other line doesn’t balk when he nearly orders everything on the menu. All your favorites so there’s no room for argument. In the safety of your private room, away from prying eyes so he can finally put a stop to whatever is holding you back.

It’s the smell that first wakes you first. In the quiet comfort of the sheets you get the hint of the savory aroma of fresh baked pizza and garlic bread. Your stomach growling and heart warming at the familiar smells that fill the air. You blink sleepily as your gaze falls on Joel, shirtless with his jeans hung low on his hips as he bustles around the room. Plates and silverware clinking as he sets up a small table on the balcony.

He turns with a gentle smile as he hears you rustling in the sheets. “Hey there, sleepyhead. I hope you’re hungry.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the spread. A large pizza with all your favorite toppings. One half with pineapple because Joel thought it was blasphemy. A steaming bowl of pasta with Parmesan cheese and marinara sauce. Golden slices of garlic bread arranged neatly on the side.

Your throat constricts with the unexpected sensation of gratitude and anxiety.

“You…you didn’t have to do all this.” You murmur, feeling a rush of vulnerability.

Joel strides over to you on the bed, draping the silky resort robe around your shoulders. “I know.” He says softly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “But I wanted to darlin’. Ya deserve to enjoy all your favorites without feeling self conscious.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him. Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, at the way he surprised you everyday. “Thank you.” You whisper, with a slight tremble. “It means a lot to me.”

He didn’t expect you to bend so easily, yet he’s relieved all the same. A sense of pride blooming in his chest as you sit together on the balcony sharing bites of pizza and stories about your past. Things you want for your future, some things he’s heard and some things he’ll pocket for later.

He can tell as the meal goes on and you relax that you want to say it. To tell him why you’re this way, but he already knows it’s him. The reason he had to break down so many walls. The man whose name is rarely mentioned in your home because anytime it is Joel wants to find a way to make him a missing person.

When he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars as he twirls the pasta on the plate and holds it out for you, like an olive branch to open up.

You start tentatively to explain your past insecurities. How your ex made you feel ashamed for enjoying food. How he always made sure you knew to eat less than him.

“I always felt like I had to justify why I ate.” You say quietly as you sip your water. “But you…you make me feel comfortable just being myself.”

Joel reached across the table to take your hand, placing a kiss to your palm. “You don’t ever have to justify anything with me baby.” He says earnestly. “I want you to be happy and feel good about yourself. You should cuz you’re fuckin perfect.”

You smiled gratefully as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. You knew with Joel beside you, you could let go of old hurts and embrace moments like this. Where kindness, understanding and a simple meal could say so much more than words could express.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#joel miller fanfic #secretsprings #secret springs resort #secretelephanttattoo #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters #tlouau #tlou imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x plus size reader #pedro pascal #vacation!joel

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.

Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.

He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.

Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.

Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”

“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”

That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.

“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”

“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”

________

Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.

He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.

As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.

His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.

Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.

“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.

Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.

“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.

Fuck.

________

Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.

It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.

You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.

He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.

“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.

“Sure,” he finally says.

_______

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.

You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.

Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”

“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”

“Pediatrician. I love kids.”

Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.

He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”

“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”

“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”

Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.

________

It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.

But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.

So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.

Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.

He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.

One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.

Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.

His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.

You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.

He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.

_______

You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.

He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.

You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.

You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.

He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”

Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”

“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.

“Please, Joel?”

That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.

“Fine.”

________

This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.

You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.

“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”

He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.

“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.

You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.

“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.

“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.

“You can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”

“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”

“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”

His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.

Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.

Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.

You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.

“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.

He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.

You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.

It’s still not nearly enough.

He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.

Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.

“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.

“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”

“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.

“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.

You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”

He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”

He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.

“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”

He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.

“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.

_______

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.

You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.

You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.

You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.

Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.

“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”

You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.

“Wait, let me—“

“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”

You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”

“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”

You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.

————

Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.

He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.

He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.

Fuck.

#joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel is daddy #age difference #no minors allowed #no outbreak #tlou

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