Tumgik
#she asks me why I’m in the laundry room
whorenerdking · 2 years
Text
boy oh boy do I love immediately getting shit on the second she gets home :)
3 notes · View notes
milo-is-rambling · 9 months
Text
Me vs outlining a perfect plan for my day in my head which I can be the only one allowed to change the schedule vs my mom asking me to do 2 simple tasks
Tumblr media
#she was like hey can you take the trash out I was like ughhhh okay yeah give me a min (I was still ordering weed)#my mom less than a minute later : hey if you want to break down all the cardboard out there I’d appreciate it Me: actually I’d rather not I#was about to shower right after I put this weed order in#then she gets all pissed at me bc I never do what she asks and blah blah blah blah blah#like. girl. I know she can’t see in my brain but I was not awake last night watching cleaning videos and psyching myself up for a day full#of cleaning my room and showering and doing laundry and cleaning funks cage and doobs cage and making my bed and dusting my ceiling fan and#taking apart my box fan to clean it and cleaning the water pitcher in the fridge and deep cleaning#like GAH I HAVE SO MANY PLANS TODAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DO NOTHING AND JUST SIT ON MY ASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP#ripping my hair out and screaming banging my fists on the floor#I literally was like yeah I’ll take the trash out no I will not break down boxes right now and she went off on a whole fucking thing like#just shut up.#I hate it. why do I make plans in my head of the exact order I have to do things and if one person suggest doing anything differently or#pushing my schedule back further than I wanted to myself I get so annoyed I explode into a ball of flames#I wanted to shower dry off pick up weed let out funk refill the humidifier clean the bathroom mirrors throw sort and clean the bathroom#shelves sweep start a load of laundry clean off my desk which means cleaning and organizing my closet or my desk dresser thing to fit the#crap on my desk and I have to clean and reorganize the space next to my desk so I can fit my boombox there bc the humidifier took its place#next to funk and like I want to just cry why does everything have to be so fucking difficult for me why is everything simple for everyone#else and for me every simple task is composed of one million baby tasks that I have to do in the correct order forever or everyone around m#will think I’m stupid and dumb forever like WHAT THE HELL WHY IS IT SO EASY FOR EVERYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST DO THING#IN WHATEVER ORDER AND IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT DO YOU MEAN A 20 MINUTE SETBACK DOESNT COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR DAY#AHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT#BUT INSTEAD. I WILL GO TAKE THE TRASH OUT. AND NOT BREAK DOWN THE CARDBOARD BC THAT MEANS GETTING MY KNIFE AND MY HEADPHONES AND PUTTING MO#CLOTHES ON WHICH IS COUNTERINTUITIVE#TO THE WHOLE ABOUT TO TAKE A SHOWER THING#UGHHHHHHH#I am the worst human on the planet and I deserve infinite suffering#fuck this whole thing I’m pissed I’m gonna listen to music and rage clean after I pick up weed and shower
2 notes · View notes
fingertipsmp3 · 11 months
Text
Just when things can’t get any worse you end up in a meeting that could’ve been an email
0 notes
ri-notafan · 1 year
Text
Yes, you may have gotten what you wanted
But that doesn’t mean you aren’t still an asshole
0 notes
ragingbookdragon · 7 months
Text
Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”
“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”
He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”
“Seriously?”
“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.
She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”
“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”
Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”
“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”
“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”
As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”
“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”
“You know you’ll get sick from this.”
“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”
“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.
He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.
“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”
“You moved the other towels.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”
“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”
She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.
He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”
“You left me.”
“I know.”
“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.
“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”
Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”
“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”
“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”
“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”
Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”
She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”
He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”
“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”
Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”
“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”
He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”
“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”
“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”
Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.
“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”
Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”
She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.
“Couch, Riley.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.
“Goodnight, Simon.”
He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.
It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”
Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”
“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.
“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.
“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.
He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.
“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”
Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”
“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”
His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”
“Yeah?”
His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”
She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”
“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”
“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
4K notes · View notes
rafecameroninterlude · 4 months
Note
rafe + breeding kink
Tumblr media
warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie
a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol
“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.
“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.
“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.
“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”
rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.
you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.
“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.
he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.
“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.
rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.
you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.
you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.
“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.
“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.
with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.
burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.
you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.
“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.
rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.
“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.
you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”
2K notes · View notes
vampiefemme · 9 months
Text
guys i hate to say it but i need bestfriend!ellie, who steals ur panties to get off... i need her like air!!! 18+ below, mdni!
Tumblr media
you’re searching for a lighter in ellie’s nightstand when you notice a flash of pink lace. interest piqued, you tug the fabric out from under a book and some pens, eyes widening when you realize what it is - underwear. your underwear.
you’d lost this pair forever ago and had just assumed it got lost in the dryer, like a mismatched sock. your breath catches in your throat as you imagine ellie in your bedroom, waiting for you to turn away so she could grab these from your laundry basket. heat pools in your gut. what else had she done with these?
“did you find it?” ellie asks as she strides back into the room, having left to grab her bong from the living room. her expression falls when you turn around, the pink thong dangling from your fingertips.
you watch ellie’s cheeks flush bright red, her throat bobbing with a gulp. “i—um, that’s weird. whose are those?”
you almost laugh at her poor attempt to play it cool. your lips pull into a knowing smile, and you take a few steps closer to ellie. she’s like a deer in headlights.
“you know,” you say, getting even closer - so close you can smell the cologne ellie wears. it smells like a bonfire. “i always wondered where these went.”
she just blinks at you. “they’re yours?”
“don’t play dumb,” you tell her. she can barely look at you - the expression on her face reads as utterly mortified.
“i’m not mad, baby.” you reach out and grab the bong from ellie, bringing it to the nightstand and returning to your place in front of her. the pet name makes ellie turn an even brighter shade of red - it’s so fucking cute.
“but i did miss this pair of panties,” you sigh. “you’re gonna have to make it up to me.”
“i’m sorry,” ellie blurts, “i’m so fucking sorry, i know it’s weird and creepy and wrong, but i just—i don’t know, i—”
“why don’t you show me?” you interrupt, one hand still holding the pink thong, your other hand trailing up ellie’s side.
“show me what you did with these, hm?”
you lean in close, that bonfire-like cologne heady and intoxicating. your lips brush against ellie’s, but you don’t kiss her. “please?”
and that’s how you end up sprawled on ellie’s mattress, watching as she pumps her fingers into her wet cunt, her other hand gripping the pair of lace panties.
“fuck,” ellie hisses, sweat-drenched locks of hair clinging to her forehead and temples. she moans your name and your blood runs hot; it’s like fire in your veins. how long had she done this? how many times had she plunged her fingers knuckle-deep in her own cunt, moaning your name like a pornstar?
you squeeze your thighs together, wetness pooling at your center. ellie’s close, you can tell - she’s going faster, panting harder, the wet sounds of her fingers moving through her pussy enough to drive you crazy. when she comes, it’s with a strangled groan, her hand stalling between her legs as she writhes and twitches, hips jolting. it’s a pretty picture, ellie fucked-out from her own fingers.
but you’re not done with her yet.
you sit up on your knees, catching ellie’s gaze as she fights to catch her breath. she watches you carefully remove your shirt, then your bra, your tits supple and round, nipples pebbled. you keep your skirt on, but you reach beneath it to grab the waistband of your panties. you’re wearing another thong, this one black, and when you pull it down your hips and off, you give ellie the kind of look that makes her blush all over again.
“here, els,” you coo, crawling over to her and moving up to straddle her waist. “you need this to keep you quiet.”
ellie just nods, nostrils flaring with every exhale as you push your thumb between her lips, encouraging her to open her jaw. the thong fits almost perfectly inside her open mouth, and the sight of her like that, your thong like a gag to keep her silent, makes your clit throb, your cunt absolutely soaked.
you ride her like that, your pussy wet against hers, her leftover cum spread between your folds, and god you can’t believe you haven’t done this sooner. you roll your hips down and cry out at the feeling of ellie’s cunt smearing against your own, the wet sounds completely obscene.
ellie’s moans and grunts are muffled by the thong in her mouth, her hands gripping your hips, fingernails leaving little crescent moon-shaped marks in your skin. it’s messy and sweaty and desperate, the way you ride her in search of your own pleasure. a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your skin and ellie thinks you look like an angel - but this? this is far from angelic.
ellie uses her grip on your hips to push and pull you along, dragging your cunt over hers faster, faster. you’re both on the very edge, bodies desperate for release, and when you finally come, it’s with a strangled cry of ellie’s name. she comes not long after. her eyes roll back into her skull and you swear she’s going to leave bruises on your hips. the idea thrills you.
finally, you pull the fabric from ellie’s mouth, tossing it beside you on the bed. you lean in close to her, and she smooths a hand over the small of your back. your lips brush over hers again, and this time, ellie pulls you in for a kiss.
you let her keep both pairs of panties.
2K notes · View notes
strang3lov3 · 1 year
Text
For Science
Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining
W/C: 4k
A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!
btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3
masterlist
as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation
Tumblr media
Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.
Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony. 
“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea. 
“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”
You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears. 
“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers. 
The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now. 
You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you. 
“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry. 
Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.
He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”
“You really don’t have to, Joel,”
He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,” 
You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him. 
You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.
Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.
He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent. 
Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all. 
“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”
“I did, yeah,” Joel responds. 
Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”
Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”
Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”
Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer. 
“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”
“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”
“No, I don’t, unfortunately,” 
Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”
“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says. 
Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”
“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”
Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”
“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”
“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”
Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.
Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.
He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says. 
In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away. 
“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood. 
“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”
No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve. 
Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him. 
Maybe…
“Joel?” you call out. 
“What’s up, honey?” 
“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”
Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand.  He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine. 
A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper. 
“What hurts? Where?”
“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this. 
Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.
“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.
“Try me,”
You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?” 
Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts. 
“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”
“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends. 
“You’re too good to me,” you mumble. 
“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.” 
You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves. 
He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly. 
“Mhm,” you mumble. 
And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest. 
“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over. 
It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately. 
Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”
“Just like that, Joel. So good,”
God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers. 
“What?” 
Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”
“Why are you a moron?”
“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”
“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.
Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,” 
“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.
“Cramps?”
“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”
“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”
“With what, then?”
Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller. 
“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell. 
“How?”
“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling. 
“Oh,”
“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles. 
“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”
“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters. 
“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”
Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”
“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”
“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”
Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent. 
You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless. 
You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine. 
He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker. 
You swat his arm lightly. “Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”
“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”
“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth. 
Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch. 
“So pretty like this,” he praises you. 
You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him. 
“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him. 
“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry. 
“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.
Joel smirks.  “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”
You smile back. “For science, right?”
“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too. 
You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans. 
You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth. 
“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”
You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss. 
“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. 
“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”
You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling. 
“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly. 
“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”
Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”
You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious. 
You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,” 
“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”
You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder. 
“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it. 
You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust. 
“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”
“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”
“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-” 
“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”
“Fuck, Joel,” 
“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” 
It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…
“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”
His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,” 
“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”
Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed. 
You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.
“Cramps?” he asks. 
You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”
“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”
You smirk. “For science,”
You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.
tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl
4K notes · View notes
frudoo · 2 months
Note
I really like your writing! I'm so glad I found your page. I was wondering if I could do a drabble or little one shot ask about the 141 boys (poly or individual doesn't matter either way) I just had this idea because there's so many ideas about the boys not thinking they're good enough for their girl but what if it was the opposite way and I was wondering what you'd think their reactions would be.
The idea is that their girl is on the phone with her friend thinking they can't hear her talking (maybe they were asleep or out for a run or something) and her friend asks how things are going with them. Their girl full on gushes about the boys to her friend and her friend is like "oooo sounds like love to me! Have you told them yet?" And their girl is like "I... No of course not...They can't love me, I couldn't possibly expect them to."
This is long but thank you for listening to me ramble!
PLEASE I got so sappy with this one I just couldn't stop my fingers from typing. Also you're such a sweetheart <333
Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt, food, mentions of sex. Fem!Reader. MDNI.
Kyle Garrick:
     Kyle’s had a long day, and the man just wants a proper cup of tea. He starts down the hallway, but when he hears his name coming from your room, he stops dead in his tracks. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but crack your door open to eavesdrop a bit. 
     “I’m telling you, he’s perfect! When I have a bad day, he’ll take me out for coffee, or we’ll go for a walk or just look around the pet store. Sometimes he’ll even do my laundry! It’s- it’s not a crush anymore. I’m in love with him,” you ramble on to your friend, who’s giggling with glee over the speaker of your phone.
     “Well, have you told him?” She questions excitedly, and you go quiet for a moment.
     “Of course I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not… it’s not like he feels the same. I’d just be hurting myself,” you reply sadly.
     Kyle frowns deeply, and he’s almost positive he can physically feel his heart breaking. God, he’d rather fall out of another helo than ever hear you sound so distraught again. He wants nothing more than to barge into your room and pull you into his arms, kiss away all your doubts and prove to you just how much he loves you. Instead, the sound of your voice brings him back to reality. 
     “I think I’m gonna grab a snack. It was good talking to you,” you hang up the phone and open your door, surprised to see your roommate standing right there. “Kyle! Shit, did- did you-? I’m so-”
     “Y’mean it?” Kyle asks softly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.
     Even so, you sheepishly nod your head, unable to meet his eyes. His warm hands cup your face and lift your head up to look at him, and he smiles so warmly that you can’t help but do the same.
     “Silly girl. I love you, too.”
     John Price:
     The base was dead today, barely any paperwork to do or new recruits to train. For the first time in months, John was able to get off on time, and he decided to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite Indian food. When he arrives at your flat, he uses his spare key to unlock the door and steps inside, kicking off his boots—ever since that one time you playfully lectured him on keeping your home clean, he’s engraved the rule into his brain.
     John sets your gifts on the island in your kitchen, glancing around for any signs of where you could be. You’re definitely home, he can tell that much by your keys dangling off the holder and your own shoes by the door. He carefully steps through the hallway and hears your unmistakable voice in the bathroom, along with the quiet sound of running water. He goes to turn the handle but decides against it when he hears his name slip from your lips.
     “God, I love John so much, you don’t understand. He’s everything I could ever want. Every time I see him, I just- I wanna kiss him stupid, y’know? I mean, shit, he’s already seen every part of me since he’s my best friend and all.”
     “So… when are you gonna tell him? It sounds like he’s interested, babe,” your friend’s voice rings through your phone. “Best friends don’t normally just see each other naked.”
     “Oh, stop it. There’s no way he could feel the same. I’m just… I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.”
     John’s heard enough. He trudges back into the kitchen and fixes your plate of takeout, as well as a glass of wine and some chocolates. He arranges the food on a tray and brings it back to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before walking inside. You scream, and normally he would laugh, but he’s so hurt that you think you’re unworthy of his love, and he’s dead set on proving otherwise. 
     “Do you always scare the shit out of people you’re trying to surprise?” You laugh, hand resting on your chest as if it’ll calm your beating heart.
     “Only the one I’m in love with, sweet girl.”
     Simon Riley:
     “M’gonna step out for a smoke, love,” Simon informs you, and you nod politely.
     The coffee shop is a little too crowded for Simon’s liking, and he needs a break. Your company is the sweetest he could ask for, and he feels bad leaving you for even a second, but the demons in his head were begging for an escape. Still, he stands by the window where your table is located just so he can keep an eye on you. Call it a weakness, but when he sees you messaging your friend, he can’t tear his eyes away from the conversation. Thank the heavens for the little slip-up the café made, having the one-way windows installed inside out.
yeah he’s like,,, stupidly perfect
it’s like he’s trying to make me lose it???
like sir i’m already in love with you
what more do you want
lmaooo why haven’t u told him yet????
he’s obviously in love with ur dumb ass too
oh fuck off
you know we’re just friends
don’t give me hope
     Simon frowns deeply, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his boot. He’s spent his whole life in shackles, deeming himself unlovable, unworthy of anything good or sweet or kind. But when he met you, those thoughts dissolved like melting snow—he even took the mask off for you. He didn’t even know it was possible to love somebody so much, so to have the one person he adores more than anything in the world doubt herself? He won’t have it. 
     He reenters the coffee shop in a hurry, long legs striding over to you as quickly as possible. Before you can even react, he leans down to press his lips against yours, hands firmly on your face to keep you still. When he pulls back, he’s near tears looking at your shocked expression.
     “I don’t love y’like a friend. I love y’like a man loves his wife, like you’re the air I breathe. I’ve always been yours, y’hear me? Always.”
     Johnny MacTavish:
     Johnny’s expecting to feel your warm body beside his when he wakes, but instead he’s met with the soft thud of his arm onto the unoccupied sheets where you should be. He frowns and rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone—it’s only 4:00 in the morning, and the sun isn’t even out yet. You’ve obviously not been in bed for a while, and it worries him. Did you leave in the middle of the night, all by yourself? Shit, what if something bad happened to you?
     Johnny hops out of bed and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, starting a frantic search through his house. You’re not in the bathroom, or in any of the spare rooms, not even the sunroom where you love to cozy up and read a book. The last place he thinks to check is the kitchen, and lo and behold, there you are, brewing some coffee and talking on the phone to someone. Your best friend, he realizes, when you put the call on speaker to pour yourself a cup. 
     “It’s just… last night, he told me he loved me, and it- I don’t know. It ruined me. I couldn’t even finish, I had to fake it.”
     Johnny freezes and leans against the door frame. His stomach feels sick suddenly—did he really fuck up that bad last night? God, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he figured there was no better time to confess his feelings for you while he was… well, inside of you. He really thought you felt the same. Your little sniffle drags him out of his thoughts, and his eyes land on your now crying figure once again.
     “N-no, you don’t understand. I know he just said it because of the sex. I’m not… he couldn’t love me. Not the way I love him. We’re just friends who happen to sleep together sometimes. It’s my own fault for catching feelings when he- he deserves someone so much better,” the break in your voice destroys Johnny and all he can do is listen as your best friend calms you down.
     He doesn’t make a move until you’ve hung up. Only after you’ve set the phone down does he come barreling in, wrapping his strong arms around you, ignoring your shriek of surprise. Johnny pulls back to cup your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that managed to slip past your waterline.
“Ye’re the only one ah want. D’ye understand? Ye’re the only one fer me. Ah meant wha’ ah said, hen, ah love ye. There’s no’ a force on this earth tha’ could make me want ye less. Ye’re mine, alreit? As much as ah’m all yers.”
505 notes · View notes
miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
Text
Puppy Love
Tumblr media
Summary: Gabriella wants a puppy! Miguel doesn’t. You convince him. Kinda. Not really. Art: Spinkee on Deviantart (quality is booty but i couldn't find another miguel with a dog hah)
Miguel x Reader, Pure Fluff that’s it.
Tumblr media
“No. No, no, no, ningún perro.” Miguel shakes his head at Gabriella, his eyes glued to the TV screen.
His daughter is on her knees on the floor, looking up at her father on the couch with her hands clasped together. She falls on her back dramatically.
“Pero porque nooooo?!” She whines and Miguel sighs, rubbing his temples with one hand and dragging it down his face. He watches Gabriella complain and pound her fists and feet on the floor.
“Ah-ah-ah! Nada de eso.” He says sternly and Gabriella huffs, sitting back up with her legs crossed. She pouts angrily at him to show her fury but all Miguel sees is his baby girl throwing a tantrum.
“Gabi, mija, you’re not even gonna take care of it. Who’s gonna clean up the poop and pee, huh? It’s gonna be me.”
“Papi, I’ll take good care of it! I promise! Pinky promise!” She whimpers, scooting closer and tugging on his pant leg.
“Dije que no, Gabriella. Deja de chillar.” Miguel doesn’t even look down at her, his stress levels heightened after Gabriella had been asking for a pet dog for weeks now.
Gabriella’s face scrunches up, her tiny features contorting unpleasantly as tears well up in her eyes. “MAMI!” She cries, getting up and stomping away from Miguel in the living room to barge in your room where you were folding her clothes.
Gabriella faceplants in the bed, screams muffled as she flails her limbs wildly in frustration.
You pick up one of her clean shirts and fold it neatly in a growing pile. “What happened this time?” You ask her, taking a quick glance up to see Gabriella had moved her face to the side, cheeks flushed red with anger.
“Papi won’t let us have a puppy.”
“Gabi, my love, a puppy is a big responsibility.” Your daughter groans and flips on her back, watching you do her laundry.
“But, Mami, I'm not a baby anymore! I’m ten years old! Ten! I’ll be so responsible! Tell Papi that he won’t need to do anything!”
Once you’re finished folding, you place a hand on your hip and raise your eyebrow down at her. “Papi said no so we’re not getting a puppy, Gabi. Not now.”
“Mami, please!”
“Take these to your room, my love.” You hand the folded pile to her and she begrudgingly takes it. She hops off the bed and goes into her room where she shuts herself in for the rest of the day.
You meet Miguel in the living room, TV volume lowered of a faint cheer of futbol fans during a game. Curling up on his side, he welcomed you with his arm around you, tucking you closer and getting more comfortable with a heavy sigh.
“Maybe we should get a puppy.” You say, breaking the comfortable silence.
Miguel groans, his head rolling back and you look up at him with amusement. “Not you too.”
“We have the funds! I don’t see why we can’t have a little pet around here to keep Gabi occupied.” You place your hand on his chest, rubbing in little circles.
Miguel’s head tilts towards you. “It’s not the funds I’m worried about. I know as soon as that dog comes in, all Gabi’s gonna do is play with it and I’m stuck cleaning it’s shit.”
“Aw, c’mon, baby. It’s our baby girl we’re talking about. Our princess.” You coax him but he’s firm on his stance.
“No. Dogs and all those animals belong outside. So they’ll stay outside and never in my damn house.” He trains his eyes back on the screen.
“You’re so stingy.” You pout and cuddle up to him, head resting on his shoulder.
“She can get a dog when she moves out which is never.” Miguel grumbles, lips pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
Tumblr media
“Remember: Don’t tell Papi how much we spent.” You remind Gabriella, giving her a pointed look with your index finger over your lips. 
Gabriella beams with happiness, nodding vigorously as she holds a brand new puppy in her arms. A little black pitbull sniffing the air and wagging its tail from left to right, matching the girl’s excitement.
You open the door and Gabriella places the dog down gently. The puppy sniffs the floor and huffs through its nose, getting familiar with its new home. It quickly sneezes and sniffs through everything, half of its body being swung around with its tail. It gives a small yip and its jumps around, wanting to play.
Gabriella is ecstatic! She chases the puppy around, taking toys from a bag and throwing it. “C’mere Princess!”
You slump on the couch, peering in the bag of pet supplies for a baby dog that Miguel would definitely not be happy about.
Gabriella runs around with the puppy for hours before passing out after a day of play. While placing pee pads in the corner of the living room, You hear the door unlock.
Your lovely and blissfully unaware husband hangs his keys in the hook, shrugging off his coat. “Hola, mi amor.” He greets you. 
You welcome him with a hug and a kiss, one he hums in delight. His arms go around your waist and he bends down for another kiss. “How was your day?” You ask him, lips brushing against his.
Miguel sighs. “Fine. Could be…better…” He trails off after hearing unfamiliar footsteps and a bark.
Miguel turns his head to the side to see a little pitbull running up to him and barking, thinking he’s an intruder! Princess circles around him, sniffing and sneezing with her snout, darting this way and that way before looking up at him with a ‘smile’. All she’s really doing is baring her teeth.
Miguel stares blankly at the dog. “You didn’t.”
You grin up at him, wincing. “I did.” You stop him when he groans your name, a lecture on the tip of his tongue. “Princess is already here and Gabi is just so happy.”
“You named it already?” He rolls his head back, hand coming up to cover his eyes in disbelief. He pulls away from you, a pout on his lips. “I’m not taking care of it. You keep that thing away from me.”
“Miguel, now you’re just being dramatic.” You place your hands on your hips. Princess continues to sniff at Miguel’s legs and he shoos her away.
“Mama, listen. I'm not walking or feeding or playing or cleaning it’s shit. That’s for Gabi to do. Whatever it needs, it’s not my problem.”
Miguel kept most of his promise. That was until you went weekly grocery shopping with him on the weekend. While you were finding the meats, you told Miguel to grab the seedless green grapes that Gabriella wanted.
He came back with the grapes and a dogs chew toy. It was a plain bone with ridges around the middle. He tosses it in the cart and hangs by your side. You glance at the toy and then Miguel.
“Why?” You ask. Miguel takes a grape from the box and eats it. Mid-chew, he answers you.
“For the dog. She’s chewing on my shoes.” 
“Uh-huh…” You nod, unconvincingly. Miguel ignores the way you don’t believe him, his hands grabbing the handle of the cart and moving without you. 
The next time is when Miguel comes home from work, dropping his work bag to the floor and tossing his coat on the arm of the couch. He sits with a loud groan, flipping his shoes off. 
The scratches of Princess’s nails scurry down the stairs and rushes towards Miguel, pawing at his pants. 
Miguel leans down and rubs her back a bit before patting her. Princess tumbles to the ground and rolls on her back, huffing while her tongue slips off to the side. “Hey, Princess.” He mutters, patting her over and over again. Princess tries to gnaw on his hand, still growing out her sore canines and Miguel tsks slipping his hand off her. “Okay, okay, ya, ya!” 
Princess rolls back on her stomach, unphased by Miguel’s snapping. She then sits up and jumps so her front paws are on the couch seat and Miguel shoves her paws off. 
“No! Not on the couch! You have a bed!” 
You approach with Miguel’s dinner, him taking the plate from you appreciatively. You then stare down at Princess, her beady black eyes looking between you and the food on Miguel’s plate.
“You just ate, Princess. Go. Bed.” You command and she walks off to her little round fuzzy bed, collapsing on it and rests her head on her paws. She looks between you and Miguel again, her eyes become more and more cute in hopes of some extra food.
“You taught her stuff?” Miguel asks after taking giant bites of your cooking. You sit on a chair by the couch, resting your feet on the coffee table in the middle.
“Me and Gabi.” You hum and turn on the TV to a novela that you and Miguel both liked. 
Miguel grunts. “Quick learner.” He mutters. 
The other time is when you woke up and couldn’t find Princess. You knew Miguel was on his run so she couldn’t have escaped so she must’ve been hiding. But where?
You searched high and low before Gabriella woke up in the morning for playtime. A deep pit of worry in your stomach began to brew, the thought that Princess might’ve escaped somehow. 
While making your own breakfast, you hear the front door open and a loud bark, followed by loud panting. You leave your breakfast, moving over to peek at the front door to see Miguel huffing and puffing and Princess on the ground equally exhausted but her leash around her body. 
“You took Princess?” You ask, placing a hand on your chest in relief. You wouldn’t face a ten year olds tantrum today. 
“I thought Princesa could use an actual workout instead of twenty minute playtime with Gabi and—“ Miguel sighs again, wiping sweat off his forehead and fanning himself with the front of his loose white tank top. “Jesus, she has energy.”
“Princesa?” You ask with a raised brow.
“What?” He sniffs. “It’s still Princess. Don’t be weird.” You put your hands up in defense but he quickly surrounds his sweaty arms around you.
“Ew! No!” You laugh and try to leave him embrace. Miguel pressed a loud obnoxious kiss to your temple. The sound of the kiss making Princess jump up and start barking. She lunges at you both, using her force to push you enough to take a step back. 
She continues to bark and whine, nudging herself between you and Miguel’s legs. Miguel lets go of you which makes Princess jump up as high as possible to Miguel. He leans down and pats her body all around. 
“Alright, alright! I’m gonna shower.” He laughs and leaves another pat to her head before giving you a proper soft kiss to your forehead. 
But what really solidified Princess as an O’Hara was when Gabriella had a mini talent show in front of Miguel.
With one hand she held a treat. Her other hand did commands for the tutu wearing dog.
“Sit!” Gabriella said. Princess followed.
“Spin!” Princess spun.
“Roll over!” Princess stood still.
“Roll over!” Gabriella tried again. Princess tilted her head. Gabriella faces her father. “That one is still a little new.” She frowns but Miguel chuckles. He pats the seat beside him and Gabriella giggles, jumping into his arms.
Princess barks, feeling left out and tries to jump in as well. 
“No, no, no! Bed!” Miguel shakes his head, commanding her while trying to push her off and Gabriella helps her up. 
“Papi! Just let her do this one time!” Princess whines when Gabriella tugs on her front limbs.
“Gabi, no! The couch is gonna smell like dog!” 
Princess lands on the couch, her body having grown a little bit bigger after these few weeks. She places all her weight down on Miguel’s lap, tumbling down to lay down on top of Miguel and Gabriella’s lap. Gabriella tries to move but can’t so she laughs.
“She’s getting heavier!” 
Miguel groans. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” 
Princess tilts her head up, her tongue coming out to lick his neck and face. Miguel stops her. “Eww!” And Gabriella breaks into laughter.
After a while, Miguel stays up watching TV, Gabriella and Princess both asleep in his lap, Gabis arm around Princess. 
You come from outside your shared bedroom and yawn. With your slippers you shuffle into the living room and see all three of them huddled up together. 
“You’re still here?” You ask, another yawn escaping you. 
Miguel looks at you and then his two girls in his arms. “They were so tired.” He mumbles softly.
You sigh and shake your head. He could be soft about his daughter and dog another day. Not in the middle of the night. “No. C’mon. Take Gabriella to bed.”
Tumblr media
A/N: Heavily inspired by my own parents teehee
546 notes · View notes
wandanatrules · 3 months
Note
Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you!  definitely super kinky
Try To Keep Me
hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread
word count: 1.5k
pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader
warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )
You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.
It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.
Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.
You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.
”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were. 
Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.
”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.
”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk. 
“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her. 
“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist. 
“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek. 
“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed. 
Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear. 
“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company. 
“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?” 
“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks. 
She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden. 
Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises. 
“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.
“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace. 
“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.
”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!” 
“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks. 
Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”
“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.
”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk. 
“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.
“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth. 
You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.
440 notes · View notes
lucysarah-c · 4 months
Text
“Then Lauren said—”
“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.
“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.
His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.
Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”
There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”
Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.
“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.
“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”
His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”
“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”
“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.
“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.
She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”
“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”
“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.
Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.
But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”
A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.
“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.
Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”
“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”
Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.
“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”
“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”
Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”
“Daddy issues.”
She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”
“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”
“No, no.”
Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”
“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”
“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”
“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”
“What does that have to do with any of this—”
Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”
Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."
Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”
Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.
“He couldn’t get it up.”
It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!
542 notes · View notes
nats-firefly · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
the bet
sorority!wandanat x reader
summary: tri delta and delta nu have a bet, you get caught in the cross fire
warnings: power bottom!wandanat, choking, smut 18+ only
a/n: repost! they're back
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 2.7 k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
divider source | gif source
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Delta Nu and Tri Delta were known as the rival sororities on campus. Always the two every girl wanted to get into, the two to raise the most funds for whatever cause and the two who were always at each other’s throats. One week, the heads of the two sororities met and made a bet. Celibacy week. The house that broke first would have to give up their summer funding for parties, only relying on future fundraisers for party budget.
Usually, these bets wouldn’t affect you all that much. You even liked them sometimes, Natasha would get especially frustrated when things didn’t go her way and she would always come to her trusty roommate for some… stress relief.
But this bet, this bet sucked. 
Not only was Natasha extremely sexually frustrated and on edge, but you had also found yourself becoming dependant on both Natasha and Wanda for your own stress relief. And now neither of them could come to your aid.
You tried though. And you were persistent. But Natasha is a more determined when she’s pissed off. And there was nothing that pissed her off more than having to share you. She noticed how much you would be on your phone and how you spent more and more time out of the apartment, and how your dirty laundry would have the faint smell Natasha recognized from meetings with Delta Nu.
You snaked your hands onto Natasha’s hips, pressing her between your body and the counter, making sure the outline of the silicone toy between your legs was clearly felt through your sweatpants. Natasha whimpered, her hips subconsciously pressing back against you. She turned around in your hold, her hand coming up to grip your throat and pull you towards her.
You turned her towards the kitchen island, hooking your hands under her thighs and propping her up. Her fingers pressed the sides of your throat and you moaned into her mouth, your lips moving perfectly against each other. She bucked her hips closer to the edge, feeling your cool fingertips sliding up her thigh. 
All of a sudden, Natasha clenched her thighs shut, trapping your hand between her thighs as she pushed you away from her with clenched eyes. Her hand loosened its grip on your throat as your other hand slid down her leg. 
“I can’t let her win this too,” You tilted your head, about to ask her what she meant when she hopped down from the counter, giving you a peck on the cheek before walking into her room. 
You frustratedly closed the door to your room, plopping down on your bed and pulling out your phone, starting to text the only other woman who could tend to your needs at the moment.
it’s just a stupid bet, what’s the big deal? nobody has to know, wanda
You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for the three little dots to appear.
did you forget you live with one of them 
she has a name you know
whatever it is, no. I can’t.
I’ll get rid of her, please?
Wanda tapped her fingertips against her table, biting her lip in concentration. She huffed out a sigh, typing out a half-assed excuse, part of her already thinking of what she’d wear to your place. 
if this fucks up my chances as delta nu president next year i’m holding you personally responsible get rid of her
You got up from your bed, grabbing your wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. You walked to Natasha’s bedroom, knocking on the door before you heard her voice telling you to come in.
“Do you wanna do me a favor?” You asked, scratching the back of your neck as you sat on her bed. She scrolled further down the online store’s website, clicking on a bodycon dress. She hummed, encouraging you to keep talking. “Can you go to the store and grab ice cream?”
“Why do I have to go?”
“Well, you’ve got all this pent up energy you can’t release right? Jog to the store.”
She hummed and stopped scrolling, turning her chair to your direction. You offered her the twenty dollar bill and she snatched it away from your hands. “Fine.”
“Thanks,” You smiled, getting up from her bed and making your way back to your room. Natasha found it odd but didn’t think about it too much. She put on her running shoes and slung a fanny pack over her shoulder before heading out the door, leaving your twenty dollar bill on the counter. 
You heard the front door click shut and quickly texted Wanda.
she’s jogging to the store, you have like twenty minutes to get here
Wanda stood up out of her desk, sliding off her sweatpants and stepping into tight yoga pants. She packed her laptop and notebooks into her bag and walked out the door, grabbing a baseball cap before she left the house. She walked to your apartment and was there ten minute later, trying to ignore the smug smirk on your face as you ushered her into your bedroom.
You closed the door and pushed Wanda against the wooden surface, bringing her lips onto yours. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your lips against hers while her bag slid down her arm to rest gently on the floor. She caught herself when your hands started drifting up her sweater, making her push you back onto your bed. You fell backwards, propping yourself up on your elbows as she straddled your lap. 
“You don’t get to call the shots today,” She gripped your hair and brought your lips back onto hers, her tongue moving against yours in a heated kiss. Your hands came to rest on her ass, making her buck hips into you and fuck, this was a bad idea. 
“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop,” You smirked up at her, making her grip your chin and push you into the bed, rolling her eyes as she got off your lap. 
“I do,” She groaned, standing up again and moving to her back on the floor bringing it to the bed. “I even brought work to do.”
“You never stop, do you?” You asked, as she sat against the headboard, looking at you while she type on her computer and you pulled out your video game controller. 
“If I did, I wouldn’t become president of Delta Nu next year,” She said, the sound her her nails clicking on the keys echoing in your ears.
“Easy there, champ, don’t your sisters have to elect you?” You joked as you clicked away on your controller, eyes glued to the screen on the wall.
“Yeah, but I’m not worried about that,” She said, her eyes drifting to the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your fingers flexed so easily around the controller. It all sent a wave of arousal straight to her core.
Wanda pushed her laptop off her lap, the crawled over to you, pushing your controller aside and straddling your hips once again. 
“Ready to break the rules, Madam President?”
“The rule is I can’t have sex,” She said, bringing her lips onto yours. “Nobody said anything about touching.”
She gripped your wrists and led them under her shirt, making you smirk against her mouth. Her soft moans filled your ears and vibrated through your body, your fingertips pressing harder against the soft skin of her chest. Your lips trailed down her neck, her hands gripping onto your hair as she arched into you. You flipped her over onto the bed, kneeling between her thighs and continuing to kiss down her body.
Wanda moaned as she felt the shape of your strap press against her. Her fingernails dug into your scalp as you sucked on her skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to leave Wanda wanting more. 
Wanda felt her desperation heighten, feeling like maybe, just maybe she would break the bet. Just as she was about to start tugging your shirt up your body, your head picked up, hearing Natasha open the door to the apartment. You looked at Wanda, a smirk tugging on your lips as you kissed up to her ear, softly shushing her.
“We have to be quiet now, angel,” You said, bringing her lips back onto yours. She continued kissing you, her eyes bursting open when the idea popped into her head. If she wanted anything with you tonight, she was gonna have to share you with Natasha. 
But Wanda couldn’t just bring this up, and she wouldn’t be able to wait another day, celibacy week was almost over. She had to act now. And it had to be Natasha’s idea. Wanda started whining against your lips, at first softly, but getting increasingly louder.
Natasha walked through the door, stopping at the fridge to grab a water bottle as she caught her breath. She removed her earphones and moved closer to you door, hearing shuffling and muffled whining from the other side of the door. 
“I’m back from the store,” She called through the door, making you pull away from Wanda and place your hand over the brunette’s mouth.
“Uhmm, you can put the ice cream in the freezer, I’ll get it late-OUCH!” You hissed at the sharp pain on your fingers, turning your gaze back to Wanda who had a grin on her face and she gripped your forearm over her shirt.
“Is everything okay?” Natasha said, walking into your room. She froze at the sight in front if her: Wanda pinned underneath you, one of your hands under her shirt while the other hovered above her mouth. The redhead’s eyebrows raised and a smug grin graced her features. “What do we have here.”
You pulled yourself off Wanda and walked over to Natasha gripping her hips and turning her around, pushing her towards the door. “We didn’t do anything, she didn’t lose the bet.”
Natasha stopped in her movements, all the pent up frustration she jogged off immediately returning. If anyone was gonna tiptoe around the grey area of the bet with you, it was gonna be her. There was no way in hell she would let Wanda have you all to herself. She turned around to face you before her gaze drifted to Wanda, who was still laying on the bed, her gaze completely locked onto Natasha. 
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” She simply said. Natasha’s lips turned upwards, her hands immediately pushing you back into your room. 
“Now we just gotta make sure you keep your mouth shut,” Natasha’s eyes locked onto yours, the back of your legs finally reaching the bed, making you fall back on it. Wanda kneeled next to you, standing over you next to Natasha as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 
“You guys make it seem like you both weren’t practically begging me to fuck you earlier today,” You rolled your eyes, watching the two girls look over you like you were the last meal on Earth. Wanda rolled her eyes, leaning over and gripping your chin.
“Let’s put that mouth to better use,” Wanda shuffled off the bed, sliding her pants down her legs along with her underwear, Natasha quickly following her movements. Wanda was about to climb back onto the bed, but Natasha held her back, making the brunette look at her with a frown.
“I live here, I get to call dibs on her face,” The redhead said, moving her body up to your face. Wanda rolled her eyes, grabbing the hem of your sweatpants and pulling them down your body, revealing her favorite red strap. 
“You tell another living soul about this and you’re moving out,” Natasha lowered her pussy onto your mouth before you had a chance to answer, her hips rolling onto your face as you stuck your tongue out. Natasha’s fingers gripped onto your hair, angling your head back as she bucked her hips onto you. Wanda groaned as she sunk down onto the toy between your legs, you could feel her weight shift on your hips as she bounced on your strap, your hands gripping the back of her knees and pulling her closer.
Wanda moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your stomach as she steadied herself. The stinging sensation made you moan into Natasha, the vibrations moving through her body and making her thighs squeeze around your head. They started off with a terrible pace, the two bucking their hips at the worst moments together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s hips as you pushed your strap deeper into Wanda, briefly halting her movements. Wanda screamed out in pleasure, the tip of the strap pressing against the perfect spot while you rolled Natasha’s hips onto your face, keeping your eyes on her as she contorted her face in pleasure.
Wanda and Natasha settled into the perfect pace, working off each other and making you groan in pleasure every now and then. Natasha pressed down onto your face, her arousal already dripping down your chin. Wanda whined, desperately bucking her hips, trying to reach her high, but not quite getting there. 
“Do you need a little help, sweetheart?” Natasha cooed condescendingly at the brunette, making Wanda more frustrated than she already was. You lifted you chin up, sucking Nat’s clit into your mouth, making her body shudder. Natasha lifted herself off you, before turning around and straddling your face once again. You circled your thumbs onto Wanda’s legs, as she continued moving against you. Natasha gripped her chin and brought their lips together, her hands moving town to Wanda’s chest, tweaking her nipples as you pumped the toy deeper into Wanda.
One of Natasha’s hands moved up to Wanda’s throat, lightly squeezing the sides as she pulled away from the brunette. She moaned, bucking her hips faster against your face as you reached up to her hips and pressed her hips down onto you as you sucked on her clit. “Cum with me, Wanda.”
You felt Wanda’s arousal soak the strap just as Natasha’s hips stilled and her body shook over you, her orgasm washing over her like waves. Wanda brought their lips together once again, both girls using your body to ride out their orgasms, hair clinging to their skin as the caught their breath. 
You licked Natasha clean before she pulled away from your face, letting you sit up and lift Wanda off you. Natasha moved off the bed to look for her underwear, ready to leave like she usually did after the two of you had your time. You leaned Wanda against the headboard, bringing your lips to hers then kissing down her body, the brunette’s hands entangling in your hair as your buried your head between her thighs, carefully running your tongue through her sensitive folds. 
Natasha watched as you cared for Wanda the same way you would care for her, feeling a pang of jealousy course through her at Wanda’s soft laughter as you came up and kissed her cheek. Wanda moved to the side, allowing you to settle agains the headboard before she settled next to you, curling to your side. 
“Uhm,” Natasha felt embarrassed watching, a prominent shade of pink gracing her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “I’ll uh-”
“You can stay if you want,” Wanda said, pulling the blanket on the other side of you down, as you focused you attention on the tv. 
“She’s right,” You said, secretly hoping neither woman noticed how much you desperately hoped she would. 
“Okay,” Natasha leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest as she focused her attention at the tv. You nudged her shoulder, the motioned for her to inch closer, making her roll her eyes but moved closer nonetheless. 
The three of your comfortably watched cartoons and talked for another few hours, not able to keep your hands to each other for most of the time. It was around 2 am when you finally closed your eyes, Natasha laying unconscious curled to your side. Wanda drew patters on your skin with her fingertips, the reflection of the tv glimmer bouncing off your phone catching her attention. She waited another few episodes to make sure you were both asleep before reaching over and snapping a picture before sending it to herself and deleting it off your phone. 
She fell asleep with a smug smirk on her features, thinking she had the upper hand. What she didn’t know was that the following morning Natasha would do the same thing, snapping a picture of Wanda laying naked with you before tiptoeing her way out of your room to get ready for class.
And yeah, they both were still at each other’s throats, but maybe this bet wasn’t so bad after all.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Folding Laundry, Spy x Family mini fic
Decipher the intercepted report. Prepare intel for Handler. Pick up groceries. Loid ran through his seemingly endless list of tasks, calculating each step of execution and strategizing on the most efficient plan of action. But when he set the laundry to fold on the couch, Yor appeared with a smile.
“Let me help with that.”
It would take two minutes and thirty seconds to fold it himself, and he only had three minutes to spare on this mountain of clothes before he had to start on his patient files. But Yor was humming a tune as she started separating the clothes, and, after a moment, he sat down beside her and quietly started folding. 
The afternoon sun streamed in, warm and fuzzy. Bond yawned disinterestedly at them and shuffled into Anya’s room. Sitting so close to Yor, Loid wondered again why she never seemed to wear perfume. 
Focus. Like any operation, Operation Strix could collapse in an instant if he wasn’t vigilant.  There was the slightest tension in Yor’s shoulders, a slight discomfort or unsureness, that he’d noticed before in these very quiet moments. 
“Do you miss your life before this?” He asked, blunt in a way that only a moment like this could allow.
She looked up, surprised. Her eyes drifted to the window as she absently smoothed the creases in Anya’s frock. Loid found his next breath hinged on her answer.
“In an odd way, yes.” 
He knew it. Operation Strix was in danger.  He had to find out more, a way to fix this. He had to keep this fake family happy for the sake of world peace.  
Yor continued on. “After my brother and I came to the city, I was by myself. I kept a small apartment. Just a bed, a kettle, a few clothes. I didn’t go out much, didn’t have friends really.  Yuri would visit, of course, but he was busy with work.” 
Loid tried to picture this life and found a familiar echoing pang. “That sounds lonely.”
Yor shrugged. “It was all I knew. Pain doesn’t feel like pain when it’s all you know. But this?” She looked around, noticing the room and him in the same way he’d done. “This is unfamiliar. And that’s harder.” 
Her eyes widened, and red colored her cheeks. “Not to say that I don’t want this or- or I’m not grateful!” She rushed to explain. “This is arrangement has been the best thing to happen. It’s just…”
“New?” Loid supplied, though it wasn’t quite the right word.
She hurried through the folding, and a moment later, nervously asked, “Do you miss your life before this? I mean- I mean, before Anya and your first wife?”
Loid slowly buttoned the shirt he was folding. He remembered the brutal military camp he infiltrated to get close to an officer. The snooty soirée to seduce the minister’s daughter.  The loud explosions of the battlefield.
“There wasn’t much of a life before,” he admitted.
She nodded gently, and the slight tension in her shoulders eased. And to Loid’s surprise, so in his. They folded the rest of the clothes, taking in the warm sun and noises from the street. 
He gathered his clothes and she took the rest to hers and Anya’s rooms. Putting them away, he ran through his list of things to do again. He’d wasted too much time. He still had to prepare reports and patient files and get dinner. But the buzzing, stomach-turning anxiousness to get everything done had quieted, and that left him nervous and paranoid.
 So when he heard a ruckus, he rushed to Anya’s room, grateful for something to snap him out of this calm. 
Anya had gleefully seized Yor’s interruption to abandon homework and was playing spy with Bond and her toys.
“But Agent Anya, what about your homework mission?” Yor cried in her TV-spy voice. 
“The mission is in trouble! Agent Anya needs hot coca to save the day!” Bond borfed. “And cookies!”
“Okay, if Agent Papa says it’s okay to take a break,” Yor said, turning to him standing in the doorway.
“Agent Papa!” Anya saluted. “Hot cocoa and cookies!” 
Their eyes were shining bright in excitement. Bond wagged his tail. The house wasn’t just warm with the afternoon, but with the joy of this little fake family.
Loid remembered the cold of the military camp sinking deep beneath his clothes, leaving him freezing and sick. He remembered the bitter bile taste of choking back his words when highbrow ministers spewed hateful words.  He could feel the splintery wood of the makeshift cot as he lay at night, waiting for bullets to rain down on them in the morning. 
He put on his best impression of Handler for his waiting family, but he suddenly understood what Yor was talking about. All of his past lives were hard. Terrifying even. 
But not as terrifying as this. 
301 notes · View notes
riordanness · 9 months
Text
sweet nothing - [w.wonka]
Tumblr media
wordcount: 1.1K
warnings: willy freaking wonka’s curls
requested: no
Something about this laundry place was giving me the creeps, but I’m sure if it’s the scary man who’d brought us here, the overly cheery lady with the awful teeth, or the much-too-convenient cheap as chips room.
Willy seems to be completely trusting in these people, though, and I trust him with anything, so I decide to just take it as it comes, and keep my eyes open for anything else strange.
We’re lead upstairs by Bleacher, with Mrs Scrubbit following from behind. She chatters the whole way up, bombarding us with information about the place and our room and how much impact this laundry business has had on the town itself.
Bleacher pushes open a door, and lets us pass. I step inside after Willy, and glance quickly around the simplistic room. It’s pretty, very white, and has little daisies on the wallpaper.
“There you two are,” Mrs Scrubbit says happily. I wonder to myself if her name, or Bleacher’s for that matter, are actually their real names, or if they just made them up for the glamour of it all. They are pretty catchy names.
“Thank you, Mrs Scrubbit,” I say, and Willy chimes in after me.
“Thank you both.”
Mrs Scrubbit, flustered, grins at us both and waves her hand in the air vigorously. “There’s a bar of soap and a washing cloth on the sink, and fresh linens in the cupboard over there.”
I give her a smile, and my worries from earlier are almost forgotten. This place truly is a miracle.
After they leave, and the door has closed, I realise how exhausted I am. I collapse onto the floor, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I let out a sigh. “Who knew one single day could be so busy, huh?”
I can hear Willy dropping his coat to the floor, and laughing quietly to himself. “Yes indeed, y/n.”
I open my eyes to the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and it is only then I notice the most obvious of facts. There is only one bed in this room.
Willy seems to realise this at the same moment I do. “Oh,” he says.
“Oh,” I echo.
There’s a heat beat of silence, then Willy quickly gets to his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”
“What?” I’m almost annoyed. My best friend is my favourite person, and I love him dearly, but he is almost too kind sometimes. Kindness is a virtue, but in Willy, it often hurts himself in the process.
“You take the bed,” Willy repeats.
“Don't be ridiculous,” I say, still on the floor. “It’s a big enough bed for us both. I won’t have the best chocolate maker in the universe sleeping on this cold stone floor. It’s uncomfortable.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re literally sitting on the ground right now.”
I shrug. “Floor time is fun for me. Not for sleeping though. That would be kinda awful.”
Willy smiles softly. “Alright, bean. We can share.”
I have no idea why he calls me that, but I’ve long since given up on asking. He always just grins his wicked little smile and says something like, ‘I’ll tell you one day’.
I close my eyes again, and yawn. “I’m so tired, Will.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I laugh, and open my eyes again. “Sorry not sorry. Help me up.” I hold both my hands out to him.
Willy walks over, rolls his eyes at my antics, and pulls me to my feet.
“Come on,” he says softly, his fingers lingering near my unbrushed, unruly hair. “Let’s get you to bed, bean.”
“Okay,” I mumble, suddenly even sleepier. His quiet tone and gentle touch are pulling me even closer to the darkness of sleep. I let Willy pull off my jacket, and I slide out of my dress, leaving just my petticoat and undergarments on. I crawl under the covers, shimmying as close to the wall as I can to allow room for Willy.
He shrugs off his vest and shoes, switches off the light above us, and climbs in after me, lying as far away as possible on the other side of the bed. I understand the politeness in his gesture, but my tiredness is fogging my brain up, and I want him to be close.
“Willy?” I almost whine.
“Yeah, love?” he whispers.
“Can you hold me?” I mutter, my eyes shut tightly. I barely register his reply, but I do feel his strong arms as they tighten around my waist, and pull me close to him. Then, the darkness takes me.
I wake up slowly the next morning, my senses taking longer than usual to begin working. Smell is first. Chocolate and mint and rain. Then sound. The familiar sound of my best friend’s breathing. Then touch. Warm blankets, warm arms, my cheek pressed against a warm, moving, yet somewhat hard surface. Then, finally, sight.
My eyes clear, and I blink the sleep away, and I’m met with something extremely unexpected, but also very pleasant.
Willy’s sleeping face, only inches from my own, his dark curls spread across his forehead and the pillow we share. His arms are around me, holding me tightly even in his sleep. My head is resting on his chest, which is slowly rising and falling with his gentle breathing.
I myself try not to breathe, not daring to even move. I want nothing more than to extend this moment for as long as possible, maybe even forever.
Willy’s eyes flutter open, and their soft chocolate gaze lands on mine.
He smiles, and I’m almost certain it’s the prettiest thing in the world.
“Good morning, bean.”
“Hi,” I whisper. “You still owe me the reason behind that nickname.”
Willy smiles, his eyes flitting all over my face, as if he’s relishing the closeness between us as much as I am.
“Because,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “You are as important to me as a cocoa bean is to chocolate.”
I let that fact sink in. “Oh,” I manage, my chest filling with all the love I have for this boy beside me.
“What’s wrong?” Willy tilts his head down to look at me properly, concern filling his features.
“Nothing,” I answer. “I just… love you, Willy Wonka. I really love you.”
He smiles again, wider this time. “And I love you, my little cocoa bean.”
1K notes · View notes
hoe4sports · 5 months
Text
Double trouble
Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: Your twins needs new cleats and alexia learns about the increase in cost of living.
Tumblr media
Dinner was soon to be ready, just in time to eat before your twin girls had football practice. They were both on the Barcelona u15’s team, and somehow both of them had a talent. “Mamma!” Your eldest daughter yelled from the down stairs laundry room causing you to mentally sight. She was the messier of the twins; she would probably lose her head if it wasn’t stuck to her body. “Si, mi amor” you said as you walked towards the laundry room. “Mamma, they don’t fit anymore!” She cried as she threw the left cleat towards the corner of the room. “Que? The new one? The pair you got a few months ago, si?” You said as you touched her back to comfort her. “Si, mamma..” she said as she frowned. The girls were definitely in a growth spurt. “Let’s see, Hermosa” you said as you opened up the laces of the shoes and bent down to help her try it on. “AUCH, my toe! It hurts mamma!” She protested as you got the shoe on. She had a talent of being dramatic, as if she belonged on a Spanish telenovela. “Wiggle your toes” you commanded as she sighted and wiggled her toes. It was clear as day, she needed new cleats again. “Alright, Mami is gonna be home any minute now. Let’s all eat and then go to pick up some new ones, si? It’s important that they make you feel comfortable. Go grab your sister and help me set the table, por favor” you said as you stood up and reached your hand out for her to grab. The blonde got up while leaning on to your hand and skipped upstairs to get her sister. The twins were spitting image of Alexia, expect they had icy blue eyes from the donor. You had originally wanted to have kids in two rounds; one with your egg and one with alexia’s egg. However, a pair of twins ended the plan quickly as they were more than enough for the two of you.
Just as you got to the kitchen, Alexia entered the house. “Hola amor” Alexia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells amazing” she said as she hugged you from behind kissing your neck. “Spinach pasta” you said as you leaned into her smiling. You loved your little family, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. The twins bounced down the stairs together and walked into the kitchen. “Mami!” Maya yelled as she hugged alexia. The twins and alexia started setting the table, and you put the pasta in a serving bowl. Alexia grabbed sparkling water and you all sat down at the kitchen table in your designated chairs. “How was school, girls?” Alexia said as she slurped in a spaghetti. “It was bien! I sat with Andrea in class, she’s so nice. Maybe she can sleep over sometime? I also got my test back, I got a B, but I studied really hard” Anya rambled as you all kept on eating. Anya was the more talkative of the girls, often leading the conversation. After a quick chat about her new friend and her good grades, the other twin; Maya spoke up. “Mamma, do we have Bandaids? Or tape?” She said as she shoved her pasta around on her plate. “Si, why? Are you hurt?” You asked as you got a worried grin. “No! No, I’m not hurt. My cleats are just tight and it’s tugging in my heel.” She said as she looked up carefully. Alexia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Already?? Didn’t you ge-“ you smacked her arm. If looks could kill, she would be a dead woman. “Honey, it’s normal. You are growing everyday besides, we are already going to stop by the sports store to grab your sister a new pair so why not see if you find something you like too?” You said as you took a sip of water. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and nodded rapidly. Dinner went on, and you were soon on your way to the store.
“Alright preciousas, here we are” alexia said as she pulled your Lexus suv up in the parking lot of the sports store. The girls quickly hopped out and practically sprinted towards the store in their workout gear. You grabbed alexia’s hand as you walked in and was met by a mountain of cleats. “Oh my” you mumbled as your eyes widened. Having two girls in football wasn’t cheap, especially not when they were starting to work towards playing professionally while both being on the national squad. It meant twice the travel expenses,kits, jerseys, clothes and a shit ton of sports tape and pre wrap. “Mami! I like the pink ones” Anya squealed as she grabbed Alexia’s arm and pulled her towards a bright pair of Nike. Maya was more hesitant and grabbed your hand as you walked around. “What color do you like? Is there a specific brand you want?” You asked softly as her eyes scanned the wall. “I like pink” she said as she looked over at her sister that was busy trying on cleats. “The same as that your sister is trying on, si?” You asked as you walked towards her and alexia. Elena nodded and held close to you. After a few trials and errors both girls had found a pair of bright pink Nike; the same pair to be fair. It wasn’t really a problem, you just needed to mark the inside of the shoe. Not that it would be a problem as Maya was more of a left striker while Anya was a right striker.
At the register, a young woman scanned the boxes and tapped the register. The girls each grabbed the box and immediately disposed the boxes in the trash as they went to the bench in the doorway to put their new cleats on. “And that will be, 559.99 euros m’am” the woman spoke as Alexia was pulling out her wallet. “QUE!?” Alexia said in disbelief. “559.99” the woman repeated as she smiled. “Cash or card?” Alexia stood dumbfounded and looked at the register. “Ai, uh, card” she said as she rubbed her neck. You giggled behind her as this was usually something you would take care of in terms of shopping and her being happy to pay down the credit card every month.
As we walked out the store, the rain has started pouring so Alexia unlocked the car as the girls sprinted towards it to avoid getting soaked. We drove the 5 mins to the arena and said our goodbye’s to the girls before entering the designated room for parents to watch. Alexia grabbed us both coffees on the way into the room, and sat down beside me to watch the girls. Me and one of the other mothers were talking about how crazy the cost of living had become and how groceries had become a huge expense. “Have you even seen the price of eggs! It’s insane, and my daughter eats like a horse.” the woman next to me exclaimed. “Think eggs are expensive? Try having one egg fertilised and it splitting into two.” You said as the whole room giggled while Alexia chocked on her coffee dramatically. “It was your egg Putellas, so you are to blame” you whispered as you winked.
587 notes · View notes