#when i uh garlic

[minervatheslime]

[thecatspasta]

What is the point of having art tags if I never use them?

No clue. Still have them tho. It be like that sometimes.

[kawaiianimeredhead]

In a moods lately

[sir-cookieton]

I learnt today I cannot eat garlic butter

[astralnymphh]

stuff you up ౨ৎ

aestras thanksgiving smut special

' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '

HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2

♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)

♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡

Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy. 

Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes? 

It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.

You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.

A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak. 

Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.

Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.

"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.

"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.

Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"

"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?" 

"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.

"That I did."

"Uh–" Joel bumbles.

Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"

"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.

Hmph.

Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.

A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.

With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"

"Hmm?"

"Els.." 

Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.

Waiting wasn't even on the table. 

Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.

Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.

"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.

"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.

Goddess, her grip is mighty.

Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.

"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.

Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"

"You dickhead." 

"Me, dickhead?"

"Yes, you, dickhead."

"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.

Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.

"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?" 

"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."

Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.

"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"

"It?" you gulp.

"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.

Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?

Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.

"Ellie, what are you on–"

"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.

"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.

Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.

"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.

Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.

A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.." 

"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.

The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.

Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."

"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.

"Fuck, I do all this?"

"Duh."

"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."

She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.

A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.

Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.

"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"

Out of all people, really, Els? 

She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.

"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"

A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.

"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.

"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.

"I mean, d–decent, enough–"

Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.

"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.

You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."

The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.

"Sure it's not good?"

"Mh–mh.."

"Like, really good?"

No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.

Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"

"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.

All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate? 

"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.

"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.

"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.

Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.

Cue her cheek pleating smile.

"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"

"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."

"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.

You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish. 

The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.

Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"

"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."

"Oh~" 

"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.

The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut.  You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.

Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.

Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped. 

"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.

"Was 'gonna make it three, but.." 

"But?"

Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.

"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.

She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.

A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"

A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.

"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.

That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.

In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.

You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.

Now your eyes truly cannot escape.

Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"

"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.

"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.

You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.

"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.

Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.

"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.

"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.

Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.

"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.

"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."

You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.

Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.

And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.

Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.

"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.

"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.

You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods. 

Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.

Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.

Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.

Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.

"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.." 

A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.

Her own arousal rots you further down, too.

With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.

A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either. 

"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring. 

"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.

Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around." 

Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.

A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.

Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.

A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.

"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.

"Your fault."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm.." you hum timidly.

"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"

To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.

"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit. 

Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.." 

"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."

A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.

Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.

You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.

"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–" 

"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.

A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out. 

"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.

"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches. 

Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.

But of course, you don't answer.

"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.

"Y-you.."

"That's right."

This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.

"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.

Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."

"Sure."

Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from. 

Might she indulge more sampling?

Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.

The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.

"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–" 

Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.

"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.

Her cock was too much. 

A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.

"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.

"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.

"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.." 

Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto. 

You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.

"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."

Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.

A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.

Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!" 

Splash.

Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.

Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.

She usually does not cum like that.

Damn.

Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.

"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.

"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.

"Good?"

"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.." 

Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"

A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.

"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.

You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.

That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.

Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.

"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.

That's bad.

"Shit what do I–"

"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.

"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.

You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.

Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"

"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.

A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.

"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.

"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.

"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.

"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.

Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar." 

She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.

"Too late."

"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.

A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.

(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)

@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part two

firefighter!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

warnings: joel miller au, mentions of food / eating, literally so much tooth-rotting fluff it’s actually sickening, reader can sit on joel’s lap, mutual pining, kissing, dry humping, no use of y/n.

word count: 6.2k

synopsis: joel takes you on your first date with him.

a/n: special thank you to @punkshort for the meeting at the firehouse idea and for letting me ramble about the infinite ideas i have for this story in our dms. i appreciate the heck outta you

part one here

The summer sun gleamed on you as you made your way up to the firehouse he worked at. The big red doors were open and inviting, the shiny red trucks sitting perfectly still in the apparatus bay as you shyly stepped into the building. 

You carried a tray of cookies you made yourself, wanting to give it to the team as a thank you for being on the scene of your accident and getting you out safely. Well, they were mostly for Joel, Tommy, and the EMT’s. You weren’t able to see Joel in a few days and it drove you sort of crazy, so this was a perfectly good excuse. Joel would probably get teased by his coworkers again, and you’d probably get brought into the mix. It didn’t matter if it meant you got to see him.

It was odd, admitting that to yourself. You’d been single and alone for so long that you were used to the feeling of loneliness, but after meeting Joel, it genuinely sucked not being in his presence. You’ve only known the man for about a week, which made you feel even crazier for feeling this way. 

The way you felt around him was almost unexplainable. Light. Happy. You didn’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not, which you had to do more often than not with your job. 

Being around Joel Miller was like a tall glass of the purest, most refreshing water on Earth. 

“Hey miss, can I help you?” A kind voice snaps you back to reality. The man was wiping his hands with a dish rag, a small smile on his face as he eyed what you had in your hands. 

“Uh– yeah, actually, I came to drop these off for everyone. And uh– is Joel available?” 

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so shy. Maybe you were just worried as to what his coworkers would think about you coming to his job to ask to see him. 

The man had a knowing smirk on his face and nodded. 

“Ah, so you must be Miller’s mystery woman,” He laughs, jutting his chin up the steps. “He’s up there. Follow me.” 

Your face heats up from his words. Joel talks about you to them? 

You follow him up the stairs to the second floor where the lounge area and kitchen were. Many of them were gathered at the kitchen table while they ate, and a few others were playing a video game in the lounge area. 

“Hey Miller.” The man calls out, and first Tommy turns around with a piece of garlic bread hanging out of his mouth as he plates what looks like lasagna. You have to stifle a laugh at the confused look on his face, but then your heart skips a beat when your eyes land on Joel. 

He’s writing something down in a book, and he looks up at the man before his eyes flit to you. A grin spreads on his lips as you give him a shy smile and a small wave. He stands up from the table he was sitting at after capping his pen, making his way over to you. 

“Darlin’, this is such a nice surprise. Whatcha doin’ here?” He brings you into a hug, and catches himself refraining from giving you a kiss of any sort. He already got enough teasing from his coworkers and brother. 

“I made cookies for everyone. As a thank you, you know, for getting me out of that nasty accident.” 

His eyes soften at your words, eyebrows furrowing together as he takes the plate from your hand. 

“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you. I know these goons over here will devour these.” He motions his head to his coworkers behind him. 

You laugh as you look behind him, all of his coworkers' heads turned your way as they watch the interaction between you two. 

“You busy later tonight?” His voice drops a few octaves, setting the plate on the counter before he coaxes you to follow him downstairs again. 

“Nope. Just watching reruns of The Bachelor.” 

Joel quirks a brow at your show choice with a smile laced onto his lips. 

“Would you mind if I stopped by later? I feel bad I haven’t been able to see you.” 

“Don’t feel bad, Joel. I know you work odd hours,” You pause as he takes you into the locker rooms for some more privacy, away from prying eyes. “But of course you can come over. I’d love the company.” 

“Great. Maybe I can pick up some take-out and we can eat it at your place?” He’s hopeful with a sparkle in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter, once again. 

“Sounds great. I’ll text you the address when you get off work.” 

“I look forward to seein’ you. Y’know, away from nosey people.” He chuckles, referring to his coworkers. You admire the crinkle around his eyes when he smiles. 

“I look forward to it too, Joel,” You lean in and press your lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you later, cowboy.” You give him a wink before turning around to walk off, leaving him standing there with the goofiest grin plastered on his face. 

-

A few hours had passed by since you stopped off at the firehouse, and you were tidying up last minute things before Joel came over. 

You hadn’t had someone over at your place in a long time besides family, so a part of you wanted to impress him a little. 

He’d be over any minute now and you couldn’t stop your heart from racing. You don’t know what it was, but Joel just made you so nervous in the best way possible. You felt like a teenager all over again with a crush you’d giggle with your friends about—but in this case, it was your sister. 

Just as you finished fluffing up the last pillow on the couch, you heard a knock on your door. 

You checked through the peephole just to be sure it was Joel, and when you saw it was, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips. You open the door to him wearing more casual clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his biceps really well, holding a bag of takeout in his hand. 

“Hey darlin’.” He greets you with a smile on his face, and you move aside to let him in. 

“Hey Joel.” You close the door after he’s in, locking the top lock before turning around to face him. 

“Where should I set up this gourmet feast?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he holds up the bag of Chinese food. 

You huff a laugh and nod toward the dining room table. “There’s fine. Let me get some plates.” 

You make your way to the cabinets in your kitchen, pulling down two plates for the both of you before you turn around, only to be met with the close proximity of Joel. You gasp and look at him, biting your lip to keep from smiling. 

Goddamn teenager. 

“So, I figured out where I wanna take ya for our first date.” He starts, leaning against the counter.

“I thought this was our first date.” You blink, eyes shifting to the delicious smelling Chinese food sitting on your dining room table just waiting to be devoured. 

Joel snorts and crosses his arms, “You kiddin’ me? As much as I like bein’ in your company, this ain’t a date, darlin’. You deserve better than a half-assed plan to eat takeout and watch that one show you like.” 

You look down at your socked feet, having never really felt like a priority anytime you were involved romantically with someone. You barely even know this man and he’s already shown more effort toward you than some men of your past. 

“Baby, look at me,” Joel tilts your chin up again so your gaze meets his, and he gives you a soft smile that makes your insides absolutely melt. “As long as I’m around, I’m gonna make sure you feel important. It’s the least you deserve.” 

And you want to believe him, so fucking bad. There’s this stupid nagging voice in the back of your head telling you that what he’s saying isn’t true—you don’t deserve to feel important and being single was the best decision you could’ve made for yourself. 

You force those thoughts to drown for now, focusing on him and his gentle gaze. 

“Thank you.” You give him a small smile, and his hand moves to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb back and forth. 

“‘Course. But, I gotta get somethin’ off my chest before we take this whole datin’ thing any further.” 

You furrow your brows, and the way his gaze shifts to a pleading look makes you nervous. What could it possibly be? 

“I know this ain’t for everyone, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore after this–” He pauses, lips twisting to the side as his eyes move to the ground, “But I really hope this doesn’t change what we got goin’ on. I really do like you, darlin’.” 

“What is it, Joel?” You can’t even concentrate on the sweet words that just oozed out of his mouth. Your stomach was coiling into an unwanted knot, endless possibilities of what he has to say in mind. 

“I have a daughter.” 

That’s what he was worried about? Oh. 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing, Joel. Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you after you told me this?” You’re the one reassuring him now, gently grabbing his face in your hands before swiping your thumbs over the stubble on his jaw. 

“You’d be surprised how many women have run for the hills after I’ve told them that.” A sad chuckle bubbles from his throat, and you lean forward to kiss his nose. 

“Not this one, cowboy.” 

-

Joel didn’t tell you a single thing about where he was taking you. All he told you was to dress comfortably for the hot weather and wear some walking shoes, so you opted for a tank top and jeans with rips at the knees and your comfiest shoes. 

You heard a knock on the front door of your apartment, and you eagerly checked the peephole before opening up the door. You grinned at Joel, but stopped short when you saw him wearing a Stetson. 

Fuck, he looked so good.

“Howdy.” He greets in true cowboy fashion, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your throat. 

“Howdy there, cowboy.” You flick the brim of his hat teasingly before grabbing your purse, locking up as you both head down to his truck. 

“So you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re heading to?” You ask once you’re both buckled in, and the truck roars to life. 

“You’ll see in a few minutes. Jus’ wanted to surprise you a little for our first… of hopefully many… dates.” He mumbles the last part under his breath, but your heart rate accelerates knowing he wanted to continue to see you. 

Soft tunes play within the confines of the cab of the truck and you look out of your window. It was all flatlands for a few miles, and then you both hit a bit of traffic, but you could easily see the huge ferris wheel from where you were at. 

You gasped as you sat straight in your seat, eyes shooting to Joel. “You’re taking me to the state fair?” You couldn’t contain your excitement. You absolutely loved the nostalgia the fair brought you, and you hadn’t been in a few years. 

“Mhm.” He says, tugging at his shirt collar with his index finger nervously. 

You grin and lean over the center console, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’m so excited.” 

Joel smiles at your words and reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“I’m glad. I was hopin’ you’d be into this idea. I know it’s not a traditional first date in any sense, but I gotta keep ya on your toes.” Joel winks at you, and you toss your head back with a laugh. 

“Miller, you’ve done that since the first words we spoke to each other at Rosemary’s. I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I really do like you and it’s nice to be in the company of someone who actually puts thought into things like this. It means a lot.” 

“‘M glad you feel that way, darlin’. It means a great deal that you think so highly of me.” His tone is playful, but his words are sincere. 

“Only ‘cus you literally saved me from being trapped in my car. No biggie.” You huff a laugh, and he wraps his right arm around your shoulder to give your body a light shake. 

You both sit in a comfortable silence before making it to the parking lot. Once you find a parking spot, you  practically drag Joel to the ticket booth to purchase admission into the fair. He couldn’t help but laugh and admire your eagerness. 

“Okay,” He starts, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Where to first?” 

“I’m actually pretty hungry. Wanna start off with food?” You ask him, and he nods immediately. You link your hand with his, and he lets you keep your fingers interlocked, so you lead him toward the so-called food court of the fair. 

The array of smells coming from every which way had you practically salivating. You ended up getting some wings and fries with a side of fried pickles, while Joel got a turkey leg and blooming onion. 

You make your way to a table and settle in, diving into your food. You push your plate of fried pickles toward Joel, and he happily plucks a couple off the plate and pops them into his mouth. 

“I swear there’s nothing on this Earth like fair food.” He hums, shaking his head as he chews on another fried pickle. 

“Agreed,” You say, eating a couple of fried pickles yourself before you speak up again. “So, tell me about Sarah, if you’d like.” 

Joel’s eyes avert to yours at the mention of her name, and the biggest smile overtakes his features. His eyes crinkle in pure happiness and he’s elated that you want to hear about his baby girl. 

“She’s so charismatic. Most sure fourteen year old you’d ever meet,” He starts with a grin as he begins to gather all the intel about his daughter so he can tell you exactly what she’s like. “She’s so smart, n’ I’m not jus’ sayin’ that ‘cus I’m her dad, but she really does carry such intelligence. She’s witty, funny, sarcastic, and just so damn bright. She easily captivates a crowd in a room with her wit n’ charm, which she obviously gets from me.” Joel boasts with a proud look on his face before shooting you a wink. 

You can’t help but giggle at the way he jokes, but you deeply admire the way he talks about her. You can tell she’s his whole world and more, and seeing a father love his daughter as much as he does warms your heart immensely. 

Joel was starting to show his heart on his sleeve. It was like uncovering invisible ink inch by inch. 

“She sounds absolutely wonderful. I’m sure she keeps you on your toes.” 

“She absolutely does.” He can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest. Raising her as a single parent wasn’t easy, but he made do. He thought he did a pretty good job. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Sarah’s mom?” Joel gave you a sad smile, and maybe that wasn’t territory you should’ve crossed, you think. 

“She left shortly after Sarah was born. Didn’t wanna deal with bein’ a parent so young n’ all. I might’ve raised her all by myself, but her n’ I grew up together. She’s taught me endless love and so much patience.” 

“Oh Joel, I’m sorry–” He shakes his head, stopping you mid-sentence. 

“It’s okay, darlin’. Sarah n’ I navigate life together. That’s just how it is. We’re so used to it that having her mother in the picture would honestly be very weird.” He plucks another fried pickle from your plate, popping it into his mouth with a sly grin. You can’t help but return the smile. 

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sure it probably wasn’t easy.” 

Joel shrugs, “It got easier to talk about overtime. Sarah n’ I are great.” 

“Does she know you’re on a date right now?” You’re curious. You don’t want to be the person that suddenly barges into their lives and disrupts their routine or anything. Sarah sounds so sweet, and the last thing you wanted was to intervene between the two. 

“She does, actually. She’s been hecklin’ me to go out n’ date again. She’s on the varsity soccer team at school n’ since she spends so much time with her team, she didn’t want me to be lonely. She was excited when I told her I was goin’ on a date today.” 

“She just wants you to be happy,” You say, and he nods. “Don’t blame her. I’d want the same for you, too.” 

“I am happy. You make me happy. Don’t know what it is about you that’s got me feelin’ so crazy inside. Feels like I’m a teenage boy again.” Joel laughs, and your eyes widen, because that’s exactly how you feel. 

“Joel, that’s—”

You heard your name being called from a short distance away, and your head swiveled around to lock eyes with none other than your sister. 

“Shit.” You say under your breath, and Joel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks, but before you could answer, your sister and her fiancé stroll up to the table. 

“Hey sis! Didn’t know you’d be here today.” She has a shit-eating grin on her face, like she just caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“Didn’t know you’d be here either.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, eyes shifting to the man standing beside her. 

“Hi Josh.” You greet him with a small wave, and the sympathy in his eyes is enough of a forewarning that you were going to be in for it from your sister. 

“So who’s this?” Your sister gestures to Joel, and you glare at her briefly. You felt heat creep up your body, feeling a little ticked off. You wanted to keep Joel a mystery just a little longer. 

“This is Joel. Joel, this is my sister and her fiancé Josh.” You introduce them three, and while you’re feeling nothing short of embarrassed, Joel has a big smile on his face as he extends his hand to shake both of theirs. 

“Nice to meet y’all.” He says, and your sister beams. 

“Ah, so you’re the mystery firefighter my sister always gushes about,” She laughs, and you groan and hide your face behind your hands. “Thank you for getting her out of that horrible car accident, by the way.” Her voice was coated with sincerity and gratefulness. 

“‘S no problem, really. I’d rescue her any day.” He looks at you as you peek an eye through your fingers, and he shoots you a wink. 

Your sister ‘aww’s at Joel’s words. 

The heat in your face never wavers and you hide your face again, shaking your head in pure embarrassment. 

“So when’s the wedding?” Joel asks politely, making conversation so awkwardness doesn’t roll over the four of you. 

Your sister can’t help but gleam when she answers him, “August tenth! You should come. It would be so much fun.” 

Your hands evade your face, and you look up at your sister with furrowed brows and a panicked stare. What the hell was she doing? 

Joel looked at you for a second with a small smile, and you wanted so badly to shrink into yourself and let the world swallow you whole. 

“Love to, only if this one would like me to go.” He nudges your foot under the table playfully, and an awkward chuckle escapes you. 

“You’d be subjected to my family if you went, Joel. I’m not sure you’d wanna deal with… all that.” 

Your sister laughs at your words, “She does have a fair point. Our brothers and cousins are quite the rowdy bunch.” 

“I like a challenge.” Joel smirks, eyes locking with yours. 

“I like him even more now.” Your sister laughs, nudging you on your shoulder. 

You shoo her hand away, rolling your eyes. “Okay, okay. It’s up to you, Joel, but I’m giving you a huge warning in advance.” 

He grins at you and grabs your hand from across the table, gently swiping his thumb over your soft skin. 

“Well, It was nice to meet you, Joel. Josh and I are gonna head out and grab a funnel cake.” Your sisters bids you both goodbye, and you and Joel both say your goodbyes before they walk off. 

“God, Joel, I am so sorry. I hope you don’t feel pressured into going to her wedding or anything. I know it’s like a month away and–”

Joel stops you with a kiss to the back of your hand. “Not at all, darlin’. But if you rather I not go, then I won’t. ‘S up to you.” 

“It’s not that–it’s just–,” You sigh, trying to find the right wording. “I’ve been single for so long. My last relationship didn’t end well, and my family is overprotective of me because they don’t wanna see me get hurt again. They can be… a bit much, sometimes.” 

You look at him, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

“I mean, that’s understandable. Nobody likes seein’ members of their family gettin’ hurt, especially in a relationship. ‘M sorry your last one ended badly, but baby, if you let me, I’d love to give you everythin’ I can. I know this datin’ thing is scary, because hell, it took me so long to say yes to someone’s advances, but I really do like you and I would love to see where this goes.” 

You’re elated by Joel’s words. He was just so damn sweet and you genuinely felt like you didn’t deserve any of this. Dating is a scary thing, and the thought of giving yourself to someone again, letting them in to get to know all of you, terrified you. 

But, your sister's words ring in your head, once again. The world won’t end if you give up an ounce of control. 

“I’m glad you said yes to my advances.” You say, and Joel lifts your hands to his lips once again, giving it several kisses. 

“‘M happy I did, too.” 

-

“So which game do you want to play?” Joel asks, looking back at you as you try to fall into step with him. It was a couple of hours later, the sunset starting to creep in. 

“The water gun game. Love that one.” You grin, and he leads the way to the last two empty seats on the side. Joel hands the man running the game four tickets as you both settle in your seats, and you flash Joel a smirk. 

“Get ready to get your ass handed to you, cowboy.” Your shoulders shake with laughter as he gives you a look. He didn’t expect a competitive side to come out of you, but he liked it. A lot. 

“‘M ready, baby. Don’t hold back now.” He laughs as you both take hold of the metal machines, hovering your thumbs over the red buttons on the top. The bell goes off to start, and you zero in on getting the water into the tiny target. You don’t even think you blink until the bell goes off, signifying that someone won. 

You look up at the poles, and although Joel beat you, neither of you won. Some guy at the other end won and picked out a prize for his girlfriend and gave her a big kiss after she got a big plushie. 

You smile at the scene before you, and Joel notices you looking at them. He was determined to win something for you, because he wanted you to remember this day. 

He leads you over to a ball throwing game where he has to knock down bottles on three tiers of shelves. Nobody else was at the stand, so he got the opportunity to show off and impress you. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes moved to the rippling biceps beneath the hem of his shirt, trailing them up to his tan neck, to the slightly graying stubble on his jaw, to his plush lips and strong angular nose, and his pretty eyes. His soft brown curls were barely peeking out from under his Stetson, and all you wanted to do was take his hat off and run your fingers through his hair. 

He’s a fucking dreamboat, and you really couldn’t believe that you were able to pull someone like him. 

“This one’s for you, baby.” He turns to wink at you, catching you staring at him. Heat shoots up to your face and you give him a shy smile, watching as he easily knocks down five bottles. Even the game attendant was impressed, and Joel pulled you into his side so you could pick out whichever stuffed animal you wanted. 

You chose a big teddy bear that was squishy, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek and thanking him for winning it for you. 

“So how many teddy bears have you won for previous women? You made that look too easy.” You joke, nudging his side as you both walk away from the game. 

“Mm, around thirty. I’m a regular here.” Joel deadpans. Your mouth drops open in mock offense, and the most guttural laugh erupts from his chest. 

“Jus’ you, baby. Tommy n’ I used to play catch a lot.” He reassures you, and you quirk your brow at him. 

“Better be, Miller, or there’ll be hell to pay.” You poke his chest with no malice behind your actions. 

“I bet there will be, darlin’.” He catches your hand and spins you around so your back is flush against his front, and he kisses your neck. He’s moving ahead of you before you even have time to process what just happened, but excitement zinged through your body at his gesture. 

You walk for about five minutes before you spot a photo booth not even twenty feet away. You stop him in his tracks and look at him with the best pleading eyes you can muster up. 

“Would you hate me if I asked you to take pictures with me?” You nod your head toward the photo booth, and Joel looks taken aback. 

“Hate you? I could never. I’d love to take pictures with you.” 

You guess you didn’t realize your wording before you said it. You were so used to your ex hating things you wanted to do, including taking photos to capture memories. He always made you feel bad about it, so you stopped doing it so much after you broke up. You just didn’t realize that the shitty feeling was still buried somewhere inside you. 

Joel tugs you along to the photo booth, sliding in first. The bench was extremely small, and it was nearly impossible to fit both of you side-by-side. 

“Jus’ sit on my lap.” Joel suggests, spreading his legs and patting his thigh. You swallow harshly and nod, sitting on his lap.

 You both get situated and put the two dollars in the machine before pressing the start button. Joel grabs on to your hips, and you nearly melt into a fucking puddle at his touch. 

It’d been so long since anyone has simply touched you, so your whole body was buzzing with nerves and excitement. 

You both smile for the first photo. You didn’t know what to do next, so you threw up a peace sign, Joel following your lead. For the third photo, you grabbed Joel’s face and gently squished him between your forefinger and thumb, sticking your tongue out.

You look at the screen and realize Joel was staring at you, so you turn your head to look at him. His smile is soft and his eyes are hooded, glancing down at your lips. 

You pluck his Stetson off of his head, covering half of your faces as Joel leans in and closes the gap, kissing you gently. Your body melts into his as you bring your other hand up to his curls, running your fingers through them to cradle the back of his head. His arms tighten around you, and he deepens the kiss, turning his head to the side. 

The last sound of the shutter goes off, but neither of you pull away. The arm holding his hat moves to rest on his shoulder as your lips move in tandem. You don’t know how long you were there just kissing. It was gentle and sweet, but there was a ferocious hunger that was brewing beneath the surface. You both felt it. 

You had to pull away before you lost all control, so you regrettably separated yourself from him. He rubbed his nose against yours, breathing a little ragged, before he leaned back to look at you. 

He cups your face and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone, giving you one last peck as reality trickles back down around you both once more. You put his hat back on his head before standing up from his lap, an unavoidable neediness coursing through your body. 

You grabbed both of the photo strips that were printed, smiling at them when you saw what they looked like. You never thought you’d admit to yourself ever again that you looked good with someone else by your side, but you couldn’t deny the sparkle in your eyes that you saw in the photos—all because of Joel. 

It scared you, truthfully. The thought of relying on someone else for happiness or reassurance just didn’t sit well with you quite yet, but what was the point of it all if you weren’t willing to let yourself just try? 

An hour passed before beautiful hues of orange, purple and pink took over as dusk settled on the horizon of the sky. You and Joel decided to split a funnel cake, but not without getting powdered sugar all over yourselves. 

“You got a little…” Joel trails off as he reaches his thumb out to the corner of your mouth, swiping off some stray powdered sugar before popping his thumb into his mouth. You lick your lips and watch him carefully, the ache of arousal only getting worse. 

“Wanna go on the ferris wheel?” You ask, desperate to distract yourself from your undying want for this man. 

“Love to.” 

You both dust off any powdered sugar left behind on your shirts, walking hand-in-hand to the ferris wheel. Joel gave the ride attendant the last six tickets he had, and you both climbed on. 

You were silent for most of the ride, admiring all the twinkling lights and patrons below. You glance at Joel who was already looking at you once again, and you can’t help the smile from forming. 

“Thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun.” 

“‘Course, darlin’. ‘M glad I got to do this with you.” 

“Me too. I have some pretty great souvenirs, too.” You clutch onto your teddy bear, and he shakes his head with a laugh. 

The ferris wheel came to a stop, and you realized you were both at the top as you looked down at the fairgrounds below. 

“Would it be super fuckin’ cheesy and cliché if I asked you to kiss me right now?” Joel asks, scooting closer to you. 

“It would,” You start, leaning in to him. “But I don’t care. Be as cheesy and cliché as you’d like.” 

He grins before tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips to yours once more. This time was a bit different. Joel kissed you with more force, neediness coursing through his body just as much as yours. 

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, and you immediately parted your lips for him. You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled in your throat as you moved closer to him, gripping onto his bicep. 

It was so easy to get lost in him. It was easy to talk with him, to laugh with him, to be with him. So, so fucking easy. 

You’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was wild to think about, because you just met him not even a month ago, but you could see yourself being so unapologetically happy with him. 

It might’ve been insane to think about that so early on, but your gut was telling you that you finally chose right. 

You were so wrapped up in each other and the heated kiss you were exchanging that you didn’t even realize the ferris wheel started moving again, and you eventually reached the bottom. The ride attendant awkwardly cleared their throat with a tight-lipped smile, and you immediately pulled away from Joel. 

You were mortified as you uttered ‘sorry’ at least five times before getting off the ride with Joel. 

Joel couldn’t help but laugh that you two had been caught, but he couldn’t care less. He felt so himself and so carefree around you. 

“Should we head back to yours?” He asks, a hint of desperation in his tone. You couldn’t even find the right words because your brain was absolute mush, so you just nod your head in agreement. 

The ride home didn’t take long, but as soon as you walked through your apartment door with him and set your prize and purse down, he was on you. He gently pushed you up against the door, hands wrapping around you as one moved down to your lower back. 

He separated his lips from yours for a second, nibbling on your chin. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asks, voice filled with hope. 

God, please, yes. Touch me everywhere, you think. 

“Yes.” You whisper, and his lips are on yours once again. His tongue invaded your mouth, this kiss even hungrier than it was on the ferris wheel. One of his hands moved down to your ass, and you moaned into his mouth at the touch, fisting the back of his shirt into your hand in desperation. 

He moved you away from the door and walked backward toward your couch, plopping down on it. He immediately yanks your hips down so you’re straddling him, and you gently take the Stetson off of his head before setting it to the side. You crash your lips to his once again, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you press yourself into his crotch unintentionally. 

Joel groans at the sensation, cock stirring in his jeans as you both continue to invade each other’s mouths, all teeth and tongue. His hands move down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he guides you to rock your hips against his. 

You don’t even shy away anymore. You want this—you want him. But you had to pace yourself, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew. You ground your hips into his, clit catching perfectly onto the seam of your jeans as you felt his bulge straining against the denim he was wearing. 

“Fuck, Joel.” You whine, biting your bottom lip as you separate your lips from his. 

“I know, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s breathless as he moves you a little faster, and you nod your head feverishly. 

“Yeah–yes–fuck, it does. So good.” Your arousal was coating your panties, slick and warm as your cunt ached to be touched. 

Slow. Slow, you had to remind yourself.  

You’d just have to take care of yourself after he left tonight. 

“Fuck–darlin’ I think we should–wait.” Joel tries to find the words as they barely register in his head. 

You slow your hips down, panting against him and you nod. 

“I know. We should take it slow.” You say, and he licks his lips with a nod. 

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, as much as I’d love to–I jus’– I haven’t been with anyone in a real long time, and I don’t wanna fuck this up. I wanna do this right.” 

“I know, Joel. I’m with you. I wanna take this slow, too. I like you a lot and I wanna do this right with you as well.” 

Your eyes bored into his brown ones, sparkling with hope and happiness. He kissed your cheek a few times before nosing at your jaw, hands moving up to settle on your hips again. 

He pulled back and looked at you with that same soft smile on his handsome face—a sight you knew you’d never tire of. 

You’d quickly come to a revelation as you stared at him, chest heaving up and down as you desperately tried to catch your breath: you were falling—and this time, you didn’t want to get back up. 

tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11

divider by @saradika-graphics

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Chicken Soup for Carmy

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.

A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺

-

It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.

Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.

Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”

You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.

You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.

“Yeah?” His voice responded.

“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.

“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.

Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.

“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.

“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.

Love.

Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.

That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.

Yeah. Not special.

Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.

“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”

You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, in a bit.”

You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”

“What?” Carmy asked, confused.

“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.

You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”

“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”

“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”

He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”

Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”

Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.

All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.

“I said I’ll walk home with you.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“

“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.

The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”

Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.

“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.

“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You live over there?”

“Yeah? Like a block down?”

There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.

“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”

Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-

“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”

Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”

Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”

[cupcraft]

Some easy cooking/meal tips as an adult grad student:

You dont need to chop amazingly perfectly and meticuously. At the end of the day chop safely and however. If it tastes good its good.

Instant things can make things 1000% easier for yourself. Instant mash/instant mac/instant rice/instant pasta/etc. Add Frozen things. Add premade things. Your dishes don't have to be from scratch at all aspects ever. Do what is easiest for you and delicious!

You can use pre-ground spices. I know, yes, whole spices and roasting them and grinding them and using a mortar/pestle yourself is delicious and wondrous. But you can use preground spices to save time. You can use a food processor to blend spices/garlic/etc. together.

If you struggle with making too much food (ie food waste concern), try to make dishes you know will freeze well that way you can have leftovers that store for a long time (ie potatoes dont necessarily freeze well imo, whereas rice freezes just fine!). I also recommend just halving recipes and try to shoot for as many portions is suitable for you.

Uh oh made too much rice? What do I do and i dont want to freeze it? 1-2 days in the fridge and you have rice that is going to make an excellent fried rice. You always want to use old rice! And you can put whatever you want in it!

Canned food is okay. Canned food is okay. Canned food is okay. Eat canned meats, fish, vegetables, etc. Imo some canned veggies arent my favorite flavor wise but if you like it and it works USE IT.

Add mayo to each side of your bread when making grilled cheese. It'll make a great brown crust in a buttered pan.

American/processed/velveeta like cheese is fine. Its delicious it melts well its totally fine. Stop demonizing processed foods and "preservatives". Velveeta/kraft cheeses are going to melt so perfectly for your grilled cheese the end.

Instant pots & slow cookers & air fryers can make your life a lot easier, and at least for instant pots/slow cookers I find them easier to clean!

Meal planning will really help you. Plan what you want to eat every week (or as far ahead as it helps you). Pre-cut vegetables. Buy meat in bulk and freeze/thaw as needed. Etc. Prepping/planning will make your life easier!

You can often buy shrimp that is pre-peeled & deveined, and even pre-cooked. This makes cooking time easier and faster.

It's okay to order takeout if you dont have the energy to cook. Its okay to order takeout if you do have the energy to cook. Enjoy and treat yourself.

Preboiling your potatoes (tender but not fully done) then baking them can make a crispier roasted potato.

[thebearer]

i'll make you so sure about it |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a run in with "claire-bear" leaves you bristled with jealousy. carmen assures you there's no need to be.

contains: minors dni 18+. mean-ish reader (she's jealous), dom/sub dynamics, dom!carmen, kinda brat tamer!carmen too, language, mentions to past relationships, fingering (fem rec), p in v sex, aftercare.

“What else is on the list?” Carmen pushed the cart through the aisles of the grocery store, tossing the figs into the basket. 

“Black garlic.” You marked through the scratchy handwriting that belonged to Carmen, pen tapping on the small notepad. “Never heard of black garlic.” 

“Really?” Carmen hummed in amusement, a tiny smile that was soft but warm- just for you. “You’ve had it before.” 

“Have I?” You lifted a brow. “You’ve been sneaking things in my food, hm?” 

“Tryna expand your palette, babe.” Carmen scoffed, pulling you in by your waist into him. 

You laughed, looking down at your list, squirming when his fingers ghosted over your sides. “Oh, shoot, I forgot we need detergent.” You hiss, looking at the bottle of Tide in the cart beside you. “I’m gonna go grab that, and you get the rest on the list?” 

Carmen nodded, taking the pad and pen out of your hand. “I got it. I’ll be over here, alright?” He nods towards the produce. 

You head in the opposite direction, spilling off in the frozen aisles to head back towards the cleaning section, snatching the detergent off the shelf. You’d have to run by the little apothecary shop down on Main to get more of the scent boosters you liked- that Carmen liked. He liked how your sheets always smelled when you first started dating, soft and clean and sweet somehow? Fuck, he wasn’t even sure how, but when you moved in with him, that smell lingered into his clothes, his sheet. He’d catch whiffs during the day at work, a calming breeze that grounded him, kept his mind rushing back to you. 

You scanned the produce section, finding the familiar head of curls tucked under a Bears hat. You had bought him that hat, a little playful joke since some customers were always asking if the restaurant was named after the team. It infuriated Carmen, annoyed him to no end, but the hat? He rolled his eyes, muttering something about you being “real funny” in a sarcastic tone, but he wore it anyway. It was a nice hat, what can he say?

Carmen was on the end, a grip on his basket that had you a little suspect, until you saw the other basket, parked next to his, a girl leaning towards Carmen. Your heart dropped, a spike of jealousy, hot and blinding shooting through your spine. 

“...You know I meant to stop by the restaurant last week, but I was so busy with rounds. You were closed by the time I got off.” The girl bragged, loud enough so the ones around her would be impressed. You wanted to scoff, did she not know this was Chicago? 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You could hear the edge in Carmen’s voice, and not the usual one that accompanied with unprompted social interaction. This was one harder, a strain that had you suspicious at the defensiveness. 

“Hey, Carmy,” You muttered, stepping beside him. He jumped when you did, eyes wide and scared like he’d been caught. “I got the detergent.” You placed it in the basket, trying to avoid the eyes of the girl in front of you. 

“Oh, uh, that’s great. Thank you.” Carmen’s hand found your waist easily, but you didn’t miss the way his hand rubbed on his jeans first, wiping the sweat off. 

“Hi,” The girl said, a tight lipped, forced smile that you knew all too well. “I’m Claire.” 

You gave it back, a snarl and cutting eyes, letting your name slide through your clenched teeth- a threat. “Yeah, uh, Claire and I…we, uh, used to go to school together.” Carmen stuttered.           

“Really? That’s it, Bear?” Claire laughed. Your spine straightened, the primal urge to ram your cart into hers so it sent the handle flying into her stomach because she used your nickname- maybe she’d break a rib. 

Your eyes cut to Carmen’s, lips rolling into a pursed pucker. Carmen flushed, red cheeks that spread to his ears, down to his neck. “Well, I mean, Claire’s real close with my family too.” Carmen offered, looking down at you, his heart dropping when he did. Fuck, you were pissed. 

“Richie and Mikey used to call me Claire Bear all the time.” She laughed, a forced, mean girl-esque laugh. “Used to tease Carmy for always drawing me.” 

“Oh?” You quipped, turning to Carmen with narrowed eyes. “Well, that’s funny. You must’ve been really close to get the Bear nickname too.” You hummed, an edge to your voice that had Carmen’s stomach dropping. He felt like he was going to be sick, under your gaze, hard eyes that questioned and challenged him. 

“Oh, yeah, we were always really close, weren’t we, Carmen?” Claire batted her eyes at him, and for a moment, you had to grip the basket. Stop yourself from slamming her head into the fridge. 

Carmen looked like he might pass out, palms rubbing against his jeans, eyes bouncing from you to her. “Y’know we should catch up sometime, Carmy. I’d love to see Sugar and Richie.” 

“Yeah, I-I’m not sure what they’re-” 

“-You know what.” You snipped, teeth ground tight. “I think I’ll finish shopping, and you two can catch up, alright?” You snatch the list out of Carmen’s hand. “It was so nice to meet you, Claire.” 

Carmen can feel your anger even after you stomp away, whizzing into the next aisle, slinging the basket with so much fury the detergent slides and he cringes as he thinks about the plums that probably got crushed. 

“Uh-oh,” Claire snickers. “Looks like I got you in trouble.” 

“Yeah- I mean, no, she’s just… We have plans later, so I gotta go. Tell your family I said hello.” Carmen nods, barely hearing her reply before he’s chasing you down the aisles. 

“Baby, hey, c’mon-” 

“Don’t.” You hissed, shoving Carmen’s hand off you. “Go back and talk to Claire Bear.” You snarled, voice rising in pitch to mock the name. 

“Don’t do this.” Carmen’s stomach turned, twisting with that familiar twinge of anxiety. His eyes were already darting towards the far end of the store, feeling like he needed to get a bottle of Pepto… maybe two. 

“Do what?” You snapped, huffing at him. “Honestly, Carmen, how would you feel if I ran into one of my old exes and they were talkin’ to me like that, huh?” 

“She’s not an ex-” 

“-Oh? She isn’t?” You deadpanned, glaring at Carmen. He faltered, eyes darting from your gaze just for a moment. “You’re such a fucking liar, Carmen, I’m not stupid.” You huffed, shoving the cart. 

“Hey,” Carmen snapped, heavy hand landing on the cart’s handle to stop it. “Cut it out, alright?” 

That only made you bristle even more, bouts of fury that spiked through your body. You wanted to scream, cause a scene and storm out, leaving him mortified and standing there with everyone staring at him. A few years ago, you would have. 

Instead, you slammed the rest of the list into the seat of the cart. “Give me the keys.” You huffed. 

“What? You can’t-” 

“-I’m going to sit in the fucking car, Carmen. Give me the fucking keys.” You growl, louder this time, turning the head of a passerby. 

Carmen flushed, furiously, shaking hands fishing his keys out of his pocket, dropping them in your hand. “D-Do you need anything else not on the list?” He asked softly, a hope that you might soften at his tone. 

You didn’t reply, turning on your heel instead, stomping out of the sliding doors. Carmen felt his stomach turn, lurching in his throat, heart hammering so hard sweat was forming at his hairline under the hat. He definitely needed that Pepto now. 

“She’s just a friend! A childhood friend, that-that I don’t even talk to!” Carmen huffed, his voice rising. You had been on him, furious and accusing from the moment he got in the car, all the way home, carrying the groceries up the steps of the apartment. 

“That you fucked!” Your voice shrilled loud enough Carmen flinched, knowing the neighbors would hear. “You fucked her!” 

“I-I… like one time!” Carmen stuttered, throwing his hands out in exasperation. He set the detergent with a heavy thud on the counter, glaring at it. It was the detergent’s fucking fault this happend, Carmen thought. He should have just gone with you or gotten the detergent instead- fuck, why did he have to run into Claire out of all people. 

“I knew it!” You smacked your hand against the cabinet. “I fuckin’ knew it! God, you are such a liar, Carmen!” 

“How did I lie? How? Hey, get back here, I’m talkin’ to you!” Carmen had reached his breaking point, beyond irritated and frustrated. 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Just a friend, my fuckin’ ass.” You growled, pushing the door to your bedroom open so quickly it hit the wall, the door stopper buzzing angrily. 

“Can you- Can you just listen to me, please?” Carmen took a grounding breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with clammy, uncomfortable hands. 

“Listen to you what? Listen to you tell me how you’ve known Claire Bear your whole life? And how the two of you have sooo much history together?” You sneer, teeth baring in a sort of growl that made Carmen’s heart spike with anger…maybe fear… maybe both?

“We don’t have… Baby, I-I really don’t fuckin’ know what you want from me here, alright? I don’t like Claire.” Carmen huffed. 

“Anymore.” You muttered, bitterly. 

“Yeah, anymore. I don’t- wait.” Carmen held up his hand, realization washing over him. “Wait a fuckin’ second. Are you- Are you jealous right now?” 

“Shut up, Carmen-” 

“-Oh my God! Holy shit! You’re jealous?” His tone was far too light, nearly mocking, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Why the fuck are you jealous?” 

“Oh, fuck you, Carmen! Like you wouldn’t be jealous if my ex was all over me like that in front of you!” You countered bitterly, satisfied at the way his jaw flexed at the thought. 

“Yeah, but your ex doesn’t have you, I do.” Carmen said, an edge in his voice that had ice shooting down your spine, a tingle spreading between your legs. He took a step forward, so close to you, his eyes were piercing into you, cutting right through your soul. “And Claire or-or anyone else doesn't have me, alright? You fuckin’ got me.” 

You tried to stay strong, keep your facade up for a little longer, not let him know how your knees were buckling under his stare. “Still, Carm,” Your voice was softer now, on the edge of a whine. “‘S not fair you let her talk to you like that in front of me.” 

“What did you want me to do?” Carmen scoffed, his hand finding your hip. “She only talked like that because she knew I was with you. Wanted to get under your skin, and you fuckin’ let her.” 

“I did not-” 

“Oh?” Carmen’s tone lilted, leaving you blushing furiously under his challenging gaze. “That’s why you threw a whole goddam fit? Fuckin’ leavin’ the store? Bitchin’ me out the whole way home?” 

You pouted, huffing at the meanness in his tone. Carmen’s hand caught your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. “You acted bad, and for what? I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you, you know that.” Your cheeks burned with heat, hoping he couldn’t see how flustered he was making you, scolding you like this. Oh, you were fucking throbbing. 

“Even when you’re mean to me like that. You know I only want you. Don’t insult me like that, thinkin’ I’d ever want someone else, you got me?” Carmen snapped. 

“Yes, Carmen.” You muttered, eyes rolling to the floor. 

“Who?” Carmen growled, jerking your chin back to him. 

You blushed, thighs rubbing together. You knew what he wanted, what was coming. “Yes, Daddy.” You muttered, pitch rising in your tone to that light airy voice you used when you played, reserved just for him. 

Carmen hummed satisfied, letting his hand slide down your jaw, fingers curling and tilting your chin upwards towards him. “Why would you think I wanted anyone else, hm?” Carmen rasped, lips brushing over yours but not giving into you yet- teasing you. His free hand slid down your waist, slowly, pinky toying with the edge of your leggings. “You know you’re it for me. Don’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” You hummed, his hand sneaking under the stretchy elastic of your pants, sliding closer and closer to where you needed him most. 

Carmen’s lips slid over your soft skin, finally pressing to the corner of your mouth. His fingers cupping your mound, sliding over your clothed slit teasingly. “Think I need to remind you, hm? D’you forget? That’s it?” Carmen rasped, pointer finger pressing against the cotton of your panties, circling over your clit. 

You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, his lips trailing down your jaw, free hand moving to hold you by the back of your neck, keeping you still while you squirmed against his touch. “Think I need to remind you, baby.” Carmen growled, the vibrations from his voice muffled on your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. “That what I need t’do, huh?” 

“Yes.” You whined, nasally and desperate, abdomen already clenching at the way he was working your clit. “Please.” You begged. 

“Please, what? Huh? Who’re you talkin’ to?” Carmen hummed, teeth grazing over the sensitive spot on your neck that had you lurching, knees buckling at the combined sensations. 

“Please, Daddy.” You panted, eyes rolling back when he licked over your neck, fingers pressing harder, rubbing tighter circles around your clit. 

You could feel how hard Carmen was, bulge rubbing against your hip, trying to satisfy his own throbbing. Your nails sunk into his skin, sure you’d leave marks, but you were sure he wouldn’t care. “You want me to take care of you? Want me to show you?” Carmen asked, so sweetly it made you gush, clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up. 

“Yes, please, Daddy. Please.” You shuddered, a strangled breathy moan falling past your lips. “I need it so bad, please.” 

Carmen’s pace picked up furiously, a groan leaving his lips when he sucked at your sensitive skin there, hand tightening around the back of your neck to keep you in place. You could feel your legs shake, Carmen’s pace steadying and keeping tight circles around your clit, sending you reeling and jerking with every graze of his tongue, clinging to him while you fell apart- too easily. He did this to you too easily, knew you too well so he could. 

Carmen’s hand pulled out of your pants, your panties soaked with your own slick, some coating his fingers where you leaked through the fabric. Carmen let them pass in front of you, eyes locked to yours when he slipped them in his mouth, your breath hitching when he cleaned your release off his fingers. 

“Out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I want anyone else.” Carmen’s eyes darkened, holding your gaze in a menacing way. “Nobody tastes fuckin’ better than you, are you crazy? Thinkin’ I’d want someone else.” Carmen scoffed, leaving you shuddering, still reeling from your own high. 

“Take those clothes off and get on the bed. I’ll show you who you belong to. Who I belong to.” Carmen’s head jerked towards the bed. 

You scrambled towards it, shoving off your legging and peeling off clothes, tossing them into the corner of the room. You were slick, still pulsing from moments before, lying back on the edge of the bed with parted legs. The sick click of your own wetness filling the room when you spread yourself- oh, Carmen was sure he was going to pass out, looking at you spread and wet and waiting for him. All for him. If it wasn’t for the near painful throbbing of his cock, he would have devoured you, made you cum over and over and over on his tongue until his mouth was drenched with you, your scent filling his nose. Another time, he decided, pumping himself a few times. 

“You know, you really piss me off sayin’ shit like that.” Carmen huffed, pushing his hair back with his hand, inked fingers running through those blonde curls that were your weakness.

You look at him, feeling the fat head of his cock rubbing through your folds, teasing you already. “Actin’ like I’d ever want somebody else. Gettin’ jealous and for what, huh? Just actin’ out.” Carmen leaned down, folding his body so it was over yours, his face inches from your own. “You know you’re the only one for me. Only one I’d ever want.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, pushing in deeply in one swift movement, filling you entirely with his length. You gasped, clawing at his shoulder blades until he was flush against you, your breath stammering, eyes rolling back at the stretch. 

Carmen waited, feeling you relax around him until he moved, a hard snap of his hips, unforgiving and painfully slow, rolling into you. You whined, a high pitched gasp, Carmen’s lips pressing to your wrist gently. He let his hips roll, getting into a steady, hard pace that left you drooling, eyes rolling back at each calculated jab to the sweet spot inside of you. The way you were clenching, Carmen knew he wasn’t going to last long. 

“Thinkin’ I’d want somebody else,” Carmen scoffed between gritted teeth, swallowing back the groan in the back of his throat at the way your pussy was strangling him right now. “I told you a million- shit- a million times before, baby. You’re it for me. You got that?” 

“Y-Yes, Carmy.” You shuddered, eyes already glossing over, mind numbing and reeling all at once. Your legs were shaking, burning already with another build up of pleasure. Carmen’s hips snapped, leaving you crying out, your own moans bouncing off the walls. 

Carmen chose not to correct you, muscles tightening in his legs and abs, trying to keep himself from spilling too soon. He knew you were close, could see it in your eyes, the rounding of your mouth. Leaning down, Carmen buried himself back into your neck, pushed into your skin. His own soft whines muffled against you, leaving you soaring with adoration, swimming in pleasure. 

“I don’t want anyone else but you.” Carmen admitted, hidden in the slick skin of your neck, a much softer admission than anything before. It was sincere, leaving you burning with heat, shaking as the tight coil in your tummy unraveled. 

Carmen felt you gush over him, wetting the hair at the base of his pelvis, before he pushed himself back up, pounding hard and deep inside of you to finish himself off. Hot breath hitting your neck, tiny whines and groans of pleasure buzzing in your ear before he finished, spilling inside of you with long, slow strokes. 

Carmen collapsed on top of you, his own mind racing and cloudy, chest heaving against yours. You sighed, welcoming the weight of him on top of you. It was heavy, a little crushing, but safe in a way. It was him, smothering you in the best way. 

He rolled off, a few huffs before he was beside you, feeling his release run out of you. You didn’t even care, you had the detergent- you’d clean the sheets. 

“You know I don’t like her.” Carmen muttered, still staring at the ceiling. You turned to look at him, silent but questioning. “Claire, or-or anyone, right?” Carmen’s eyes were rounded, filled with a familiar guilt that told you his mind was racing again. 

“I only like- I only love you.” Carmen corrected, lips pressing together, jaw flexing with emotion. “I-I don’t know why she did that, but… Like, you’re it for me. You know that? I don’t care about any of that other shit with Claire or-or anyone, because I just want you.” 

It was raw, a little hushed like he was scared to admit it, to say it too loud and scare you off- scare himself. But you did know it. Even through your blind, jealous rage, you knew it. You knew Carmen only cared for you, only loved you. And you felt the same way about him. 

“I know.” You nodded, reaching out to grab his hand, curling your fingers around the calloused fingers, bringing them to your lips. You kissed the inked ‘O’ on his middle finger, letting your nose nuzzle the skin. 

“I’m sorry I got jealous.” You muttered, leaning into his hand, hoping it would hide your flushed, embarrassed cheeks. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t like how she was trying it with you. Trying to come at what’s mine.”

Carmen grinned, the possessiveness in your voice, it made his heart skip. Knowing there was someone out there so fiercely protective of him- wanting to keep him and love him that way. It was something he never imagined having. He was glad he had it with you. 

“I know.” Carmen nodded, biting back his own grin. “You got me, though. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, sliding closer to you on the duvet, letting his leg fall over your hip. 

You settled under the weight, still cradling his hand to your cheek. “Good.” You hummed. “‘M not goin’ anywhere either, Bear.” 

“You better not.” Carmen grinned, playfully but he meant it. 

You laughed, a breathy light huff, lips pressing a kiss into his thumb. “Well, except to clean the sheets.” You muttered, feeling the wetness pooling around you. “Probably need to do that.” 

“Yeah,” Carmen sighed, looking between the two of you. “I need to put the rest of the groceries away, too. Kinda got… distracted, ya know.” 

You blushed. “Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be.” Carmen muttered, sincerity in his tone. “You-You don’t have to be sorry for that.” 

You didn’t argue, simply melting into his touch, leaning forward so his lips were on yours, body pressing your into the mattress, pinned by his kiss. You could feel the burn between your legs, the raised skin on his shoulders where you’d clawed at him- marks that he was yours, reminders that you were his. 

[inkdrinkerworld]

Remmy not letting his gf do anything ever when he’s there is making my brain go brrr

Him being so happy about it is so cute i love the way you write him plz expand on this remmy he’s so gorgeous to me

Imagine you trying to help cook or something and him literally lifting you up and sitting you down because all his girl needs to do is sit there and look pretty

Hehe I really love this idea of remmy cos hes just such an acts of service bf that he hates you doing anything

You can cook. You’ve coked so many times that you can do it with your eyes closed.

However, you’ve just come home from work and Remus doesn’t want you lifting a single finger.

He’s in the kitchen chopping vegetables for a shepherd’s pie.

“Hey Rem, I’m just gonna go shower really quick before I come down to help you.” You stamp a quick kiss to his jaw and rush to the bathroom.

Remus only hums, wiping his hands on the cloth hanging on his apron before setting the onions and garlic in a hot pan.

You come back in, hands aching to help Remus even as you yawn. You lift the peeler, ready to start on the potatoes when Remus shakes his head.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts, taking the metal peeler and potato from your hands and setting them down.

“What? Rem, c’mon.” Your feet are off the floor in an instant. Remus’ hands are on your hips, lifting you effortlessly before placing you on the counter.

“No ‘c’mon’, you know you’re not allowed after work,” he says, peeling the potatoes as he stands next to you. “Tell me about your day? How was the meeting?”

You’re pouty till Remus gives you a soft smile, nudging your jaw with his nose while he waits for you to speak.

“You’re so bossy,” you murmur and Remus chuckles as he listens to you start up. “Well, it was pretty long! The meeting-“

He smiles, plopping potatoes in the pot on the stove as he listens to you go on about your day. Remus notices how you lean into him, body preening for his touch even in the humid kitchen.

[minervatheslime]

[iruiji]

SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.

If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).

This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there was 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).

(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.

Context dropped, onto the short HCs.

• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.

• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)

• Xudong was fuming, lmao.

"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"

• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.

• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.

• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄

• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.

• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.

• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.

"Thief!"

The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."

"But you still tried to!"

"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."

Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"

"But-"

This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"

That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.

"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.

"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"

Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.

• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).

• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.

Oh.

You're in SAGAU?

Shit.

"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."

Double shit.

• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.

"I like masks."

Fair enough, they suppose.

• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?

"Ara, and who is this?"

Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.

"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."

"..yo."

She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"

Dont act suspicious. Don't act suspicious.

Nice.

• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:

Yae Miko;

Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);

Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);

Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;

Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).

• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.

• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!

• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.

"Your Grace..?"

Triple shit.

😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?

[ddejavvu]

mei! can you write a little hangman trying to corral and take care of his drunk gf?? im a lil tipsy rn and thinking abt it

tw for mentions of getting sick

"Bradshaw," Jake taps his fellow aviator on the shoulder, two beers in hand, "Where's my girlfriend?"

"Phoenix took her to the bathroom," Bradley informs Jake, "She was feeling a little queasy, I think."

"Shit," Jake groans, shoving both beers into Bob's unsuspecting hands. The WSO blinks bewilderedly, but passes the drinks to Fanboy and Payback when they invite him over to the dartboard.

Jake shoulders his way through the crowd, beelining for the women's restroom and slapping a hand over his eyes before pushing the door open.

"I'm not trying to see anything," He calls out, standing in the doorway, "I just want to know if my girlfriend is in here."

He hears a distressed groan from you to his left, and Phoenix calls out, "It's just us, Hangman. You can come in and open your eyes."

He does as instructed, finding you crouched on the floor inside the third stall. Phoenix is behind you, your hair gathered back into her hands as you hover expectantly over the toilet.

"Nothing yet," Phoenix fills your boyfriend in, "I think it's less about the booze and more about the bottomless fries."

"Gotcha," Jake nudges her away to take her place, swooping your hair up again when it falls over your face, "You've been snackin, huh baby?"

"I didn't eat that many," You swear, but Jake knows practically any amount of the bar's greasy french fries can be vomit-inducing, "I want- I need water."

"I got it," Phoenix heads for the door, "Don't let her eat any more, Hangman!"

Jake's confused until you reach for your purse and retract a napkin stuffed with fries.

"Hey- hey! No," He takes them before you can eat any of them, chucking the handful into the toilet to deter you, "Baby, what are you doing? Those made you sick."

"But they're so good," You lament, "Jake, they've got the garlic salt on 'em, and- and I want more!"

"But they're too greasy for you to handle right now," He smooths a hand down your back, "Baby, you can't eat those when you've been drinkin', that's why we're in here. You can have some on Friday night, m'kay? You can be DD."

"I'm not even sick anymore," You grumble, all of a sudden struggling to your feet. Jake backs out of the stall so that you can stand, but your drunk mind seems to envision a velcro patch covering Jake's chest, and you stick your own matching one to it to throw your arms around his neck.

"I want food," You inform Jake, and he leans in to kiss you despite your beer-breath, "I want something big, and- and greasy, and meaty, and-"

"How about pancakes?" Jake offers, ringing his hands around your waist in case you decide you're going to lean your full weight on him, "We can head to Denny's, it'll only be a five minute drive."

"Do they put garlic salt in their pancakes?" You wonder, gazing at Jake like he's a prophet. He's not, but he thinks he knows the answer anyway.

"Uh," He chuckles slightly, glancing at the door when Phoenix returns, a glass of water in her hands, "I don't think so, darlin'. Here, drink that," He pats your back, releasing his hold on you so that you can take the cup from Phoenix, "All of it, honey, then we'll head for Denny's. Okay?"

"Mhm," You nod around the rim of the glass, the sound echoing slightly as you gulp down the water.

"Takin' her for pancakes," Jake locks eyes with Phoenix, "I'm gonna go get her purse, can you supervise?"

"Hurry up," She nods towards the door, "Fanboy's a nosy drunk, I'm pretty sure he already rooted through her stuff and found a tampon."

"Christ almighty," Jake scoffs, storming out while you chug down the rest of the water in your glass. He does, in fact, find Fanboy seated by your purse, inspecting a plastic-wrapped tampon with bewildered eyes.

"It comes out of the plastic, dipshit," Jake demonstrates, popping the applicator off and stuffing it back on after they've gotten a good look, "Phoenix was right, you are nosy. You wanna inspect her lipstick, too?"

"Oh please, we see that all the time." Rooster drawls, yanking at Jake's collar and revealing a deep pink kiss mark against the base of his neck. The pilot grins beneath his mustache, collecting the coins from your wallet that Fanboy had counted to occupy himself and handing them off to Jake, "Just be lucky he didn't go through your wallet, Hangman, he would have found those nudes you keep in there."

[xblackreader]

SydCarmy Meets The Family <3

>>> The thought of Carmy being introduced to Sydney’s tons of Nigerian Aunties and Uncles is very humorous to me.

“And Here he is! I brought you my boyfriend, Carmen finally. So everyone leave me alone about it.” Sydney starts, once she has hugged everyone.

The ‘Please go easy on my white man’ is silent but they nod. Raising up to shake his hand and her littlest clingy cousin who greets her, stares him down like he’s an alien.

He sticks out like a blonde haired blue eyed sore thumb, but once he’s been greeted and given a general threatening message via all her uncles (in tight jeans and sandals, which lightens the threats) he is told to put down the things they brought in the kitchen.

“Nice firm handshake.” He hears an uncle comment as he leaves and he is elated. It’s small but it’s approval!

Once in the kitchen, the auntie’s crowd to greet him with hugs and get distracted seeing him for the first time, squeezing his muscles and touching his hair.

“Eh… nwa ocha ya di short mana sara mbara…”

“Ma o nwere big muscles!

“No! Yana min kyau! Cute!”

Carmy: “Uh, do… do they like me?”

Sydney: “Oh, they love you. They’re plotting to steal you away from me.”

“Big nose too!”

Carmy: “well… okay, that was English.”

Little cousin, David, walks up to Carmen as he chops vegetables. Pulling a little stool over and standing at his side, wordlessly. He stares first at Carmen himself then the vegetables the white man cuts so effortlessly. Little sticky fingers rise and reach for the knife and Carmen just laughs as he attempts to pry it from much larger stronger hands.

“Can I see?” David asks, confused on why his big cousins boyfriends thinks he’s so funny.

“Unfortunately, this is a knife. Too heavy and sharp for you to use.”

David is heavily offended that he is being underestimated. “I can chop! I chop for Mama everyday!”

“David!” He heard said Mama begins to scold him, “You raise your voice at guests?” David begins to tear up.

“Not at all, Auntie.” Carmen inserts, David cut off from his whine. “He’s just asking if he can help me cut vegetables. I didn’t know he had experience.”

David’s mother melts immediately and confirms that yes, David does chop carrots and garlic for her. “Oh, He’s very smart! Knows how to hold it and everything!”

So Carmen lets David help him ‘chop chop’ keeping a steady hand in his as the little boy is taught new techniques and tricks.

By day’s end, he is smitten with his new weird looking older cousin and makes it plain by crying when it’s time to part. Sydney is so proud that she lets him parade around as the new favorite cousin.

>> And Sydney meeting a couple other “less-than-woke” Berzattos? Older Italian people setting eyes on their introverted little nephew’s girlfriend?

“Che bellezza!” A drunk uncle of his screams almost immediately before Carmen can get her name out.

“Gambe piuttosto lunghe… You guys will have such cute babies!”

“Oh, mixed babies are the cutest!” Donna throws in.

“Ma…” Carmy warns.

“Oh, you’re so WOKE, Carmen. Chill out! She’s givin’ her a compliment!” His Uncle says before turning back to the game.

“Ya mother’s right, Carmen! See, my sista has the cutest little grandchildren! Remember little Joey, Carmen? He went and found himself a black girl too!”

Carmy: “Okay, Aunt Glo, thank you. Can we move o-“

“And they have just beautiful little caramel children! And their hair! Ugh! Ricci e belli!”

Sydney is just nodding and trying not to laugh at how mortified Carmy is. He looks over to her in apology, but none of these comments are particularly too inappropriate and they mean well.

“But she’s skinny…”

“Skin and bones! Let’s feed her then, come with me, sweetheart!”

Sydney: “O-oh, uh…” but her hand is captured and she’s being led into the kitchen to be fed by hand.

She tosses a help look to Carmy and he shrugs with a small smile.

“Hopefully this’ll make your hips wider… The Berzattos have large heads when they’re babies, unfortunately.”

Carmy: “Ma! Cut the baby talk!”

Fin.

[romanarose]

Flannel

Jackson!Joel Miller x gn!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: Joel comes back from patrol with some clothes for you, but doesn't understand the sentimentality of your old one.

Warnings: Uh nothing?

Immersability: Reader is gender neutral bc I saw no reason to have a gender, however, i generally write fem!reader so if I slip up and used a pronoun or something fem presenting, let me know!

**************

"Honey?" You call to your husband downstairs. Joel was cooking dinner. It was getting chilly, even with the generated heat in Jackson, and you wanted to wrap up in your favorite flannel. It was a worn thing, dirty and stained and more than a few patches but it was a comfort to you.

"Hm?" Joel couldn't hear you. His hearing in his bad ear had only gotten worse as he aged, so you hopped your way down the stairs to see him. God he looked good with an apron on.

"Joel, baby, have you seen my flannel?"

He turned to you as he stirred the soup. It smelled amazing. "The one I just brought back? It's on the bed, last time I saw."

Joel had found a box of old winter clothes while looking through houses on an overnight search, and stole a flannel aside just for you earlier this week. It was a great flannel, thick and warm and durable, and you were so, so grateful, but not the one you were looking for.

You shook your head. "No, not that one." Taking out spoon, you sneak a sip of the tomato soup he had been brewing; garlic bread was in the oven.

"Hey." Joel playfully smacked your hand away. "I promised Ellie taste tasting."

"Damn right you did!" Ellie sauntered in, snatching the spoon away as Joel obligatory reminded her of her manners. "Delicous, when's dinner?"

Peeking in the oven, Joel decided the toast was toasty enough and grabbed a oven mitt. "I think right about now." Ellie woops and Joel turns to you. "Sorry darl'n, what was it you were look'n for?"

"My old flannel." You clarify. "I was hanging up last I rememeber."

Joel instructed Ellie to set the table, please and thank you. "Oh that old old thing? I donate it last week after I brought you a new one."

"Donated it? To who? I was falling apart." You begin to panic, heart beating at the thought of your comfort item being gone. Why would Joel do that? You had to get it back.

Looking confused, he set up dinner, even platting up yours and Ellie's soup and bread and a simple salad. "To scraps. You said it yourself, it was falling apart."

"But Joel, why? It was mine."

"Technically, it was mine." Joel tried to joke, but when Ellie cough, he looked to her and she made a face at him. Joel turned to you and saw your forlorn expression, he realized this wasn't a joke. "I'm sorry, baby. I thought you wouldn't need it since I got you a knew one."

"Joel, you can't just give away things that are mine…"

He nodded, setting down the food to give you his full attention. "You're right, darl'n." Joel took you in his arms, kissing your forehead. "I really am sorry, do you forgive me?"

You did, and you told him as much, then tried to sit down for a meal with your family. Joel clocked right away something was wrong, but opted to wait until family dinner was over. When he found you crying in the bedroom, he knew he fucked up, he just didn't understand why. It was just a flannel, a flannel that was useless. In fact, he specifically got the new one for you so that you could get rid of it. Joel thought you deserved the best, and he'd give you the best he could provide.

"Darl'n?" He asked carful as he approached. "What's wrong?"

You sniffle, wiping your eyes. "I'm sorry, I was trying to get it together."

"Is this about the shirt?"

"Yeah."

"But... Why? I'm sorry baby, I know you wanted to keep it... but I don't understand wasting your tears on it?" He cleared his throat. "Not that it's not important, it obvious is, I just don't understand... why?"

You smile at him, knowing he's trying him best. It was sweet, how much effort he put into being a good husband for you and a good dad for Ellie. "Do you remember the day you found me?"

"Clear as day."

It wasn't a fond memory to Joel. He was out on patrol when you came across you, starving and cold and stumbling; he wrapped you up in his flannel and took you on his horse to Jackson, and you never gave it back. To you, the flannel smelled like safety, like home. Wrapped up in its warmth that day, it smelled like Joel and in his arms you knew you were safe.

"That flannel makes me feel safe because it reminds me of you, it reminds me of the day you saved me, it makes me feel safe..."

Joel started carefully. "Darl'n, do you not feel safe?"

You shook your head vehemently, shaking off with it such a notion. "I feel safe, especially with you." Resting your head on his shoulders, you take his scent that comforted you so much. "It's just... I dunno, like a kid with a blanket or teddy, I guess."

Joel nodded. "I'm really sorry, darl'n. Really. I'll check by first thing tomorrow, see if they havn't cut it up and repurposed it yet, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You sniffle, rubbing your face on his shirt but he didn't seem to mind. "And it's okay, you didn't mean anything by it."

*

It was already cut up, to late and too tattered to save in any meaningful way. He let you know, but you didn't seem so upset anymore; Joel had let you pick out a shirt of his to steal from now on, and you had already assumed it was gone.

What you didn't know is Joel had saved the scraps, taking them over to Maria and asking for help. He wasn't a creative by any means, but he did know how to sew a little. Being a single dad on a tight budget he had gotten hang of fixing up holes.

What he didn't know was what to do with the fabric; the final project was Maria's idea. She cut out the pattern for him and gave him the stuffing as well as a place to work away from your eye. When it was done, Joel held it up to her, rather proud. It turned out pretty nice.

*

"Darl'n?! You home?" Joel called a few days later.

"Upstairs, Joel!"

Joel approaches you doing the laundry, wearing the new flannel no less. His hands were behind his back. "I got a surprise you for you."

The broad smile on his face piqued your interest. "Oh?"

With pride, Joel reveals to you a plaid, stuffed, teddy bear.

"Joel..." You speak softly, taking the toy in your hands "Is that...?"

"My shirt? Yes ma'am." He was beaming. "They had already cut it up by the time I got to up, but I was able to save the scraps. Maria helped me with a pattern and we got this put together."

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over quickly. "Oh honey..."

His face flattered. "Oh, was I not supposed to-" You cut him off with a hug, burying you head in the warmth of his chest that had softened in age. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me..."

You slept with the teddy bear in your arms, Joel's arm around you that night. This was even better than a flannel. The flannel would continue to wear and tear, needing to be patched up and cleaned the stains out of. A teddy bear would be there forever.

Just like Joel

*******************

Sweet baby Joel, trying his best <3

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[kdogreads]

Imagine moving in with Carmy

You didn’t really mean for it to happen.

Carmy lived closer to work and most of your friends’ places, so you started staying there if you worked a late night or got too drunk on a Saturday night and didn’t want to Uber all the way home.

You’d call him after the bar closed and nearly give Carm a heart attack:

Baby? Are you alright? What happened, where are you?

Carmyyy, can you pretty pleaaaase come pick me up?

Don’t want to ride all the way home?

No, Carm, it’s so farrrrrrr

S’okay, baby. I’ll be there in 5

You start leaving clothes and shoes there

Just in case you had an early meeting. Or needed something to wear when you two went hiking after work. It could snow in May in Chicago — what if you needed your boots and coat to shovel out your car? All valid points Carmy made to persuade you to leave some stuff at his place.

Of course, Carmy got you your own toothbrush not too long after you started staying over. He made you mean dinners, but neither of you wanted to hang out all night long with onion or garlic breath.

He slowly starts accruing a stash of everything you may need: tampons, ibuprofen, makeup wipes, socks (the no-shows you like), even that sugar-free dairy-free coffee creamer Carmy thought you paid way too much for.

You change your delivery address to his

On everything from Amazon to your monthly makeup subscription, it just makes more sense for it to go to Carm’s. Otherwise it’ll just sit at your apartment’s office for days.

Your mail starts coming there, too, since you put his address down whenever you sign up for anything new.

It doesn’t come up until your lease is almost up

Carm’ll hit you with those sad, puppy dog eyes, sweetly questioning you why you bother to pay for a whole apartment you’re hardly at.

Why don’t you, uh, just stay, stay here?

Are you asking me to move in with you, Bear?

Yeah, yeah I guess I am. Move in with me.

Moving day is pretty simple

Seeing as most of the stuff you need is already at Carmen’s place. Your place.

Marcus, Ebra and Richie all come to help, insisting you didn’t need to hire movers with all that man-power around.

You decide to just sell all your big furniture on Facebook marketplace, aside from a funky chair you couldn’t part with and all of your eclectic art collection.

Carmy gives you free reign to redecorate however you want. He doesn’t have much on the walls to begin with, so you meticulously place every piece of art in its perfect place. Carm doesn’t understand all of it, but he loves it. It makes his empty apartment come to life. It feels like a home for the first time in a long time.

Carmy starts calling it “our place” right away

You still stumble here and there:

I left my jacket at Carmy’s, er, at home this morning.

But Carmy would shout it from the rooftops if he could. He’s so proud to be building a home, a life, with you.

Cousin! Can you stop by our place tonight and help us carry that god-awful futon out to the curb?

The two of you are more comfortable than you’ve ever been before

And you can’t wait to spend every night and every morning with Carmen in your home, the one you’re creating together.