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#sunday special food

timeisacephalopod · 5 months

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Lol out of curiosity I looked up my old job on Indeed and yes they ARE urgently hiring for the position and if I didn't get treated like dog shit for expecting a stress free work environment with reasonable expectations and not wildly cunty management who seemed to be under the impression they were doing THE most important job at THE most important store ever maybe I wouldn't have just not shown up one day 🤷🏻‍♀️ asshole thing to do to my poor coworkers but I didn't even have the energy to quit right after spending a month and a half feeling deeply surveilled at every aspect of my job lest I get another frivolous writeup no one else got for doing their jobs worse than me so fine. You want me gone enough to threaten my livelihood and SHRUG when I point out I have rent to pay, fine, but I wouldn't put up with that behavior from anyone in my life generally and I LIKE those people so my JOB pulling bullshit? Oh hell no, if I wouldn't take it from people I CHOOSE to be around on purpose I ain't taking shit from a fucking JOB. I refuse to be in a work environment that's unaware it's a GROCERY STORE, not a 5 star establishment frequented exclusively by world leaders or some shit. Like Sam, my job is cooking food at a fucking sobeys and you're acting as if I'm disarming bombs it's so important get reasonable priorities and standards for employees and then apply them equally to managers and not EXCLUSIVELY minimum wage staff 🙄

Which is funny because my new job everyone seems surprised with how fast I've caught on to stuff down to a coworker yesterday telling me he thought I worked in a shoppers prior to the pharmacy I'm in because Im catching on so quick. This isn't unusual for me either, some time in the last five or so years I've found every workplace I'm at I end up being heavily relied on because I'm good at my job, so fucking sucks to suck for sobeys because it took me some week or so to be consistently praised for being better at the job than the guy I replaced only for them to throw that out because they think management should be able to do whatever the fuck they want while they shove minimum wage staff under a fucking microscope to ensure they're doing their shit right and even that isn't consistent. They punished me exclusively because I did not lay down to be treated as a door mat and dished the treatment I got handed. If you treat me like shit I WILL treat you the way you treat me, no worse, and sometimes a little better because I don't lose my moral standards in that treatment either. Just because I'm being an ass doesn't mean I'm willing to do whatever the fuck, just enough to ensure that the person who's decided I'm their new plaything knows that'll be going both ways so fuck off. I've never had a job so willing to keep on shit management they had at LEAST a dozen meetings with regarding performance and I was the one who got punished for being frustrated about that. But I will take a new significantly less stressful job 🙌🏻

#winters ramblings #anyway theyre “urgently hiring” and if they listened when the fuck i told them i was so stressed i was clenching my fists #so hard in my sleep my hands would be DEAD STIFF and locked in place in the morning and required me to carefully massage them #and exercise the muscles and even then my hands still hurt. i told them ive been throwing up from stress AND i told them i was job hunting #because this was all bullshit. they KNEW where i was at and they should have listened but they didnt so fine #fuck me around 17 ways to sunday teo can play at that game and i didnt come here to be involved in a game at all #but force me onto that fucking biard then dont get mad when i flip it and walk away #im a grown assed adult i have no patience for workplaces that don't understand youre not a fucking slave #and the workplace isnt something Extremely Important And Special its a cucking GROCERY STORE and i wasnt even workinh #one if the jobs that DOES absolutely make a grocery store necessary i made fucking hot food everyone treated as Top Notch Shit #when ut was frozen boxed chicken strips and ut us INSULTING to me to teach me HOW to cook fucking BOXED FOOD #and NO i did bot take that “”“too personally”“' while they were trying to ”improve“ store standards #its fucking BOXED CHICKEN STRIPS guys why the fuck are we treating it like ROCKET SCIENCE??!?#i dont actually think its unreasonable to be angry your manager cannot even trust you to make food from a fucking BOX #without a chef coming in and treating you like some kind of idiot whohas never made a food in my LIFE despite #me cooking a lot more complicated shit at home on a regular basis. give me a fucking BREAK acting as if #it was StOrE sTaNdArD changes or whatever do YOU nit understand boxed food isnt HARD to make or do you need that explained #to you?? like i take shit too personally no YOU have unreasonable standards for EXCLUSIVELY your lowest wage staff #and im NOT bring held to a higher working standard than MANAGEMENT

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sayruq · 1 month

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The Jerusalem Post said the maritime corridor plan was Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s idea, citing an unnamed “senior diplomatic source.” Netanyahu had reportedly first proposed the plan to Biden in October, and pressed the issue again with the US president in January.“ This source, close to the prime minister, insinuated that Biden was simply implementing a plan by Netanyahu, not actually initiating anything new,” the Post reported. While touring Gaza’s coast in a naval vessel on Sunday, Israeli defense minister Yoav Gallant expressed enthusiasm about the plans of a maritime corridor. “The process is designed to bring aid directly to the residents and thus continue the collapse of Hamas’s rule in Gaza,” he said.

But why would Israel, the engineer of the Gaza famine, endorse the idea of establishing a maritime corridor for aid to address a crisis it initiated and is now worsening? This might appear paradoxical if one were to assume that the primary aim of the maritime corridor is to deliver aid.Palestinians in Gaza received the news about the planned port with fear and suspicion. Analysts have speculated that this could be a ploy to eliminate Egypt as an outlet between the Gaza Strip and the rest of the world, and sever the coastal enclave’s reliance on Egypt economically and politically by way of the Egyptian-controlled Rafah crossing – the sole point of exit and entry for most people in Gaza. This would ostensibly complete Israel’s control of the Gaza Strip without dependence on Egyptian cooperation, reliable as it may have been. Abdel Bari Atwan, a Gaza-born world-renowned Palestinian journalist, invoked the US-facilitated evacuation of thousands of Palestinian guerilla fighters of the Palestine Liberation Organization from Beirut in 1982 as an insight into what these plans could possibly suggest. Palestinian fighters were transferred by US warships off the Beirut coast to Cyprus and eventually to Tunisia. Atwan indicated that the maritime corridor would create a pathway for the forcible evacuation of Palestinians by sea. Other analysts have expressed similar fears.

Michael Fakhri, the UN special rapporteur on the right to food, slammed what he called “absurd” US plans for getting aid into Gaza, whether through airdrops or the temporary port. “From a humanitarian perspective, from an international perspective, from a human rights perspective, it is absurd in a dark, cynical way,” he said. Human rights groups have dismissed announcements of building a temporary pier as a distraction from Israel’s systemic and deliberate policy of starvation of Palestinians in Gaza. “The proposed maritime humanitarian corridor and temporary seaport is another tool to weaponize aid,” the Palestinian refugee advocacy group Badil said. It is meant to “absolve Israel of its responsibilities and obligations, and support Israel in its ‘day after plans’: to eliminate and replace UNRWA [the UN agency for Palestine refugees] and establish a potential mechanism for Palestinian forcible transfer out of the Gaza Strip.”

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza #famine #genocide #gaza genocide #politics #end the occupation

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obsessedelusional · 2 months

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chocolate (smut)

paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary ↬ You’ve been with Eddie for over three years, it’s only natural that the two of you would get comfortable? But are you too comfortable? It’s been nearly a month since you two had sex. When you realize that it sends you into a panic, desperate to find that spark again. You purchase enhancing chocolate and a sexy outfit, as a a surprise. What happens when your plans fall through, causing a argument?

word count ↬ 2.4K

a/n: thank you for all the love on my last eddie one shot, inspired me to finish this.. which if I’m being entirely honest is from a request from well over a year ago and has been sitting unfinished since then.. anyways.. luveeee you

Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ᜊ

Being three years into a relationship things can become stagnant but you always swore that would never happen to your relationship with Eddie. Yet here you two were on your way into the roommate phase. You two too comfortable cohabiting, like a couple of friends sharing a bedroom. A bedroom that hasn’t seen any action in weeks. Three weeks, four days to be exact.

A few day shy of a month is when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sending you into a deep one sided spiral focused on your relationship with Eddie. No one’s to blame, both of your work schedules taking up so much time. Eddie worked Monday through Friday at the local mechanic shop. His weekends usually spent with his band. Between attending college and work, you we’re just as busy.

It was a rare occasion that your schedules aligned to have the same day off. So when a coworker asked to switch days off so they could have Tuesday off and you’d be off on Sunday, you happily agreed. Deciding in that moment you’d do something to reignite the relationship.

After some thought you decided to surprise Eddie with some sexy goodies. A quick trip to the local sex shop and less than a hundred dollars later, you have a bag full of supplies. You decided on a black lace lingerie set that didn’t leave much up to the imagination and aphrodisiac chocolate. Something you have never done with Eddie before. When you get home Eddie isn’t there so you hide your new things saving them for Sunday.

—

“You work today?” Eddie asks curiously, when he comes out of the bathroom to find you sat in the kitchen. Normally by now you were long gone, it’s almost noon and he’s just waking up.

“No someone wanted to switch so I have today off.” You explain, smile plastered across your face. It was Sunday afternoon and you were excited to execute your plans. Eddie moves closer towards you, examining the spread of breakfast you prepared for him.

“What’s all this for?” He asks reaching for a slice of bacon throwing it into his mouth.

“For you. Just wanted to do something special.” You respond, Eddie wraps his half naked body around you enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you baby.” He says face digging into your shoulder, smelling your hair. He pulls away just far enough to brush it out of the way. Moving in again, kissing up your neck. You have so much pent up sexual frustration you’re ready to say fuck this food and your entire plan, ready to let Eddie take you right then and there.

Before you can take it to the next level, he pulls away completely. Grabbing a plate and serving himself the food you prepared. Eddie doesn’t notice the exaggerated eye roll you give just sits down at the table, filling his face.

“This is delicious,” he mumbles between chewing bringing a smile back to you. You join him with your own plate, sitting next to him. He does the silly little thing he’s always done, dragging your chair with you in it closer to him. He looks proud when your close enough to his liking, going back to the meal in front of him. You eat filled with contentment that after all these years he still does the tiny things still.

“Any plans for today?” You ask. Eddie looks up from a his plate like he’s thinking.

“Yeah the bands meeting at two to practice for a few hours.” He says, your face tells on you falling into a frown.

“I promise as soon as we’re done. You’ll have my full undivided attention all night, okay?” He does his best to reassure you but you can’t help but feel irritated and it’s apparent in your demeanor.

“Is there something else you wanted to do today?” He asks, confused by your sudden change in mood.

“I had a surprise for you but I’ll guess it’ll wait.”

“What was it?” He asks.

“It can wait... You can find out when ever you decide to come home.” You respond, the annoyance heavy in your tone.

“Whatever.” He laughs causing an unreasonable amount of anger to flood over you.

“Whatever? I just wanted to do something for us today.” You raise your voice standing up in the process, leaving Eddie sat alone at the table. He lets out an defeated groan, you ignore it. Heading straight to your bedroom. Suddenly the apartment feels too small wishing you could escape somewhere else. Crawling into bed, hiding under the covers letting the frustrated tears fall.

—

You’re not sure how much time has passed, you had fallen asleep after you and Eddie’s little tiff. The sound of someone entering the room is what stirs you, the feeling of Eddie climbing into bed next to you is what fully wakes you. He slips through the covers, finding you and cuddling with you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You roll over to face him, he looks genuinely upset.

“I’m sorry too.” You sigh. Eddie goes to talk but you cut him short by speaking up.

“I just wanted to do something special for you because we’ve basically turned into roommates.”

“Baby that’s not true.”

“It is Eddie. We haven’t had sex in almost a month.”

“No it hasn’t been…” His voice trails off trying to remember the last time, drawing a blank.

“It’s no one’s fault, we’re both just busy. I was so excited to spend today with you, I should have told you beforehand not just expected you.” You say, holding back tears. Eddie has started lightly tracing the side of your face listening to you speak.

“The insecure part of me has been spiraling for the last week, thinking the worst. That maybe we haven’t done anything because you don’t want me anymore.” As you talk the tears slowly trickle out from your eyes, landing on your pillow. Eddie wipes away at your tears before responding, pulling you in closer in the process.

“That is far from the case, baby. I love you so much. I’ve been working so much and focusing on the band. I forgot to prioritize you.” He pulls you all the way, slipping an arm under you hugging you tightly. Placing a sweet kiss on your head.

—

After a much needed conversation that lasted a solid hour, Eddie and you were still laid in bed. Topic had moved on to something less heavy. Eddie was now sat up in bed, you resting your head in his lap while he plays with your hair. You had just found out that he skipped practice because he felt so shitty.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m glad I did. This was needed. Plus how will I ever get my surprise, huh?” You shake your head no feeling as if the moments been ruined.

“Come on just tell me what it was.” He begs, you push up from his lap to see his face. His big brown puppy eyes on full display, bottom lip pouting. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You groan before getting out of bed and heading straight to the drawer where you hid the goodies. In a swift motion you pull out the plastic bag, tossing it at Eddie. He catches it pulling out the items inside.

“This isn’t gonna fit me.” He jokes, holding the lingerie by a single strap. You roll your eyes before snatching it out of his hands. He continues digging through the bag finding the special chocolate.

“Chocolate?” He asks confused.

“It’s enhancing chocolate.” His face is still full of confusion.

“It’s suppose to stimulate blood flow, enhances performance.” You explain watching as Eddie reads over the box.

“What are we waiting for?” He asks, ripping open the package. Before you can protest he plops his half in his mouth, passing you the other half. You follow in his lead eating the chocolate.

“How long does it take?” Eddie asks, examining the box further.

“20 to 40 minutes? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” He says throwing the box the side, looking up at you. Eyes going from the lingerie to your face, his grin growing.

“We can start with you putting that on.” Eddie suggests.

A few long minutes later, you come out of the bathroom dressed in your new lingerie. His eyes find you, muttering ‘fuck’. He stands up from the bed approaching you. Once he’s a few inches away from, his hands find your hips. Letting himself explore your body in this new outfit. Tracing the lacey undergarment with his hands.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts your face before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You return the kiss, you fingers reaching behind his neck. Finding his hair and tangling them in the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. Just enough to elicit a small moan from his lips.

You two are twisted together, without breaking the kiss he begins to take a few steps back. You follow as he sits on the bed, climbing into his lap. Pushing him till he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. You’re eager, ready to take it farther kissing down his neck. Lowering your body, pressing delicate kisses along his torso as you go.

Eddie watches closely as you pull his bottoms off, lifting his hips and helping you to get him undressed. As soon as he’s fully nude, your making yourself comfortable inbetween his legs.

“How do I know it’s the chocolate and not what you’re doing that has my dick so hard?” He questions, making you roll your eyes laugh in softly.

“Shh..” You respond, taking his erection in your hand pumping it slowly.

When he doesn’t shut up trying to press the question again, you kiss his tip before licking the crown of his cock. That shuts him up, watching your lips part around him. Your head moving up and down. Eddie lets his moans out as his tip hits the back of your throat. His eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when your hand starts to play with his balls.

“F-fuck!” Eddie groans as he gently pushes your head lower, enjoying the sight of his cock dissaprering into your throat.

A mess of your saliva pools at the base of his cock. He holds you there for a few moments, tears forming at your eyes until he lets go. You quickly lift your head, a long web of drool hangs from your lips to his cock. You make eye contact wipe it away then use that hand to pump him again.

Before you can continue, he’s guiding you up his body. Kissing your swollen and slick lips. Your core rests on his wet cock, you don’t waste a moment grinding your hips. Both of you moan into the kiss at the friction. His cock slips through your folds, hitting your clit. It feels too good and he hasn’t even entered yet. You’ve been waiting too long for this, so you raise your hips. He takes the hint aligning himself with your hole. You sink down slowly, inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping your hips. The feeling of being filled is overwhelming. The stretch is a bit paniful but in the best way possible. You look down at Eddie before moving your hips at a steady pace. Both of you moaning, his grip tightening leaving marks in their wake. Guiding your hips to move faster.

Your pace quickens, taking him deeply. Every inch of him plunging into your warmth. You’re too distracted by the sensation to notice him pulling you closer. Eddie hungrily kissing you, his tongue asking for permission by sliding against your lips. Your mouth opens, tongues meeting each other. Without any warning Eddie’s hips thrust into you. A moan breaks the kiss, as he continues to jerk himself into you. His movements matching yours. It stops for a moment only because Eddie is rolling over on top of you.

“Get on your knees, I want to fuck you from behind.” He demands and you gladly listen. Positioning yourself infront of him, your ass up and face down.

Eddie take his cock, pushing it in one quick thrust. Watching as he disappears into your hole. He’s pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your whimpers grow louder as he fucks you at a brutal pace. The sensation of his balls hitting your clit adds to the pleasure.

You’re gripping the sheets, pushing back against his thrusts. Eddie grabs a fist of your hair, pulling it. Tears swell at your eyes, it hurts so good. As you bite your lip, he continues his pace. Fucking you so roughly. Your body begins to tremble as you get closer to your finish, letting Eddie know your close. That what he is doing is working.

You disolve into pleasure, your body becoming putty as he keeps pounding into you. A chocked sob leaves your mouth as you come undone. Your walls spasm bringing Eddie closer to his end. With a few more jerks of hips he’s coming, panting your walls with his seed. He releases your hair, kissing your shoulder tenderly. He pulls out, dropping onto his back. You lay down next to him. Your chests heaving as you both try to breathe.

“How long is it supposed to last?” Eddie asks so you reach for the box.

“Uh… effect could last up to three hours.” You read out loud.

“I feel like I could go again.” He admits, looking down at his erection.

“Yeah?” You ask eagerly.

“Mhmm we have to make up for lost time.” He says, facing you bringing his lips to your chest. Nibbling softly on your skin.

“But I think it’s only fair I taste you this time.” He whispers, kissing down your stomach and to your core.

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luvring · 3 months

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IS THAT ALL?

gn!reader | 900ish words, really just fluff despite the opener ^___^

megumi fushiguro considers himself a coward.

it’s sunday, 10:00am bright on the clock behind you. wings flap outside as the birds that like to adorn the neighbour’s fruit tree caw, and the blanket is pulled up to his chest, up to your cheeks.

your face is only a few inches away, and all he can think about—besides the curl of your lips as you smile at him again—is whether his breath still smells like mint from brushing his teeth the night before. whether you can see his skin breaking out on his temple and forehead, or the scar on his jaw from falling when he was seven—if you’d notice them after he said the three words that’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for weeks.

because megumi’s realized he can do a lot of things, plan more, fight even more, but it all crumbles apart when it comes to you.

“why are you staring at me?”

“i’m not,” he answers too quickly, muttered as he looks to the pillow underneath your head instead of your eyes.

you squish your face further into it to meet his gaze again. “is there something on my face?”

“no.”

“is there food stuck in my teeth?”

“we haven’t even had breakfast.”

“because if i turn on my phone and see either of these things, i’m going to be very angry with you, megumi fushiguro.”

the sound of his name draws him back to you, your squinting eyes and frown that holds no anger.

his lip twitches up, only just. “there’s nothing on your face or in your teeth.”

you hum, keeping your accusatory facade, even while reaching for his hand beneath the blanket. “swear i don’t look bad?”

megumi’s fingers easily slide into place between yours.

you could never look bad.

he huffs. “seriously?”

“‘seriously’? oh, wow, forgive me, my dear, for not believing your plainly spoken words while you still won’t tell me why you’re staring.” you ruffle his hair and push strands to cover his eyes. he rolls them as he pulls up the collar of your shirt to muffle your laugh.

it’s a lovely sound.

he hopes you let him hear it again and again.

a bird caws at the same time you swat at his hand and the hold on your shirt loosens, his fingers moving to smoothen the evidence.

“you just look nice.” he finally says as his eyelids droop, and he lets himself look at your lips for a fraction of a second. “that’s all.”

you smile and ignore the heat in your ears. “that’s all?”

the words claw at him again, and his throat constricts the same time his stomach ties into a knot.

it should be something special, megumi thinks—saying it out loud for the first time.

maybe at a fancy restaurant, with candles and expensive meals between you, his best suit on, quiet jazz and clinking glasses in the background.

maybe outside somewhere, in a nice meadow or under a tree, a picnic blanket sitting underneath you.

maybe after a long-winded monologue of how his curiosity grew to infatuation, a crush, something more. after he’s told you he wishes he could spend every morning with you, turn to you when the neighbour’s kids laughing and screaming wakes you up in place of an alarm on a saturday, watch you playfully groan and complain about today’s youth.

after he’s laid his heart out to you, instead of now, a random sunday morning, as the sound of cawing and birdsong fills the space between you instead of his voice, and all the words he wants to say before the three.

he wonders how long he’s been silent when you scrunch your brows and confusion shifts your smile. “hello? earth to megumi?”

“i love you.”

and across megumi’s face, there’s a fleeting shadow as a bird flies past—the blue of his eyes darkening, but not hardening, never hardening—not while looking at you.

you blink at him.

he blinks back.

the birds caw loudly outside.

and it’s all he can do to not bite his lip, to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest as you open and close your mouth—a sensation that he usually comes to you for to get rid of.

you blink again, twice, three times, and a different three words find their way to the tip of his tongue at the sight, heavier than the last, a little more strained.

but then you smile, just like always.

let out a laugh of disbelief that makes his apology disappear.

your reply comes as a murmur, it flows over him and muffles the noise outside, easing the clawing at his gut with expertise—“i love you, too.”

and it really is a random morning; megumi couldn’t tell you the date if you asked. but your grip on his hand tightens, and he promises to write it down (sunday, 10:07am) when you both get up.

he lets all his tension loosen as he finally smiles back.

your own smile widens into a bright grin at the sight, and though his mind’s reeling, he can hear what you’re going to ask before you do—

“is that all?”

it’s silly, and megumi almost rolls his eyes, almost pulls the blanket over your head and threatens to take it back,

and he loves you.

even, and especially as he hears the neighbour’s door creak open, and the first sound of the kids yelling—as he pinches your cheek and snickers when you let out a surprised noise. “that’s all.”

noo nia don't make something that's supposed to be big happen in a mundane warmth again nooo don't make another guy completely in love w reader noooo... does i'm sorry technically count as three words btw. lol? well. obviously totally unrelated but i'm hungry as fawk rn. goodbye everybody i'm gonna eat toast. yaaaaayy!!!

🏷️ | @danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @sleepyxxhead @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage @leiiii-i @chocopuchino

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #i have conflicting feelings over this But if i stare at it longer or let it sit in my drafts i Will set it on fire #hopefully im asleep when this posts. honk shoo....

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unnerd · 2 years

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Places you should add to your little town/city in your fantasy world!!

Post offices. Wild, I know. But give me the unhinged kind. Pingeons and little postal dragons all over the place. You enter. The most disgusting smell fucking assaults your nostrils. You know what it is. Letter in hand, you go up to the counter. The postal worker is just a slightly bigger pigeon. You shed a tear.

PLAYGROUNDS!! Create the most dangerous kinds of playgrounds, the ones suburban moms would TRIP if they ever saw one. Monkey bars that are way too tall, swings that go full circle... The metal slide stays the same, it's already painful enough.

PARKS!! MAKE IT ALIVE!! Show people going on walks, reading beneath trees. C'mon most of them are already hundred years old (And are going to die after that CR 15 creature wrecks the town) anyways!! Show couples and picnics, show a family enjoying the sunday, give me someone picking flowers for their loved ones.

A bakery! Do you know how much these places are underrated? And do you know how much plot potential they have? Every good story starts with food poisoning or granny's recipe! Give me a place your players/readers are going to treat like home and, for once, it's not a tavern or a guild.

Government buildings! Give me a town hall that has a kilometric line in front of it. Give me a registry that is as old as this town. Give me police stations! Give me courtrooms! Make one of your players get arrested and now all of the party has to go through burocracy like a bunch of normal people!

(Who am I kidding? You don't need to make them get arrested. They are going to do that for you.)

Touristic attractions! Give me a full-on statue of the country's leader! Give me museums! Give me streets, ruins and whatnot that attract thousands of tourists everyday! Give me an annoying city guide that tries to get the party's attention everytime!

Magazine stands! Magazines don't exist? Newspaper stands! From the Queen's Journal to the most questionable new piece of Fox's Tailtracker, you have it all! Make your players doubt what's actually happening, sprinkle a little fake news... Or is it fake at all?

...Toy stores. OK HEAR ME OUT. Make magic toys; miniature skyships that actually fly, metal toy dragons that expel fire, little wands that make little light spells, wooden creatures that can move and make noises... Make children happy! And your players too because they will waste their money on these stuff.

Instrument store!! Make your bards happy with special instruments or just weird ones! Give me a battle in one of those that is just filled with funny noises and the worst battle soundtrack ever!!

Not exactly a place but... Cleaning carts!!! Show me people cleaning the streets, picking up the trash, cutting trees!! Make the town look clean!! Give me an old man that is really proud of his work!!!

(or ways to make your players feel even worse when the villain destroys the town later on :) )

#dnd #dnd ideas #d&d 5th edition #d&d memes #tabletop games #dungeonsanddragons #npc ideas #dnd homebrew #campaing ideas #gm guide #worldbuilding #worldbuilding prompts #critical role #5e #ttrpgs #homebrew

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thebimbopalace · 11 days

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ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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futureman · 9 months

Text

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

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

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

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

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

SUNDAY

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

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Wait. She’s leaving?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THURSDAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you could say that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Together. You’re in this together.

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

FRIDAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you want, baby."

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

Now, you want something else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should ya be doin' that right now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

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

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

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And still so mouthy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SATURDAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh?" you ask dumbly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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roosterforme · 2 months

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Deployment Sucks but I Swallow | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was used to having your undivided attention when he was about to leave for a long deployment, because you'd been spoiling him that way for years. When you spent the day with your friends and got home late instead, he wanted to be annoyed, but everything you do is just too sweet.

Warnings: Fluff, language, oral, Rooster loves getting blowjobs from his wife, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

"Seriously?" Bradley muttered as he sat on his living room couch all alone with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. This was his last night at home for the next four months, and you should have been here with him. You said you were having a late Sunday brunch with some friends and then coming home, but now it was dinnertime. He would be boarding an aircraft carrier tomorrow, Valentine's Day, at five in the morning, and he wouldn't be home until June. And yet you were still out with your friends while he stared at the enormous bouquet of roses on the coffee table that he got for you.

Every time he took a sip of his beer, the flash of his gold wedding band made him even more irritated. You'd never been like this in the past. Even before you and he got married, you would make a big fuss over him for several days leading up to his departure. He'd gotten used to that special treatment. He literally thrived when you used to run your fingers through his hair and tell him over and over again how much you were going to miss him the night before he left. And now that you weren't here in his lap, loving all over him, he was actually kind of pissed off about it.

He dug his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and tried his best not to be too snarky when he texted you again.

Do you think you'll be home soon?

He waited twenty-one minutes for a response as the sky outside darkened even more and his patience waned further. "You're spoiled," he admitted out loud. But it was completely all your fault, because you'd overindulged him with your love for so long that now he was pouting when you finally wrote back.

On my way! I'll pick up dinner!

He groaned. If you were going to stop for food, it would take you even longer to get here, but he hadn't made anything, because he thought you'd have been home hours ago. So he texted you back the one thing that he knew would get his irritation across.

Fine.

But even that didn't seem to do anything, because you were all smiles when you floated through the front door thirty-four minutes later with a cardboard box in one hand and a bag from his favorite takeout place in the other. And you looked to damn gorgeous, he felt his resolve slipping.

"Sorry I'm so late!" you said with a laugh. "I had such a long day."

Bradley tracked your movements from the couch with narrowed eyes. "Yeah. Me too. I thought you'd be home five hours ago."

"I completely lost track of time," you told him as your eyes settled on the roses. "Are those for me?"

"Happy Valentine's Day," he mumbled with a shrug, annoyed by the way his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him like he was your only source of happiness in the world. But he couldn't bite his tongue as you set the box down and brought the food over to him with a smile. "What did you do after brunch? You were gone forever."

You nibbled on your lip as you ran your finger along one of the rose petals. "I was hanging out with Erika Fitch and Morgan Floyd for a little bit. We went to Erika and Reuben's house. I'm really sorry it took so long."

Bradley wanted to keep pouting and being cranky, especially since it sounded like Payback got to see more of you on Bradley's last day before deployment than he did. But when you bent to smell the flowers before dropping the takeout bag onto the table, you moaned his name softly before easing yourself down onto his lap.

"Baby," he whispered, melting into your touch as soon as your fingers were in his hair. And then your lips found his, and he wasn't sure why he'd been so upset with you. You felt perfect in his arms, and you smelled sweet.

"I love you, Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his nose against your neck and inhaled.

"You smell so fucking good," he moaned. "So sweet. Like candy. Delicious."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, raking your fingers back through his hair. "Or did you just miss me all day?"

"Baby, you know I'm spoiled," he groaned as you reached for his jeans zipper. "I wanted to spend the afternoon with you. I'm leaving tomorrow. For four months this time."

"I know. I didn't give you enough attention today, did I?" you whispered as you eased the zipper down. "I'm really, really sorry. I wanted to, but I got sidetracked making you something sweet. I always want to be with you on your last day at home."

He kissed along your neck and breathed in the incredible scent again. "You made me something sweet? You smell like something sweet. Makes me want to taste you everywhere."

Bradley could hear the smile in your voice as he licked your collarbone while you eased your hand inside his underwear and wrapped your hand around his cock. "Your dinner will get cold if you don't eat it now," you whispered.

"I don't care. I want my wife."

You moaned his name again, and that sweet scent was everywhere. "Then take me to bed, Lieutenant Bradshaw." Bradley's senses were filled with you as he carried you into the bedroom, and he swore he could smell chocolate as he undressed you. Your skin was extra sweet, and the scent clung to your hair.

"I don't know how you've made me this crazy for you," he whispered as he yanked his shirt off, "but I swear you smell like chocolate. Everywhere."

You giggled as you started to pull his jeans down, kneeling in front of him. "I know it's your favorite kind of snack."

"Incorrect," he grunted as you licked his cock before he stepped out of his pants and underwear. "My wife is my favorite kind of snack."

You took him between your parted lips and sucked on him like a lollipop before you whispered, "You're allowed dessert before dinner tonight."

Then Bradley had you underneath him in bed, your hands pinned to the pillow above your head as he licked your neck. "Next time I'm leaving, I want you with me all damn day. No brunch. No hanging with the girls."

You moaned his name as he slipped himself inside your wetness. "Anything you want. Anything."

He pressed his lips to yours as he filled you completely. "I want you."

--------------------------

Leaving the house with you at four in the morning on Monday was hard enough for Bradley, but the way you clung to him in the Bronco while he drove was making it so much worse. You had that box you brought home with you yesterday at your feet while he steered through the silent darkness.

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered as the aircraft carrier came into view. "Four months is such a long time."

He was just happy you got home at dinnertime last night and let him love you nonstop. He hadn't stopped touching you long enough to reheat his dinner until almost midnight, and even then, you were nearby. Right now he was exhausted, but he'd have ample time to catch up on sleep when he didn't have his perfect wife with him.

"These four months are going to suck," he whispered as he parked near the docks, happy he'd given himself extra time to hold you before he had to board the carrier. "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby." When you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward his lap, he groaned. "You still smell like chocolate."

"Do I?" you whispered with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

With his nose buried in your hair, he asked, "Is it a new perfume or something? Because I definitely don't hate it."

Your soft laughter filled the interior of the Bronco as you shook your head. "No, it's not perfume. It's actually chocolate. I told you I made you something sweet."

Bradley was nibbling on your ear, his cock twitching in his khakis as your thigh pressed against his length. "What did you make?" he mumbled mindlessly, but then you were pulling away from him. He was scrambling to keep you in his lap where he wanted you, but you were leaning down to grab the box from the floor. You set it on the passenger seat and smiled at him as you reached inside.

"I made you candy bars," you said, handing him a thick piece of sweet smelling chocolate that was wrapped up in clear plastic. "Sixteen of them. One for each week that you'll be gone."

Bradley examined the candy in his hand and smiled as he looked up at you. "It says World's Best Husband on it."

"That's because you are," you told him, kissing his cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'm going to miss you so much."

He was sure he was starting to blush in the predawn darkness as you handed him another one that said I'm So Sweet On You. "Oh," he whispered. "Erika and Morgan helped you make these yesterday, didn't they?"

"Yes," you told him as he tipped the box to look inside at the rest. They were all unique with white candies used for the lettering. He picked up one that said I Love Rooster and another that said Thinking About You.

"I love these, Baby. Thank you," he muttered as he kissed your chin. "I'm sorry I got snippy with you last night."

You ran your fingers through his hair just the way he liked and said, "The girls and I didn't think it would take so long to make them. I wanted to be home with you all day yesterday. I promise."

He wrapped his left arm around you and pulled you snug against him as he pulled one more candy bar out of the box. When he read it, he smirked and held it up for you to read, too. His voice was deep as he asked, "Did you really make me a candy bar that says Deployment Sucks but I Swallow? In front of the girls?"

You bit your lip and wiggled yourself around on his lap, clearly knowing what that would do to him. "Reuben and Bob saw it too. I've never seen Bob blush so much in my life."

Bradley's cock throbbed against you, somehow even more turned on by the fact that his friends knew you were thinking about sucking him dry. "Fuck," he grunted, running his thumb over the letters that spelled out his dirty Valentine's Day message. He glanced around and found that while other cars had started to arrive, it was still pretty dark outside. So he looked you in the eye with one eyebrow raised and rasped, "Why don't you prove it?"

You took the bar from him and set it back in the box with the others. "Right here?" you asked, running your hands down his khaki shirt and over his pins as you leaned in closer to him. Your lips were skimming the scars on his neck as you added, "Right now?" But he could tell you were absolutely into the idea as your fingers found his belt while you kissed your way up to his ear. "I would love to."

You were moaning softly as you opened the fly of his uniform pants and carefully pulled his hardening length free. Bradley eased the seat back as you worked your familiar hand slowly up and down his length, making him jump in anticipation as he kissed your lips. Another car parked directly across from him, and you were illuminated by headlights as you moved the box from the seat back to the floor and ducked down.

"Fuck," he grunted, tucking his hands behind his head as the headlights went out and your lips met his cock. "God, you're such a good girl." You were stretched across the seat on your belly, and he could already tell you were going to take your time, just like he wanted. There was a full thirty minutes left with you after all. The Bronco smelled like chocolate, and your mouth was warm around him as he whispered, "Nice and slow."

You moaned in agreement, nodding your head as you took him deeper and deeper. Bradley's head tipped back as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. You dragged your thumb down gently between his balls as he tapped the back of your throat, and you held him in place for a few beats. Now he was starting to doubt that he could last as long as he wanted to when you felt this incredible. He felt you gag softly as you started to ease back, and he could see stars at the edges of his vision.

"Holy shit."

When you withdrew him, he could feel your saliva dripping down his length onto his pants. You licked at his tip and rubbed soft circles along his balls with your fingertips. You knew just how he wanted it, and he was like melted chocolate in your capable hands and mouth.

When you popped him free, your voice was soft and needy. "You better think of this when you eat that candy bar," you whispered, glancing up at him as his length rubbed your cheek.

Bradley let one hand drift down to the back of your neck. "I always think about you, but I'll be thinking about this on replay, Baby. Sweet chocolate and blowjobs from my wife."

You giggled as you took him between your lips again, and the soft vibrations had him thrusting up for more. His fingers were digging into your neck a little bit as he tried to get control of himself while you bobbed. Someone walked past the Bronco as he moaned, but he literally couldn't care less. The back of your head had never looked so appealing before as you got sloppier, every thrust met with wet sounds that only made him throb.

He was gripping his own hair now as well while you pushed his hips back against the seat. "Baby," he whined as you treated him to the swirl of your tongue at the base of his cock. "I'm gonna miss you."

You nodded and moaned again, and Bradley reached out to grip the steering wheel in an effort to keep himself still while you worked your magic. With every tap of his cock against the back of your throat, his balls tightened until it was almost painful. "No, no, no," he whispered. "Not yet."

You responded by slowing your pace incrementally, dragging your lips along his full length and sucking until he popped free. "But you taste so good," you whispered up at him with a grin. "I want you to come in my mouth."

He shook his head, mesmerized by you as you nuzzled your face against his cock and balls. "Jesus," he groaned, reaching for the back of your head and stroking your hair. "You wanna taste me?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed loudly in the small space as he shoved his cock between your lips.

"You better swallow it all down," he grunted. "Just like you promised."

With your hands wrapped around his base, you squeezed him gently, sucking just right as you ran your tongue back and forth. He was grunting unintelligibly, hips jerking off the seat slightly as his head fell back against the headrest.

"That's my girl. That's my girl," he whined, doing his best to keep his hand gentle against your head as you took him right up to his orgasm. Then you removed your hands, and as soon as you took him deep, your lips brushing his pubic hair and his balls, he came. "Baby!" he moaned, thrusting gently as you sputtered. He didn't want you to waste it. He wanted you to get every single drop.

Bradley tipped his head forward and watched you swallow him down as you made sweet little sounds, the smell of the chocolate bars still in the air. You licked around his tip and cleaned him up as your gaze met his, and Bradley whispered, "I love you so much," as he caught his breath.

"I love you, too," you promised him as he pulled you back up to sit on his lap. Bradley tasted his cum in your mouth when he kissed you and cradled you against his body. "I'll miss you like crazy, and I'll be living for your calls. And I can't wait to spoil you when you get home again."

You kissed him all over his face as he whispered, "I love how much you've spoiled me. I'll be thinking about you nonstop, Baby."

A few minutes later, Bradley wiped away your tears and kissed your cheeks one last time before he boarded the aircraft carrier, and he watched you disappear into the distance with the dock as the sun rose behind you. He had one candy bar for every week he'd be away from you, and he couldn't wait to read the rest of them once he got to his bunk.

----------------------------

You were waiting very impatiently on the dock for your husband to join you on dry land once again. Your palms were sweating as you held onto two candy bars all wrapped up in plastic, hoping they wouldn't melt too badly. You texted him to let him know where you were standing, and now you just had to wait. And wait. You'd already gone four months without him, so this was just cruel.

Every facetime call had been the highlight of your week while he was away. Bradley had been sure to tell you which candy bar he'd enjoyed that week, laughing about what you'd written on all of them. One time, he even ate the bar that said Hottest Guy in the Navy on it while he talked to you.

You couldn't wait to take him home and spend days catching up with everything you and he had missed while you were apart. But first you needed to be in his arms. Then you heard him calling your name, and you almost dropped the candy bars as your husband made his way toward you.

"Bradley!" you shouted, and then you were in his arms, and his lips were on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to drop his treats. "I missed you!"

"I love you, Baby," he rasped, kissing his way back to your ear. "How the hell do you still smell like chocolate?" he asked, and you erupted into giggles.

"Because I made you more candy bars," you told him as you found his lips with yours again.

He kissed you until you were breathless, and then he pressed his nose to your cheek as he said, "I'm so damn spoiled. What did you make for me this time?" You smiled and held up the two candy bars, and he read them out loud. "I still suck.... Want me to prove it?"

Bradley's brown eyes went wide, and his crooked grin left you giddy. "Well?" you asked. "Should we go home so you can find out for sure?"

"Hell yes," he whined, hauling you and his bag and the candy toward the parking lot. "My deployment sucked, but you suck so much better, Baby."

----------------------------

Happy Valentine's Day! It's not my favorite holiday personally, so I thought I'd make Bradley stress a little bit. Make sure you hug an aviator today! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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deonsx · 8 months

Text

If They Need You

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: obscene speech

Dazai Osamu

Dazai He often annoys you at work so after a while you get used to it, he has no shame he constantly exposes you to lewd words in front of his coworkers

He frowns when you're angry with him and whispers manipulated words in your ear with puppy dog eyes that you can never reject

But this workday was different from the others, dazai was constantly making strange noises and wouldn't turn his gaze from you. you realized that and you ignored him finally it was lunch break and everyone went out but you didn't finish the files so you need to stay, with dazai

You thought you would continue to ignore him like it was during the day and you got up and went to get water a hand tightly around your waist pulled you to him "dazai! what the hell are you doing, we are at work" he ignored it and left kisses on your neck

"I need you" you felt a hardness as he hugged you tighter from behind "You realize we're at work and when we get home-" he didn't wait for you to finish andhe quickly picked you up and tossed the papers on the table and put you there

Why did you suddenly think he was acting like a stray animal but he didn't give you time to think, you stopped him "osamu we're at work and break is almost over" he took a long breath "then we'll do it otherwise" you raised an eyebrow as he said that "how so?" you asked. he went and sat in his chair, his eyes still on you

"Get Under The Table And Be A Good Girl For The Day Bella"

Chuuya Nakahara

The only day your boyfriend was available and with you was Sunday, and this time you wanted to spend the night at restaurant

Normally you wouldn't prefer places like this, but you wanted to have fun with him so you went to his favorite place for wine, the food and drinks came as usual, but the waiter asked if we wanted the drinks special this time, chuuya turned his eyes to the drink "Special?" the waiter nodded, "A hot special wine for you?

"Have you tried before?" The waiter asked the question with a warm smile, you answered "no? does it taste good?" the waiter nodded happily, chuuya must have liked this service, he said happily on his face "give us your hot special wine" That's how it all started the drinks were put on the table you both drank

and as soon as 5 minutes passed, you felt a warmth and hesitated but your boyfriend asked for 2 more glasses in a row and then the same thing must have happened to him as his eyes and face turned red "hot.." he whispered "I think now I understand why it's mulled wine" you muttered chuckling and you gave him advice "you shouldn't have drunk so much, honey" he lifted his head from the table and his eyes focused on you like a hungry animal "Go in the back room and wait for me" he told you in a serious tone

he didn't speak any more he obviously gave you orders you hesitated to get up but you got up and walked into the private room in the restaurant and sat on the bed made with red patterns before long chuuya arrived. You heard him lock the door behind him

“Undress My Love"

Ranpo Edogawa

You and your boyfriend were returning from a tired business trip, and he was talking to himself while eating his desserts and complaining that he couldn't touch you even once during his work vacation

He couldn't touch you because whenever he tried it, it was like there was a constant glitch Calls, Doorbells, Tasks, you couldn't do anything because of them, even at midnight you were tired and you were sleeping, the vacation was only 3 days and now you are driving the car and he is too He was expressing his anger

Of course, he was saying all this with a joke. After a short silence, ranpo pointed to a visible gas station with his hand "We have gas, my love" Ranpo smiled when he said this, "I have to buy something from the market" he prepared while saying "I'm waiting in the car"

The roads were so dark, the gas station lights were dim and gray so you couldn't see much around you parked the car and your boyfriend got out of the car fast

While you were waiting for him, you looked outside, you thought it must be a coincidence that there is a completely deserted grass and a gas station in nature

You unlocked your door with a knock and let your boyfriend open the door, you got up from your seat to look at what he was holding. "Condom??" "Just like that my love it's been a long time" he hissed as his eyes narrowed slightly

“How About You Take The Back Seat And Give Me A Nice Feast?”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

The man who is both your boss and your boyfriend at the same time, you do whatever he says, of course, this is valid during business hours

He gave you a mission but there was a glitch in the mission and now someone who works for fyodor just like you was scolding you, your relationship was secret so no one would have guessed it

The man was scolding you "It's really not wise to give such a job to such a woman" he talked again "You're stupid, you're useless, why are you in this job? Fyodor, why did our boss hire a prostitute like you? Or do you have something else?" he grinned and his hand reached out to you everything happened in the blink of an eye blood was everywhere

You saw your boyfriend coming from the shadows as the man's body crashed to the ground "I'm guilty of hiring someone like this next time you see someone like that know you're allowed to kill"

He slowly put his hand on your waist and took his steps towards the exit to get you away from there. "Fedya, the glitch on duty-" “shhh It doesn't matter, I have another request from you, my dear”

You left your office and walked in the dark street "It was a tiring day my love" his white skinned eyes illuminate the night telling you "You're kind of happy with that tone of voice" The man smiled "Of course I am" his grin widened he pulled you into the alley and quickly picked you up

“Open Your Legs For Me Only, My Dear”

Nikolai Gogol

You were also involved in your Boyfriend's Important Mission and your scene has already ended and you've been waiting for him

You were waiting at the hotel he hired for you. While waiting for him, you looked at some of your clothes in the closet. A really nice dress with red above the knee, thin sleeves and a really nice dress. You were getting ready for your job interview tonight. You opened your hair and waved it with tongs

You were waiting for Nikolai, after he finished his job and informed you, you were going to go to your job interview, the hotel door opened with a card and your boyfriend came in dressed in white "wow, whose beauty does this belong"

A splendid smile formed on your face, he approached from behind and ran his hands over his body "really nice dress for one wear" you looked at him in surprise "one wear?"

"I'm going to tear it up at the end of the night after all" She said with a pleasant chuckle "Sorry darling, but tonight I going to the job interview which is unlikely to happen"

Fingers entwined with your dress, fiddling with the zipper of the dress "hmm? you're a naughty boy" you said while holding his chin. He pulled you into a beautiful deep kiss

“I'm Gonna Fuck You Until You Can't Walk To That Job İnterview”

Jouno Saigiku

You were both on a mission given by Fukuchi and you went to a bar place and you were the main player here

Your boyfriend was only responsible for killing the man, you were going to lure him and take him to the hotel room, that's all, but it was harder than it looked because the man was trying to kiss you

He was trying to touch you which is perfectly normal if you don't let him the plan would fail the guy grabbed your waist, you could feel Jouno's eyes on you but you tried not to look

"Why is she such a beautiful woman in such a place" the man approached you with his drunk mouth you were disgusted and frankly tense, you tried to look at your boyfriend's side but you couldn't see him, this gave you an incentive to get scared

"Hey! Learn to look at my face when I'm talking to you, do you know who I am?" he spat filthy on the ground and you ask "What are you trying to say?" "Just tell me the price per night dear"

"How dare you" You talked but suddenly the lights went out and gunfire came back when the lights came back there was a pool of blood everywhere You looked at your boyfriend standing in front of you smiling at you "I'm sure there was a glitch in the plan the boss wouldn't mind"

He pulled you by the arm and led you to the room at the back entrance of the bar "does it turn you on when someone else touches you?" he asked you in an angry tone, you couldn't get over his surprise yet "what!? how do you think about that?"

"You look so happy to me" said as he pinned you against the wall "Never was that possible" his brows dropped and he grabbed your legs and tied you around your waist

"Show Your Worth To Me"

Request Are Open!

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

Breakfast fluff

G. Satoru — さとる

NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol

SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday

CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.

Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.

You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.

While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.

And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.

" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "

A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "

" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.

" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.

" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "

The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.

" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.

A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.

You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.

" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.

" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.

You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.

And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.

" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.

Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.

" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.

So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.

You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.

" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.

" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.

" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.

Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.

Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.

" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.

The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.

And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.

But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.

And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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daisynik7 · 9 months

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Nanami adores you. Absolutely, unconditionally, infinitely adores you.

He loves the way your lashes flutter right before you wake up, your bleary eyes instantly brightening when he flashes that good morning smile at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He loves it when the two of you brush your teeth together in the bathroom, sharing the sink, nudging elbows, smirking at one another with toothpaste foaming in your mouths. He loves the sound of you humming the song of the week in the kitchen, preparing your coffee in the same mug you use every day. There is the tiniest crack on the handle from when it slipped from your grasp while you were washing dishes over a year ago, distracted by his hands around your waist, kissing the nape of your neck.

He loves how excited you get when you roam the farmer’s market on Sundays, intrigued by every single stall, delighted to try a different food truck than the previous week for lunch. The two of you share croissants this time, one of Nanami’s favorites, and he just loves watching you take a bite of it, flakey crumbs catching on the corner of your mouth. Because he loves reaching over to you, tracing the outline of your lips, wiping it away as you grin at him.

He loves the lazy afternoon naps with you, snuggled closely on the couch, a movie you’ve seen before playing quietly in the background. He cradles you in his arms, listening to your soft, steady breathing. He memorizes it; cherishes it. Having been thrown into the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, Nanami realized when he met you that he will never take any of this for granted. He loves everything about you, even the most mundane, ordinary things. It reminds him that he’s human, that he’s capable of living a normal life, not just one doomed in the hands of a curse. He can experience love in the purest form, all because of you. There’s nothing more special to him than that. No one more special to him than you.

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fanfic #nanami drabble #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #a palette cleanser after all the nanami smut I wrote LOL #divider by @/saradika #nanami imagines #jjk nanami

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alotofpockets · 2 months

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I've got them | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You offer to watch Billy and Tommy. When Wanda sees you interracting with her kids, she realises her feelings towards you might be more than just a simple crush.

Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.4k

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“Come on Maximoff, you can't bail on Sunday brunch again.” Natasha shook her head, already knowing what her best friend was about to say. “You know I'd love nothing more than to join you guys, but I've got no one to watch the boys on Sundays since the weekend sitter moved away.” It was hard finding a sitter for the two energetic boys, especially when their mom was an Avenger.

You were walking into the room with mission debriefing rapports for the meeting the team was about to have and overheard the conversation. “I’m free Sunday, I don’t mind watching them.” Wanda’s eyes shoot up to you. “Oh that would be too much-” Natasha interrupts her. “That would be much appreciated.” With a nudge from her best friend Wanda agrees. “Alright then, I have to get these to Tony, but find me in my office later for the details?” You wave the stack of papers in the air. “Yeah, sure.” Wanda responds before you smile in her direction and are off again.

“Why did you do that?” Wanda shoves Natasha away from her. “Well, you clearly like y/n, and she’s met the boys before. See it as a way for them to bond, and then you can finally tell her how you feel.” Wanda’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “You really need to stop being my wing woman, and let me live my life.” Natasha sits down at the meeting table, as the rest of the team makes their way into the room. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

Once the meeting was done Wanda made her way over to the office wing of the Compound. Walking the familiar path to your office made her chest warm, Natasha’s words were true. Wanda had a crush on you for about three months now, never had she said those words out loud, but over time she would start spending more and more time with you. Did she need to be on this side of the Compound? No, not at all, but she grasped every opportunity to spend time with you. On the other hand, you were loving the frequent visits from Wanda, always reserving some time in your schedule to spend proper time with her when she would show up.

“Hi Wands, how was the meeting?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing special. I do have these for you, though.” She hands you the file with meeting notes. It had been quite some time now that Wanda brought these to you, instead of Fury or Cap, you were more than happy to receive them from her though. “So, Sunday?” Wanda’s face turned serious quickly. “You really don’t have to watch the boys, it’s too much to ask anyways.” You smiled at her warmly, “First off, you didn’t ask, I offered. Second off, I would love to watch them, they seem like great kids.” You discuss further details until you both have to get back to work.

That’s how you found yourself on the doorstep of the Maximoff household on Sunday. Wanda let you in while the boys were running around the living room chasing each other. “Boy’s, y/n is here, can you please come say hi.” They came to a halt in front of you, “Hi.” They said simultaneously. “Hi kiddos, it's good to see you again.”

Wanda showed you around the house for a bit, so you knew where to find everything you might need. “Okay, and call me if anything is wrong, I can be back in 5 minutes.” You stopped her with your hands on her shoulders, “I’ve got them, Wands. Go have fun with your friends.” You didn’t miss the way her eyes widened slightly, and her breath hitched. “Alright, thank you again.” She turned to her kids, “Boy’s be nice, I’ll be back in around two hours. I love you both.” The boys both smiled her way and said, “We love you too.”

The boys were getting tired from running around and plopped down next to you on the couch. “Seems like you two are in need of food, what would you like?” They both wanted bagels with cream cheese, so you headed into the kitchen to get that ready for them as well as for yourself.

During lunch Billy and Tommy asked you all kinds of questions to get to know you better. Do you have superpowers? What do you do for the Avengers? How do you know our mom? You answered all of their questions happily. Tommy was up next with another question, “Who is your favourite Avenger?” You smiled, “That’s easy, your mom is my favourite Avenger.” They both shared a look and started giggling, “Why?” It didn’t take long for you to answer, “Well, your mom is really kind, and cares a lot about people. She always makes sure the rest of the Avengers are well taken care of. And of course her red wiggly woos are pretty cool.” The boys giggled at the last part of your reasoning. “Is your mom your favourite Avenger too?” Both boys nod their heads instantly, “Mom is the best.”

After the boys helped you clean up the lunch dishes all on their own, they seemed to have found their energy right back. At first they started chasing each other again, but you had an idea that wouldn’t end up with one of them getting hurt. You connected your phone with the speakers in the living room and started some music. The boys halted their running and looked your way at the first sound of music. “You’re not going to make me dance alone right?”

The three of you were jumping around to the music when Wanda came back home, none of you realised though. You were too busy singing along to the music and twirling around together. Wanda watched the scene from the side of the room, her smile wide, and her heart full. She realised in that moment, while you were interacting with her kids that her feelings for you far exceeded those of a simple crush, she was falling for you hard.

You saw Wanda from the corner of your eye and moved towards her. “Dance with us?” You ask her with your hand held out.She places her hand in yours and lets herself get dragged over to the makeshift dance floor. After twirling her towards the boys, the four of you jump around together. The happy smiles on her children’s faces meant the world to Wanda, and the smile on her face meant the world to you.

A slower song came on, and you took Billy’s hand to let him twirl you around, which isn’t very smooth with the height difference but it was the fun you were having that counted. “You should dance with mom.” He said, pushing you towards Wanda. You tap on Tommy’s shoulder. “Excuse me sir, do you mind if I steal the lady for a dance?” He happily hands over the dance to you. Behind your back the boys high five each other, with smug smiles on their faces.

You slow dance with Wanda all throughout the song. The soft hint of her perfume spread around you, as you spun her around. Once the song came to an end you separated again, but something felt different. Neither one of you could wipe the smile off of your face. That was until you checked the time, “This has been a lot of fun, but I should head home.” Both Billy and Tommy come running towards you and engulf you in a big hug, “Thank you for hanging out with us today.” You hug them back, “We had a lot of fun.” They step away again as you tell them that you had a great time as well.

Wanda walked you towards the door and stepped outside with you. “Again thank you so much for doing this. I don’t know how I can repay you.” You smiled at the idea that popped up in your head. “How about you let me take you out on a date?” A smile started playing on Wanda's lips, “I would love that, let’s do it.”

“Mooom.” Was heard from inside the house. “Duty calls, text me the details?” With a nod and a wave, you make your way back to your car. You weren’t able to wipe the smile off of your face the whole drive home, you were going to go on a date with Wanda.

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