#please honey look in the mirror you have no leg to stand on here

[dollypopup]

"I never thought you would be so cruel"

Penelope, you fucked over both of the only female friends you had publicly and not only humiliated them, but forced them to face dire consequences for your choices, I don't know if you have the right to call anyone cruel right about now

[sheerfreesia007]

Fitted Love

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 2,385

Content warnings: Soft smut, MDNI, Fluff, insecurities

Summary: Felix has invited you to be his plus one for a Louis Vuitton event and you need to be fitted for a dress for the event. When Felix notices that your mind is starting to grow dark with your insecurities he reminds you how perfect you are for him in the best way possible.

Yeobo: Honey

The room is busy with activity as you stand on the large white pedestal in front of the Louis Vuitton designer and her team of assistants and jewelry designers. Felix is going to be attending an event that’s hosted by Louis Vuitton and has asked you to join him for the event. Louis Vuitton had personally told Felix that he’d love to design a dress for you so the two of you were currently at the design studio for Louis Vuitton trying to find the perfect dress for you to match with Felix for the event. You nod your head at the assistants as they move about you while you stand on the pedestal in front of the large mirrors. The design manager is standing to the side with her hip cocked out and a deep furrow on her brow as her eyes trail up and down your body that’s displaying one of the creations. She moves closer to you and smooths down the fabric at your side and you watch her silently hoping that this would be the last dress that you try on today. It has been hours since Felix brought you to the design studio and you’ve lost count of how many dresses you’ve tried on now after the design manager asked for the fifth dress to be brought out. You hold your breath and widen your eyes slightly hopeful that your torture will finally end but the manager sighs softly before shaking her head and you’re let down once again.

“It’s not right.” she says woefully before turning to her assistant. “Bring out the emerald green one please.” She instructs and the assistant nods before rushing out of the room. You try not to sigh too loudly but a soft one slips out of your mouth and the manager looks up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just not sitting right and I don’t want to give you a dress that doesn’t fit you well and make you feel good in it.” she apologizes and you shake your head as your insecurities start to rise up inside you.

“No, no. It’s not your fault.” you tell her with another shake of your head and she smiles brightly at you with a determined look.

“Don’t worry I’m pretty sure this next dress will be the one. I’m sure of it. I think I’ve finally figured out what looks best on you. I’m sorry for it taking so long.” she said with a hopeful smile on her face while you nod your head at her. Your eyes dart over to the mirrors and you begin to critically gaze at your body as you stand in the beautiful dress. Your mind begins to whisper dark hurtful words that make you frown softly as you feel that they’re only the truth that you don’t want to believe. Just as you’re beginning to spiral in the dark thoughts you spot Felix sitting in a chair behind you not far from the pedestal, his legs are crossed at the knees and he’s resting his elbow on his knee while his chin rests on his fist. You can feel his eyes taking you in silently and you shift slightly at his attention which causes his eyes to dart up to yours. A gasp is punched out of your chest when you see how dark his eyes have gotten after watching you get changed into the different dresses since you got here and you know exactly what that look means, he’s ready to pounce on you as soon as the room clears. You’re trying to catch your breath as you take in his stoic expression while his stormy heated eyes make your pulse raise like that of prey being hunted. Your mind instantly empties of any dark hurtful thought about your body and you’re reminded of how his body moved against yours last night in bed, the way his hands gripped you tightly and held you flush against his body as he worshipped you with his mouth and body. Lust and desire spike within you and you’re suddenly drowning in the lustrous memories of how Felix made you reach your high three times last night.

Suddenly the assistant came walking back into the room holding a dress bag, and you’re slammed back into reality as your thoughts and memories popped like bubbles in your mind. You distracted yourself by watching her hang the bag up and unzipping it to show the stunning emerald green dress to the room. It’s absolutely beautiful and you’re feeling slightly unsure as your eyes take it in, would it fit you right? Would it look as good on you as it does on the hanger? Another assistant began helping you out of the dress you were currently wearing and as you stepped out of it your eyes caught onto Felix’s heated stare as he gazed at your exposed body. He shifted in his seat a little bit and you knew he was getting more comfortable. No doubt he was hard after watching you get undressed. You shifted on your feet feeling exposed and at his mercy while all he was doing was sitting there looking at you. Your body flushed with heat and you watched as a soft knowing smirk slipped onto Felix’s mouth before his eyes captured yours in another heated stare through the mirror.

“Alright, I think this is the one.” the manager said pulling your attention away from Felix, allowing you to begin breathing again without feeling the pressure of Felix’s attention. You step into the dress and the assistants help close it at the back and you sigh out in relief. The dress feels luxurious against your body and your eyes darted to the mirror while your mouth fell open slightly at how beautiful you looked in the dress. “Yep, this is the one.” the manager said and you nodded your head happily in agreement with her. Your eyes then darted over to Felix and saw him staring at you with lust filled heated eyes as he hid his mouth behind his fist.

The manager continues to adjust the dress on your body only pinning certain places so that the dress hugged your body perfectly effectively showing it off in the best way possible. You shifted from foot to foot as you felt Felix’s eyes raking up and down your form before the manager clapped her hands together loudly.

“I think that’s it. We’ll make the adjustments and deliver the dress to Felix as soon as it’s done. On the day of the event we’ll have a whole team to help you dress and get ready.” the manager informs you while the assistants help you back out of the dress and into a silk robe. You nod your head at her thanking her and her team before they all file out of the room leaving you and Felix alone together. Your eyes find his in the mirror and he’s suddenly standing at a glacial pace before stalking towards you. His gaze keeps you pinned in your spot on the pedestal and your body shivers under the silk robe.

“Do you know how absolutely beautiful you look?” he asks softly as he comes to stand in front of you holding his hand out for yours. He helps you down off the pedestal and guides you to stand in front of him as he positions the two of you in front of the mirrors. His hands slowly glide down your sides and you’re suddenly shaking in his arms knowing that this was going to be a repeat of last night.

“Felix.” you say in a whisper and he tuts out in sharp staccato beats before one of his hands comes up to rest against your neck guiding your head to stare into the mirror.

“I need you to watch Yeobo. I’m going to show you how stunning you are and I need you to watch.” he husks out to you as his mouth places open wet kisses against the back of your neck. You gasp as the hand that’s not resting on your neck slides up the front of your body and tugs the knot of the belt on your robe, the fabric hiding your body loosens and then his hand is sliding underneath the silk material to cup your breast in his large hand. You moan brokenly as your head tips back against his shoulder and your back arches prettily for him thrusting your breast into his hand. “No, no Yeobo. You need to watch.” he scolds you gently, gripping your neck a little tighter in his hand.

Your answering gasp is loud in the empty room as you drop your head forward to stare into the mirror as he continues to grope at your chest under your robe. The hand around your neck falls away to grope and cup your other breast sliding the silk off your body exposing more of your skin and lingerie as you whimper at his ministrations.

“Look at this body.” he instructs you and you try to focus your eyes on where his hands are gripping you. “So perfect for me. You fit in my hands like you were made for them. Made for me.” he husks out as he grinds up against your ass. You groan when you feel his hardness pressing up against you and make a conscious effort to keep your eyes on the mirror as he moves his hands against you. His hands glide up to your shoulders and gently slip the material from your body to let it pool at your feet before his hands are moving once again, one goes back up to your breasts but this time to pinch and flick against your straining nipples while his other travels down to slip into your underwear. “Oh Yeobo, have been this wet for long?” he asks huskily while nipping at the skin on your make making you keen and cry out loudly.

“Felix, please.” you whine out to him as your hands come up and slam against the mirror in front of you. He chuckles low in tone as he crowds you further against the mirror pressing his front flush against your back and grinding upwards into you.

“My poor Yeobo. Wet and needy for me even when your mind is trying to tell you lies about your body. Don’t worry Yeobo I’ll make sure to chase all those lies away as I show you how much I worship you. Just like last night yeah?” he coos at you and you cry out loudly once more as you press back against him.

Suddenly you’re gasping as your bra loosens against your skin and Felix helps you take it off letting it fall to the floor with your robe before his hands slip into your underwear and guide it down your legs. You step out of them and he’s back on you, his clothed body flush against your naked one making you moan for him. You can hear the sound of his zipper sliding down and then the weight of his hardness against your ass makes you whimper.

“Tell me Yeobo. Are you perfect for me?” he asks you and you stare at him dazedly through the mirror while nodding your head quickly. You’re consumed by you lust and desire for him and only want him to ease the ache inside your core. “Tsk, tsk. Use your words pretty girl.” he coos at you scolding you.

“Yes, yes I’m perfect for you. Please Felix, make me feel beautiful.” you moan out to him and he smirks at you through the mirror.

“I could never say no to you Yeobo.” he tells you before he’s suddenly slamming into you. You gasp and choke on air as you feel him stretch you out as you fingers curl against the mirror. You shift back against him trying to get him to move but he stills your hips for a second taking a moment to breathe with you. “My perfect little Yeobo. You feel like home to me.” he tells you and you cry out at his sentiment just before he pulls out and slams back into you. His hips thrust and cant up against you while he leans over you, his hands gripping your hips tightly and his eyes boring into yours through the mirror.

The two of you are a mess of hurried desperate thrust, high pitched whines from you and low deep grunts from him. His mouth is hot and wet as he kisses your neck and shoulders licking against your salty sweat slicked skin as he moves harshly against you.

“C’mon Yeobo, show how much you love it when I worship you. My pretty little Yeobo, no one can compare to you. You’re the only one for me. So beautiful, so sweet.” he coos at you lovingly and you’re gasping for air as your orgasm starts to rise up within you like a hot tidal wave of lava ready to singe and burn you with it’s magnitude.

“Felix, Felix, Felix. Please, oh god. Please!” you cry out and he groans softly at your words as you clamp down on him. Your orgasm suddenly drags you under its hot grip and you’re screaming loudly into the air as your back arches and your knees lock while your body begins to shake uncontrollably. Felix’s hands come up to cup and grip your breasts before he’s slamming into you once, twice, three times before he stills and you feel his release spurt into you. You whimper at the heat of it all and begin to melt against him as his arms wrap securely around your body holding you close to him.

“That’s it Yeobo.” he coos at you while holding you up. “Look how beautiful you are. My stunning gorgeous Yeobo.” he whispers to you as you both stare at each other in the mirror. He kisses your cheek sweetly and you giggle softly at his actions and how contrasting they are to what you both just did. “C’mon let’s go home. I’m not done showing you how perfect you are for me.” he instructs you and begins to help clean you up and dress you to head home.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek

[belu-4]

A sweet travel.

couple: alexia putellas x reader

words count: 1,7k

warning: +18

Megan’s POV

We were finally able to take a little vacation with Ale in the middle of the busy season we were having. It was a pre-planned trip to Ibiza, a well-deserved break away from the hustle and bustle of football, taking advantage of the injury that kept Ale out of the national team call-up.

“Honey, do you have everything packed in your suitcase? It’s time to go.” I felt Alexia’s presence at my side, leaning in the doorway as she watched me finish putting on my mascara.

“I’m almost done, Ale, give me five more minutes.”

I heard her sigh and her resigned murmur. “Honey, if we take any longer, we might miss the flight.” She walked over until she was right behind me.

“I know, Ale, but I have to finish doing this.” I frowned when I saw that the mascara wasn’t showing and leaned closer to the mirror. “I promise I’ll finish here and we can go, okay?”

I glanced over my shoulder at the mirror and saw Alexia looking down, more specifically at my ass. I laughed at the sight. “See anything you like?”

Alexia quickly looked away, but then moved closer, sticking up against me from behind.

“I have a right to see what’s mine, don’t you think?”

I sat up straight so I was pressed against her chest. “Don’t play around… we have a flight.” I let out a soft moan when I felt her hands running down my torso.

“Ale…” What I was supposed to sound like a warning sounded more like a muffled moan.

“Should that stop me?” She laughed into my neck, leaving a light bite that made me gasp and blush even more. I unconsciously began to grind against her. Alexia placed her hand on the back of my neck, gently pushing me forward until I was leaning over the sink.

“So cute you look like this for me… ready to take my fingers or my cock.” I felt a burn in my ass at her words, making me moan. I had been spanked.

“You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

“Ale… please.”

“Please what, Meg? What do you want?” I looked at the mirror, seeing her silhouette leaning over me, making me moan and get even wetter.

“We should go… we’ll be late.”

“Do you really think that? Because if I did, you wouldn’t be so wet for me, princess.” Alexia let out a low laugh again. “Tell me what you really want, use your words.”

I gasped as I felt her fingers moving between my legs. “I need you, Ale… let me feel you, please.”

“What do you want? My fingers or my cock?”

“Either, I just want to feel you inside me, Ale.”

Alexia moved away from my back and walked over to where I was originally standing.

“You better hurry up or we’ll miss our flight, love.” I watched as she walked away, exiting the shared room and bathroom, leaving me with my panties awash and my body burning.

The sound of the private jet’s engine remained constant as Alexia placed her bag in the overhead compartment and then took a seat next to Megan. The plane’s cabin was spacious and luxurious, offering them absolute privacy. Megan stretched her legs out on the seat, giving Alexia a playful look.

“We needed this,” Megan commented with a smile, reclining her seat.

“Yeah,” Alexia nodded. “A little peace before we returned to chaos.” Megan closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being thousands of feet above the ground with the only company she truly wanted. However, as the minutes passed, she remembered what had happened at home.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, planning her little revenge. Alexia, sitting beside her seemingly calmly, didn't suspect a thing.

"Meg, are you okay?" Alexia asked in a worried tone.

Megan frowned and exhaled slowly before parting her lips. She swallowed, her dilated pupils betraying her intentions.

"I don't know…" Megan whispered, her voice tinged with need. She clung to Alexia's arm, showing her true intentions.

Alexia took a deep breath, trying to control the wave of desire that was beginning to take hold inside her. Megan wouldn't make it easy for her.

"Megan…" Alexia murmured, her self-control hanging by a thread.

"Lex, please…" Megan slid her hand up her girlfriend's thigh, with a lascivious look and a mocking touch.

Alexia licked her lips, feeling them dry in response. Her eyes, a little darker, scanned Megan's figure, who was breathing heavily.

Without further ado, Alexia stood up and took Megan's hand, guiding her determinedly towards the back of the plane, where there was a private compartment. As soon as she closed the door, Megan threw herself into her arms, her body burning with desire.

Megan's lips sought Alexia's desperately, kissing her with voracious hunger. Alexia held her tightly by the waist, pressing her to her body. Her hands ran over every curve of Megan, while their mouths melted in a hungry kiss, without reservation.

Alexia, taking her by the waist, she turned her around, turning her back to her.

“Will you be good for me?”

“Yes, Ale, I will be, please.”

Without another word, Alexia hiked up Megan’s skirt, running her fingers up her thighs and over her ass before leaving a smack. Megan moaned at the feeling of how wet she was. Alexia pulled down her underwear and slid her fingers between her folds, applying light pressure to her clit. Megan was already a mess of low moans at Alexia’s touch.

Ale slid a finger inside Megan, moving slowly so as not to hurt her. After a few minutes, she added a second finger, increasing the intensity and depth of her movements. She grabbed one of Megan’s legs, lifting her up onto an armrest.

Megan bit her lip to stifle a loud moan as Alexia began to move more aggressively. The pressure of her girlfriend’s fingers made her tremble. Alexia brought a hand to her neck, leaning down to bite her shoulder.

“Don’t make a sound, love. We don’t want them to hear us.” But Megan was too close to the edge to obey. Her moans were becoming more erratic, her body growing tense.

“Lex… I’m going to cum.”

Alexia smiled against her skin, speeding up her movements mercilessly, taking her straight to the cusp of pleasure. When she felt Megan was close, she stopped moving and pulled her fingers out of Megan

“I said not to be so loud, princess.”

“No, Alexia, not again.” Megan dropped her head forward, frustrated again.

Alexia laughed softly at the sight of her frustrated girl in front of her. She took a few minutes to enjoy the sight before she began to move, pulling down her pants along with her underwear, revealing the strap she was wearing. Megan’s favorite.

In the blink of an eye, Megan found herself filled by her girlfriend's cock, moaning a little louder again at the unannounced intrusion.

“You look so cute with my cock buried in your little pussy”

“God, Lexia… fuck yes, there”

Megan was a mess of moans and gasps feeling Alexia's cock filling her, feeling that knot in her abdomen getting stronger and stronger, feeling herself getting closer and closer to climax.

When Megan thought she couldn't feel better, Alexia brought her fingers to her girlfriend's throbbing clit and circled it, leaving light caresses and then starting to move them in circular motions. “Yes Alexia, fuck, keep going like that”

In a matter of seconds Megan was cumming on her girlfriend's strap, leaving a mess. Alexia moaned at that erotic image of her girl. Megan tried to catch her breath, still trembling against Alexia's body. Her skin was burning, and her mind was clouded by the pleasure that had just coursed through her. But then she smiled mischievously, her gaze lit with a mischievous spark as she turned on her heels to face her girlfriend.

“I don’t think we’re even yet.”

Alexia arched an eyebrow with a satisfied smile, crossing her arms. “And yet, look at you… completely undone by me.”

Megan bit her lip, her expression softening before she leaned closer and slid her hands down Alexia’s waist. Her lips found her girlfriend’s jaw, leaving slow, wet kisses up to her neck.

“Now it’s my turn,” she whispered against her skin, feeling Alexia shudder under her touch.

With deft, determined movements, Megan pushed her back until her back touched the wall of the private compartment. Her fingers ran down Alexia’s firm abdomen.

“Meg…” Alexia exhaled heavily, losing some of her dominant attitude. Megan smiled against her lips before claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. Her hands moved with precision, hitting every spot she knew would make Alexia melt under her touch.

What started as a game of revenge ended in a whirlwind of passion, with Alexia clinging to Megan, her breathing ragged and her body giving in to the wave of pleasure consuming her.

Alexia brought a hand up to Megan’s hair, where she tangled their fingers. Megan understood that move and slowly began to kneel in front of Alexia. “Do you want my mouth?”

Alexia let out a lewd moan “Please”

Without another word said, Megan brought her mouth to Alexia’s pussy, leaving small licks at first, mainly to tease her. A growl from the other was the message Megan needed to start giving her girlfriend more pleasure.

Alexia began to rock on Megan’s mouth, trying to seek release. “Fuck meg, yeah… still there, I’m so close”

After a few minutes, Alexia pulled Megan’s hair a little harder, she began to moan louder as a sign of her imminent climax.

When they were finally both lying on the small sofa in the compartment, intertwined and catching their breath, Megan rested her head on Alexia’s chest, smiling with satisfaction. —Now we’re even.

Alexia laughed softly, sliding her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair.

"I don’t know… maybe I need another round to be sure.

Megan raised her head and said, “I’m not sure.”

She looked at her with feigned disbelief before laughing.

“You’re lucky the flight is long, Putellas.”

They both stayed like that for a while, enjoying the shared warmth and the tranquility of the moment before the plane took them to their paradise destination.

sorry if it's too short, not very well reviewed

[alienbycomics]

Ready to Stand: A comic retelling The Little Mermaid with a twist 🏳️‍⚧️

[Begin image description- Comic with 10 panels inspired by Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Comic title: “Ready to Stand” by Alienby comics.

Panel 1: Ariel, a mermaid, holds a dress up in front of her and looks into a mirror longingly. Ariel’s flat chest covered in scales and gills makes her gender ambiguous. Ariel is in her underwater cave surrounded by trinkets from the human world. Ariel’s voice over: “Maybe Father’s right. Maybe there is something wrong with me.”

Panel 2: Ariel leans on a rock on the surface of the water, looking hopefully at 2 human women walking along the beach in the distance. Ariel’s voice over: “But I want this more than anything.”

Panel 3: Ariel is seen swimming away from her home in a shadowy nook, looking back at her father and sisters, who are laughing together. She is sad to leave them. Ariel’s voice over speaking to Ursula: “So you can really turn me into a human?”

Panel 4: Ariel approaches Ursula the Sea Witch in Ursula’s lair pleadingly. Ursula speaks to Ariel over her shoulder. Ursula answers: “I can. You’re not the first, honey. Life down here is so drab, isn’t it?” Ariel replies: “Yes. I don’t belong here. Please help me.”

Panel 5: Ariel and Ursula’s conversation continues as we see a flashback of Ariel’s father Triton, who has angrily destroyed Ariel’s trinkets from the human world with his magic. Triton holds Ariel by the arm in one hand and holds her dress, which is now in shambles, in his other hand. Ursula’s voice over: “What do you have to offer me?” Ariel’s voice over: “I have… well, I had a trove of treasures until my father…” Ariel trails off. Ursula’s voice over: “How about your voice?”

Panel 6: Ariel looks over her shoulder back at Ursula. Ursula appears more devilish now and lurks in the shadows behind her. Ariel asks: “My voice?” Ursula replies: “You can’t get something for nothing, kid. Your voice for your legs. Do we have a deal?”

Panel 7: Ariel and Ursula now are at opposite sides of a bubbling purple cauldron, full of a potion that will make Ariel human. Ursula holds a vial of this potion out to Ariel. Ariel’s fists are clenched and her face is poised in resolve. Ariel simply says, “okay.” Ursula warns Ariel: “But the transformation will be painful, and you can never return home. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Panel 8: The comic cuts to after Ariel’s transformation. She breaks the surface of the ocean and takes a sharp breath of air. She no longer has gills or scales, and she now has noticeable human breasts with seashell coverings. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over: “Air in my lungs…”

Panel 9: Ariel is seen in 2 poses. The first pose shows Ariel sitting in the shallow water on the beach, admiring one of her feet on her brand new legs. She has a huge smile on her face. The second pose shows Ariel trying to stand, now wearing a skirt made from a piece of canvas from nearby ship debris. Ariel teeters and falls over with a chibi-like expression that exaggerates her panic. Ariel’s inner monologue voice over continues: “Sand between my toes, the warm sun on my soft skin…”

Panel 10: Ariel blissfully but silently laughs while laying in the warm sand on the beach. Her arms and new legs are sprawled out in relaxation. Ariel’s inner monologue concludes: “Now I’m home.” / End image description]

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely! if you’re up to it, would you be able to write something w james or remus with comforting a reader who’s insecure about her skin/having broken out? i’m totally not projecting (i get chronic rashes on my face and one broke out recently and it’s making me sooo self conscious because my birthday is soon and i wanted to feel pretty 😖)

thank you!! mwah!!!

xoxo @mareagirls

Hi Rosa my love! Thank you for requesting and happy early birthday!!

cw: reader is insecure about her skin

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

You scrub at your skin with your fingertips, pads pressing harshly as you distribute the cleanser over your face. Then turn the tap as cold as it can go, splashing water and scrubbing again to make sure the product is all gone. 

“Alright, enough of that,” says Remus as you towel your face dry. You look up to see your boyfriend watching you in the mirror from the bedroom. He tents his book beside him on the bed, beckoning you over. “Come here, bring your stuff.” 

You turn around to look at him. “Why?” 

You can see Remus intentionally smoothing the pique from his expression, gentling it into something kinder. “Just come sit with me, please.” 

You gather your things off the bathroom counter, carrying them into the bedroom and plopping down in front of him on the bed. Remus knows your routine. He takes a washcloth from you wordlessly, wetting it with product. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You do, and he starts swiping the product gently over your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way slowly upwards, following the planes of your face. His free hand is wrapped loosely around the side of your neck to steady the both of you. 

“Why are you doing this?” you murmur, trying not to move your face as you speak. 

“Couldn’t stand seeing you look so angry with yourself,” Remus replies, matching your volume. His voice is low and raspy, inlaid still with traces of frustration. You hadn’t realized you had been looking like that. “S’like you’ve no idea how pretty you are.” 

There’s a thick pause. The washcloth shushes over the skin of your forehead, and you can feel Remus’ gaze boring into your shuttered lids. 

“I know you think I just say that,” he says, setting the washcloth down on your leg. You open your eyes, and he’s squirting moisturizer onto the pad of his index finger. His eyes flit up to yours, the color of honey or perfectly steeped tea. You look away. “I don’t. I wouldn’t bother saying anything if you weren’t as lovely as you are, and it’s insane that you don’t know it yourself. I mean, we’re looking at the same face, aren’t we?” 

Your lips twist upwards as you close your eyes and Remus sets his hands to your face again. He smooths the moisturizer into your skin with thorough, loving strokes. 

“I do feel pretty, sometimes,” you admit. “Just not so much when my skin is acting up like this.” 

“Not sure how that changes anything.” His voice is gruff, audibly judgemental in the way you’re sure only he can manage. It coaxes a soft laugh from you, and Remus’ thumb swipes extra affectionately over your cheekbone, approving. His tone lightens. “Really, dove, it’s not like the rest of you just disappears because you’ve broken out. You’re just as lovely. I’m not sure anything could change that, short of reconstructive surgery I suppose.” 

You roll your eyes. They’re still closed, but you hope he sees the motion anyway. “You’re being too nice to me. I know it’ll go away eventually, but it’s still not the same as when my skin is clear.” 

“It’s not,” Remus allows. “Of course it’s not the same. But that’s like saying I’m not the same with my scars as I was without them. And I still managed to snag you all mangled-looking.” 

You open your eyes, despite his hands still moving over your face. “You’re not mangled-looking,” you say. You know Remus knows this, but it feels important to tell him anyway. “I love you with your scars.” 

He smiles softly, and you close your eyes again, satisfied. “Then you see what I’m getting at,” he says. “I love you like this, just the same as when your skin looked a bit different.” His touch arcs over your eyebrow. “And everyone else loves you just the same, too.” 

You hum, a pleased sort of capitulation. “You’re such a sweet talker.” 

“Doesn’t take much imagination to tell the truth.” You can hear Remus’ smile. “You’re always lovely, dove, but I like you best when you look like you feel lovely, too.”

“I’ll try,” you say. He hums satisfiedly, thumbs brushing twin paths across your cheeks. “Is there really still product to rub in?” 

“Mm, not strictly speaking.” Remus’ lips press, soft and sweet, to your freshly moisturized cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind the bumps. “But I think I’d better do this a while longer just to be sure.” 

[wintrwinchestr]

obedience | part 1

summary: you decide to act out after feeling neglected by joel for over a week. it doesn’t go quite according to plan, but his punishment does help you unlock a new kink or two.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, daddy kink, d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, brat tamer joel, degradation/humiliation (use of slut, whore, 1 use of bitch), orgasm denial/edging, boot riding, pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, honey, puppy), entering petplay territory??, finger sucking, one face slap but she likes it (and so do i), taking/sending nudes at work, subspace, hair pulling, joel cums on reader’s face, cum eating, two idiots who finally communicate and apologize to each other, gets soft at the end bc i’m a woman of many interests, reader can be carried by joel but no other physical descriptions, winter’s limited knowledge of what contractors do, pic of girl in the moodboard is for bra imagery only, reader looks just like you!! :)

word count: 4.1k

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent so please don’t look at me!!! lil shoutout to @pascalisbaby for inspiring me to write something just so i can use “puppy” bc their love’s gonna get you killed series has fucked me up extremely bad.

divider by @saradika

(read part 2 here)

It’s coming up on nearly a week and a half of Joel working long days and late nights at the latest suburban McMansion he’s been contracted out to. Each and every time he creeps into his side of the bed after you’ve already gone to sleep, never failing to wake you up in the process, he always has a different excuse. “My concrete guy was out sick today”, “the vendor gave us the wrong size rebar”, “the landscapers were in our way all damn day”, and other similar eye roll-inducing anecdotes that were followed up with sleepy apologies.

Tonight, you’re almost certain, will be just the same.

Slogging through yet another slow and uneventful day at your corporate nine-to-five, you’re practically counting down the seconds until you’ll be able to escape your drab little cubicle for the day. You aren’t exactly looking forward to going home, though, either. You know that all you have waiting for you will be another lonely night of heating up a frozen dinner, watching reality TV reruns until the ten o’clock news comes on, and then tucking yourself into a cold bed.

While you’re waiting around for a coworker to message you back about something painfully unimportant, you decide to get up to kill some time in the bathroom on your phone and stretch your legs a bit. You stand up from your rolling chair, grabbing your phone in the process, and head down the hall to the one single-person bathroom in the building that you know of.

You step inside and click the lock shut behind you, looking forward to having a rare few minutes to yourself without the threat of your manager lurking over your shoulder. You inspect your makeup in the mirror and address some flyaway hairs before leaning back against the sink and swiping your home screen into view. Your heart soars at the discovery of a text notification from Joel, but settles just as quickly when you read the words across your screen.

A couple of my dumbass guys fucked up some measurements again. Gonna be another late one. Sorry baby. 

You let out an exasperated sigh and turn around to face your reflection again, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink and trying not to cry. How much fucking longer are you going to have to put up with this? You'd been getting through it alright so far, but his sterile text had ignited a raging fire deep in your stomach that made a scorching heat climb its way up the back of your neck.

You’re determined to get his attention tonight, one way or another. Even if it means pushing some of his buttons, riling him up, making him feel a few licks of that very same inferno. You’re feeling fucking bratty.

You undo the top few buttons of your blouse and shimmy it off your shoulders, exposing the blushing lace of the bra you had chosen when you were getting dressed this morning. Using one arm to hold your phone up to the mirror with the camera app open, you use the other one to prop yourself up against the sink and assist in pushing your tits together. As a final touch, you pull down one of the delicate cups along with its accompanying strap, exposing an already peaked nipple. Meeting your own eyes in the reflection and forming your glossy lips into a faux pout, you snap the picture and attach it to your text conversation with Joel. You type out a coy little message to go along with it and send it off.

that’s okay daddy. just sad i wore a rly cute bra today for nothing :(

While you anxiously wait for his response, you take a few more lewd photos to tease him with later, and make your way back to your desk after you button yourself up again and smooth out your skirt.

Sitting back down at your cubicle, you check your notifications to find a response from Joel, sent just a few seconds ago.

What’d I tell you about sendin me shit like that when I’m at work? Put your fuckin tits away babygirl. Not in the mood today.

Despite his harsh words, you know your plan is already working in your favor. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you attach another one of the photos you had taken in the bathroom, this one of your matching lace panties pulled aside to expose your bare pussy to the front camera. You type out another flirtatious message and tap the button to send it.

idk what u mean daddy :( just miss u is all. she misses u too :((

You promptly turn off your phone and place it screen-down next to your mousepad, resigning yourself to a mere ten minutes of work before you can’t resist temptation anymore and pick it back up again to check for a reply.

Last warning babygirl. I got enough shit to deal with today, don’t need your slutty pictures distractin me. I’ll see ya tonight.

whatever. u don’t pay attention to me anymore anyway :/

You begin to regret your message as soon as you send it, worrying you might have taken things too far. But it was true; you’re upset, in a bratty mood, and feeling neglected. And, maybe you did want to work him up enough for him to take it all out on you, to fuck the attitude out of you the way you know he likes to do every so often.

A few seconds after you power off your screen to do a few more minutes of work, it illuminates again.

Oh I don't? When I get home tonight you better be kneelin in front of the door waitin for me undressed like a good girl. Not like the fuckin brat you’re actin like. And we’ll see about payin you some attention. Now pull your fuckin panties up and get back to work.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you read his text, now feeling exhilarated that your plan is officially in motion. After you’ve read his words through a couple of times, squeezing your thighs together and stifling a whimper as you did so, your trembling fingers type out a simple reply:

yes daddy <3

The remainder of your work day seems to pass by in slow motion, every minute feeling more like five. You can hardly bring yourself to focus on any of your mundane tasks, your mind constantly drifting to what you might be in for tonight. Will he spank you and leave red handprints on your ass for days? Will he fuck your face while you sputter and gasp around him? Will he work you over with his tongue until all you know how to say is “I’m sorry, Daddy”? As you shake yourself from your trance and try to focus your eyes again, you wonder why you hadn’t thought to act up like this earlier in the week. You keep your eye on the little digital clock in the corner of your monitor for the last five consecutive minutes of your work day, and as soon as 4:59 flashes to 5:00, you practically sprint out to your car in your hurry to get home.

–

You’re cuddled up on the couch underneath your favorite fleece blanket, already stripped down to your peony-colored underwear set like Joel had requested. The past couple of hours have been spent cycling between all of your streaming services and social media apps, trying desperately to find something to occupy yourself with until he gets home. You’re half-tempted to get up and walk some laps around the house, but around 10:30, you finally see the scanning headlights of Joel’s pickup as it turns into the driveway.

You immediately spring up from your little nest on the couch and prance over to the front door, kneeling a few feet in front of it just like he ordered.

In your excited anticipation to see him, you tune your ears to pick up every little sound you hear as he makes his way to you: the slam of the truck’s driver’s side door, the dull thud of his work boots heading up the walkway, the prolonged jingling of his keys as he fumbles with them to unlock the door. You’re sure he’s fidgeting with them for a few seconds longer than usual, just to tease you and keep you waiting. A shiver runs up your spine and you can feel your heart pounding against the walls of your chest as he finally turns the lock.

He calmly steps inside and closes the door behind him, dropping his dusty work bag onto the floor and stripping himself of his canvas tool belt. He stalks over to where you’re knelt on the hardwood, wrapped in your dainty lace for him like a little doll. There’s something arousing about the contrast between your barely-there feminine attire and his dark, practical clothing.

“Well, whaddya know, she can be good after all… Waitin’ for me all nice and pretty just like I asked. All it takes is an order from your Daddy to get you actin’ right again, ain’t that right, babygirl? Obedient lil’ thing…” He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he speaks, keeping your eyes trained on his. You nod up at him, doe-eyed and dazed, already feeling yourself beginning to slip into that familiar saccharine headspace.

Every time you had previously tried your hand at bratting, it never lasted very long, and tonight was already proving to be no different. He was right, after all, it doesn’t take more than a command, a look, a gentle grasp of your chin, to remind you of your desire to be good for him.

“What, Daddy doesn’t get a proper greetin’ after a long day o’ work? You already that far gone f’ me, can’t use your words proper like a big girl?” 

“H-hi, Daddy… Missed you today,” you half-whisper, your voice sounding a little higher and further away than it did earlier in the day.

“Yeah, I know y’ did… I’ll bet your lil’ panties are ‘bout soaked through already, bet you left a wet spot on your fuckin’ desk chair just from daydreamin’ about what I was gonna do to you tonight, hm?”

Another silent nod accompanied by a pitiful little whimper. The blazing fire in your gut from this afternoon is quickly being replaced by something much more easily tamed, something more akin to a flickering candle flame than a wildfire. You struggle to keep your eyelids open as they begin to feel heavier with submission.

A stern look and a ticked jaw is enough for you to correct your wordless response.

“Y-yes, Daddy…”

“And what is it that you think I’m gonna do with you tonight, babygirl? Speak up, now…”

You rack your brain for a moment, suddenly unable to remember any of the depraved fantasies you had been conjuring up all day instead of replying to emails. You eventually land on a relatively straightforward answer.

“I th-think you’re gonna… gonna fuck the attitude outta me, t-teach me a lesson… right, Daddy?”

He lets out a dark chuckle, releasing your chin from his hold to give your cheek a couple of condescending pats instead.

“Aww, dumb lil’ thing… you thought Daddy was gonna touch you at all tonight, make that pathetic lil’ pussy cum after the stunts you were pullin’ today? Nah, I don’t think so… Open that slutty fuckin’ mouth.”

You’re reeling, taken aback by his harsh words, words that were certainly not in any of the countless scenarios you had been imagining at work. There’s a long beat of silence as you struggle to process his command.

You hear the smack across your face before you feel the heated sting of it, and it prompts a debauched mewl to spill from your parted lips.

“I said open your fuckin’ mouth…”

Your jaw falls slack in an instant, your pulsing cunt releasing an ashamed wave of wetness at the degrading slap. Joel shoves his thumb inside your waiting mouth, and you wrap your lips around it obediently as you swirl your tongue along its calloused landscape. It tastes salty, a little dirty, and you like it.

“Good girl, suck on Daddy’s thumb, tha’s it… dumb whore’ll suck on anything Daddy puts in her mouth, won’t she? Desperate lil’ thing… Bet you wish it was this fat cock instead, don’t you baby?”

You whine and nod around him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Well… that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it? Tonight’s not about what you want, you can gimme that sad puppy look all you like, sugar, not gonna change anythin’...”

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, and your slick lips try to chase after it until he wipes it clean on the side of your face. His hands make quick work of opening his stained work jeans and freeing his stiff cock from his briefs, taking it into one hand and beginning to pump it with languid strokes. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull with his free hand and taps the leaking head of his length against your cheek, adding to the dampness there from your own saliva.

“This what you want?” Tap tap tap. “You want Daddy’s cock? Hm? This what you been thinkin’ about all day, dirty girl?” He rocks his hips back and forth as he speaks, smearing his arousal along your skin.

You can’t help but squirm as a humiliated heat begins to pool in your tummy.

“Yes, Daddy, please let me have it, wan’ it so bad…” you beg.

He releases your hair and pulls his cock away from your face, making a show of massaging it and taunting you with what he won’t let you have.

“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ any of Daddy’s cock tonight, baby… In fact, I’m gonna stand right here and take care of m’self, and you’re gonna find somethin’ to rub that soakin’ cunt on while I watch…”

As the last of his words leave his lips, he steps one foot forward and nudges it between your thighs, looking at you expectantly. You lower your head to face his steel-toed work boot, covered in dust and dirt from his day at the construction site. Your mind still too deep in the clouds to understand what he’s asking of you, you lift your eyes back up to him for guidance. He juts his chin out in a silent “go on, then”, and you return your confused gaze back to his boot, the toe of which is positioned just in front of your aching heat. Your breath hitches and your eyes go wide as you finally realize: he wants to pleasure himself to the sight of you getting yourself off on his boot.

All at once, it falls into place how he wants the night to unfold. He wants to deny you. Deny you of his touch, his cock, even the privilege of making him feel good yourself… all because you acted out, disobeyed him, tested his limits.

“We understand each other, darlin’?”

“Y-yes, Daddy…” You meet his eyes as you speak, voice coming out a little unsteady. Any confidence you had while you were teasing him this afternoon is long gone, fully submitting to him now and completely at his mercy. He didn’t need to fuck you in order to put you in your place, he knew plenty of other much more degrading ways to rid you of your bratty attitude, to remind you of who you belong to.

You position your cunt over the filthy toe of his boot, the gusset of your lacy panties now completely saturated with your wetness. Your hands planted on either side of his leg, you try an experimental grind onto the leather-covered steel. A bolt of electricity shoots from your swollen clit to your fevered cheeks, burning with the eroticism of being made to humiliate yourself like this. He allows you to wrap your arms around his calf, using his sturdy form as leverage to rub yourself harder and faster against the solid material. 

“Look at you, humpin’ my boot like a fuckin’ dog… that’s just what y’ are, ain’t it? Daddy’s lil’ puppy…” he teases, spurring you on with his words and the indecent sounds of his wet fist working along his thick cock.

You let out an involuntary yelp at the new pet name, which he’s quick to catch with a huff through his nose.

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she? Y’ like that, sweetheart, bein’ Daddy’s good girl, his obedient lil’ puppy? Yeah, I know y’ do… I got you trained good, don’t I? Do just about anything I want, won’t you? Got you rubbin’ that slutty pussy on my fuckin’ boot, for Christ’s sake, barely even had to ask… fuckin’ pathetic.”

The degradation makes your stomach swirl with a cocktail of embarrassment and pleasure. Your cunt flutters as you continue your frantic movements, releasing broken whimpers that sound something like uh huh and yes, Daddy. You’re sure that your slick has to be dripping down his boot by now, soaking straight through the leather and pooling onto the hardwood. You wonder if he might punish you for that, too, for making a mess of him and your freshly mopped floors. Just the thought of it has your hips picking up the pace, desperate to reach your high.

Your eyes are shut tightly as you pursue your orgasm, but you can still hear the shallow pumps of Joel’s fist and his stuttering breaths that indicate he’s close to his own release.

“Yeah, grind that sloppy fuckin’ puppy cunt on Daddy’s boot, there ya go… lookin’ like a goddamn bitch in heat… desperate whore… c’mon, puppy, make a fuckin’ mess for me…”

“I’m gonna cum, Daddy, gonna–”

Just as you feel yourself about to crest the wave of your climax, he pulls his foot out from under you and yanks your head back by another fistful of hair.

“Open up, puppy,” he groans as he splashes his hot release all over your face, aiming most of it around your mouth as you cry out from the denial of your own pleasure.

“Look at you, filthy girl… So pretty for Daddy, all covered in me,” he coos as the last few milky drops land on your cheek. Before any of it can start to drip, he scoops it up with his thumb and feeds it to you a bit at a time, and you continue to suck his finger into your eager mouth once again.

When your face is fully cleaned of his spend, he pulls his thumb from between your lips for a final time with a pop, and you stick out your tongue to show him you’ve swallowed everything he’s given you. 

“Good girl,” he praises, petting the side of your hair in soothing strokes. “What do you say to Daddy, hm?”

“Th-thank you…” you choke out, still trying to steady your voice.

“And what else?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “And… I’m sorry, Daddy,” you relent.

“For what, sweet girl?”

This was always your least favorite part, the part you struggled with the most: admitting that you were wrong. 

“For being a brat today, for not listening and disrespecting you…” Your posture deflates, wondering if you should continue your confession. You remember one of the ground rules that was laid out when you first entered this dynamic with him, the one about how important communication is, and decide to keep going. “I jus’ feel like you’ve hardly paid any attention to me the past few days…” You start to sniffle as you speak, the overwhelm of it all finally catching up with you.

“Oh…” he breathes sympathetically. “Here, can you stand up, babygirl? C’mon, come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute.”

He offers you his hands, and you use them to push yourself up onto shaky legs, feeling like a newborn foal. You wrap your arms around his neck and he scoops you up, carrying you bridal-style back to your cozy spot on the couch. He situates you in his lap, wrapping you up in your blanket again, and you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between his shoulder and neck. You inhale through your nose, smiling to yourself and sighing contentedly when your senses are flooded with his natural comforting smell.

“I know I’ve been workin’ some real late nights recently… I’m sorry about that, honey,” he apologizes, rubbing comforting circles around your upper back. 

“‘S okay, Daddy, ‘s not your fault,” you say into his skin.

“But I shoulda made more of an effort to give you some lovin’ anyway, I shouldn’t have had to wait for you to brat on me… Look at me, baby.” You lift your head and meet his sincere gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy.”

“I know y’ are, sweet girl, I know…”

You exchange warm smiles, and he curls his pointer finger under your chin to pull your face toward his, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. He settles both of his large hands on either side of your face before breaking the kiss to press your foreheads together. You close your eyes and try to match his breathing, enjoying this moment with him.

After a minute or so, you break the silence. “So… puppy, huh? That’s a new one,” you giggle.

He laughs and releases your face from his hold, meeting your eyes again. “Jus’ wanted to try somethin’ new, I guess…” He snakes a hand under the blanket, thumbing over the damp crotch of your panties. “And judgin’ by this lil’ mess down here, I take it you liked it. Hm, pretty girl?”

Still sensitive from your earlier denial, you let out a high pitched little whine and an involuntary buck of your hips into his hand.

“See? Even sound like a lil’ puppy… Daddy’s good girl. You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

“Uh huh, yes, Daddy, please…” Your face is buried in his chest as you rut into his hand, squeezing it between your thighs, back to the same place you were just before he pulled his boot out from underneath you.

“Daddy was so mean earlier, wasn’t he? Not lettin’ you cum, punishin’ you for actin’ up… But I think you’ve learned your lesson now, huh puppy? C’mon, sweet girl, let go, soak Daddy’s hand…”

And you do. With his permission, you cry out, muscles spasming and cunt twitching as you finally ride out the climax you’ve been chasing all night. You’re panting by the time you start to come down after what feels like several minutes, exhaustion hitting you hard all at once. When some of your awareness has come back to you, you realize that Joel is gently rocking you back and forth on his lap, petting the back of your head and gently shushing in your ear.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, babygirl, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha… So good for me, baby, my precious girl…”

When your breathing evens out once more, you muster the strength to lift your head from its place against his heart, and he chuckles at the sleepy and sated look on your face as you blink slowly at him.

“My lil’ puppy’s all tuckered out, huh? Let’s get you up to bed, darlin’, Daddy’ll tuck you in.”

He stands up with a groan, cradling you in his muscled arms, and carries you into the bedroom. You’re already drifting off to sleep when he sits you on the bed, carefully stripping you of your ruined underwear and helping you into a clean, sensible pair of cotton undies. He retrieves one of his oversized “Miller Contracting” shirts from his drawer and slips it over your head, helping your weak arms through the sleeves. Brushing your hair away from your face, he places a scruffy kiss to your hairline and helps you lay down onto the cool sheets. He pulls the covers up all the way over your shoulders, the way he knows you like, and smiles to himself when you burrow yourself into the sheets.

He takes a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and grit he collected on his skin during the day, and slips into bed beside you. Another private smile and a small shake of his head when you instinctually turn to face him and snuggle into his warm body, wrapping your arms around the breadth of his upper arm and inhaling the masculine cologne of his body wash.

He reaches across his chest to gently scratch at the top of your head, prompting a dreamy little noise from you. “Just like I said,” he whispers to himself, “a lil’ puppy.”

He wouldn’t have you any other way.

not really sure who to tag for this one, gonna use the same list from my last fic if that's okay!! anyone else please let me know if you'd like to be tagged on my future fics!!

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held

[thetriumphantpanda]

new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates. 

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

[boothillssugarmomma]

Steel Here

(Boothill x Fem!Reader)

cw-: Body dysmorphia, slight talks of hating themself, other than that fluff fluff

🎀 authorsnote: Rn I'm feeling like my body isn't great so I used this fic to sort of get it out! And it actually felt great!

please don't steal my work!

Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀Other Lists🎀

Boothill’s quietly sitting in his room that you begged him to have on The Astral Express. As his girlfriend you've been trying to get him to stay around more and he adores it.

But it also gives him more time to really think...and he doesn't know if he likes that part.

Ok...he hates it. He hates that fact that he has to see himself when he passes a mirror, he hates it when he feels his cool steel against his face, he hates how he can't feel your hugs...

Boothill stands and looks in the mirror, flexing his mechanical arms softly and glancing over his fake abs. He shakes his left metal leg and sighs.

He hears the small mechanical noise of his bedroom door and looks over to it. He smiles softly as he sees you.

“Hey sweet thang...” He shoots you a warm smirk, trying to cover up what he was doing as he quickly sits on his bed. You glance over at the mirror and back to him. Piecing it in your mind what exactly he was doing. “What do ya need hon...?”

You're silent as he asks. No response as you just blink. Your eyes communicate to him that you want him to tell you what you saw.

Your boyfriend sighs a little. Placing his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

“Don't gimme that look...” He breathes, obviously frustrated as he looks back up at you, “Fine...I'm startin' to wish I was me again...I don't want this body anymor'.”

"Oh honey..." You whisper softly as you sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his back but remember he won't even be able to feel it...

“See...now would ya look at that...?” Boothills voice drawls, he places a hand on your thigh and sighs as you shiver at the cold metal. “I...guess this is ma' life now..." He scoffs softly. "Can't even curse...it's all 'muddle fudger' this and 'fork that' and 'son of a nice lady'..."

"Boothill sweetheart..." You whisper as you lean against him. "Don't say that..."

Boothill hesitates on resting his temple against your head, he doesn’t need his body reminding him that part of his ridiculous body is only metal.

But he doesn’t know what else to do to comfort himself. He’s frustrated to the moon and back, frustrated at being in this body he doesn’t want.

“I don’t think you understand, darlin’” Boothill whispers. “I miss the me I once was. I just… don’t feel quite like myself anymore…”

"You're still...my Boothill..." You pull away gently and grasp his cheek.

The corner of his lips quirk upwards at your words, but the warm touch and caress of your hand on his cheek still doesn’t feel the same. He wishes of his could feel the same kind of texture he once thrived from and took for granted in his human skin...not just his face.

It’s almost...cold to him.

“You’re the only one who can remind me of the old me that’s still lyin’ somewhere underneath this piece’o’junk body.” He murmurs.

"It's not a piece'o'junk..." You imitate him with a smile. "Boothill... you're amazing just the way you are..."

There you go smiling. If there’s anything that’s capable of changing his mood for the better, it’s you.

Boothill gives you a chuckle. “Look who’s sweet talkin’ who now,” his voice is a bit more lighthearted than previously. “You’ve gotta stop bein’ like this darlin’. You’re gonna make me blush.”

You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "Honey...look at me..." You take his face in your hands. "I love you..."

Boothill smiles, feeling your lips press against his cheek. His hands find their way to your wrists, gently caressing them and wishing he could feel your skin. He knows it's definitely a lot warmer than the cold of his steel.

“You’re a real charmer, y’know that?” He says, his voice low and amused. “I don’t reckon I can look anywhere else when ya say things like that.”

"Now...how can we make you feel better?" You hum softly in his ear.

“You have no idea how bad I want that...” Boothill replies with a grin. He pulls your face closer to his and whispers into your ear. “But you’ve got to keep those sweet words of yours comin’.” Boothill’s voice is low and seductive. “I’m starvin’ here, darlin’.”

"Pamper Queen tonight aren't we?" You laugh, placing your hand on his chest.

“Only for my darlin’.” He teases, placing a hand over yours and gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. Boothill’s other hand caresses your cheek. “Let’s be frank; you’ve gotten me spoiled rotten, and I ain’t mad about it.”

Your face contorts into a look of pure thought. "Here...since you give me massages sometimes..." You get up and walk over to his closet.

Boothill’s curious as his gaze follow your movements, hands resting on the arm rest. He wonders if you’re looking for something specific.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, darlin’?” He asks, tilting his head to rest his cheek on his metal palm, fingers pressed against his chin.

"How about we polish your metal?" You pull out some wax and a waxing machine.

Boothill’s expression changes into something resembling a mix of disbelief and shock, then into amusement as he bursts into laughter. He had an expectation for what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it.

“Is that a euphemism for something I’m not gettin’?" He jokes, his laughter trailing into a playful smirk as he watches you closely.

"Well...I don't know the equivalent of a massage for cyborgs!" You whine playfully.

Boothill chuckles as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Oh, I’m certain a few people out there would call this ‘metal maintenance’ or something.”

He then rises to his feet. “And I wouldn’t mind havin’ ya give me a good ol’ metal maintenance, darlin’. But I hope you know I’m ticklish in some spots.”

"How are you ticklish..." You murmur and plug it into the wall.

Boothill chuckles again, crossing his arms as he gazes down at the metal machine in your hands. “I’m ticklish ‘round my neck and behind my knee, believe it or not. I ain’t kiddin’.”

He walks over to you and stands before you, a grin spreading on his face. “I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna use this as a weapon against me, aren’t ya?”

"Phantom tickles on the knee I guess..." You hum and fire it up. "And it's NOT a weapon..."

“Aww, shoot… and here I was, thinkin’ you’d give me a break.” He quips, shrugging his shoulder and letting out a small chuckle.

In truth, Boothill is a little excited for you to polish him. “How are you at polishin’ machines, darlin’? Cause it ain’t gonna be clean if you don’t know what you’re doin’...” He teases as he glances at the polishing machine, then back at you.

You hesitate and cough. "I'm...great?" You quickly get to work before he can question anything.

Boothill raises a brow as he eyes you with a small, amused smirk. He has a feeling you're definitely not good with these machines.

“I’m sure ya are.” He teases, a small, playful chuckle falling from his lips.

While Boothill initially stands still, he can’t help but feel a little ticklish as he can feel the machine polish the outer surface of his thigh. “Careful with that…”

You giggle softly as you keep polishing his metal body. You slide up to his neck and carefully polish it.

A soft, amused chuckle leaves Boothill as he can’t help it. Your gentle polish on his neck is a little ticklish, which causes him to tense up from the sensation. He’d definitely describe it as ticklishness. He rests a hand on the back of your head as you polish his neck, caressing the underside of his fingers against your skin.

“Oh, what a sight to see. I’ve got my pretty lady polishin’ me to perfection.” He teases.

"D-Don't distract me or I'll move!" You whine.

“Distract you?” Boothill murmurs, his lips tilting into a small smirk. “I’m just complimentin' you.”

He gently moves your chin with a finger, guiding it to meet his gaze as he gazes down at you. “And don’t move. I like the way your beautiful eyes look when you’re focused on me.” A tease disguised as a compliment.

You freeze as your heart pounds in your chest...which was not the best move because the polisher slides right off him and shoots at the wall.

A small gasp leaves Boothill when he watches the polisher slide off him. But then he bursts into a hearty chuckle, his hands resting on his waist. His eyes are closed while he laughs, and when he’s done, he glances at the wall where the polisher’s been launched into.

“That wall didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that, darlin’...“ He teases through stifled giggles.

"Y-Yeah well...you distracted me!" You whine before sitting in his lap.

Boothill pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms naturally wrapping around your waist. As you lean against him, he can see the machine embedded into the wall from the corner of his eye. He shakes his head and laughs again.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He teases, nuzzling his face to the crook of your neck and trailing his lips against your skin.

"It's not like I did it on purpose..." You mutter into his hair.

Boothill lets out another chuckle, feeling the warmth of your breath against his head. “I know you didn’t.” He murmurs, letting out a low sigh that’s a mix of contentment and relief.

He gently presses his cheek to the top of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your waist. “I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. ‘Sides, look at the bright side.” He adds. “At least the machine didn’t land on my toes.”

"You don't even have toes!" You blink and roll your eyes.

Boothill’s expression turns into a grin as he laughs, pulling you closer to him. “See? Told ya you’re the feisty one.” He teases, tilting his head to kiss your temple. He places another kiss on the top of your head, savoring the feeling of your warmth against his.

“Maybe I don’t have toes.” He begins, placing another kiss on your cheek. “But this body’s got everything else ya need.”

"See that's my Boothill..." You smile warmly. "Don't think of yourself the way you were before...and if you do...let me know?" You whisper.

As he hears your words, a soft smile forms on Boothill's face. He places a hand on your cheek, gently stroking the side of your face as his other rests on your waist.

His eyes look deep into yours with affection, and a corner of his lips quirks upwards. “That's a mighty good offer ya’re givin’ me here, darlin’. But I’d rather you stop me from thinkin’ like that before I could.”

"Now that is a better plan..." You smile before leaning in to kiss him.

Boothill’s eyes flutter to a close as your lips press against his, a warm fluttering feeling erupting in his chest. The kiss is slow and tender, and he melts against your touch as he pulls you a little closer and into his embrace.

Once the kiss ends, Boothill opens his eyes and sighs, feeling calmer and a lot more pleasant than before.

“You’re way too good for this broken ol’ geezer.” He whispers affectionately.

"Boothill...honey... you're not even old!" You laugh softly and nuzzle against him.

Boothill lets out a low chuckle, his hand gently caressing your skin as he leans into your touch. "You sure about that, darlin'? I feel like a relic with all this metal on me."

He glances down at his metallic hand, flexing his fingers. Then, he looks back at you with a smile. “But as long as you’re tellin’ me otherwise, I guess I ain’t.”

"That's what I thought~" You press a kiss to his forehead.

A smirk spreads on Boothill’s face as he watches you kiss his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently caresses your face, his thumb rubbing your skin.

“Ain’t you a precious one?” He muses, his grin widening as he gazes at you. “I reckon I ain’t that old after all.” He adds, his teasing tone laced with an affectionate edge. “What gives you the right to be so adorable?”

"I'm your girlfriend, it's my job!" You smile warmly.

Once again, Boothill’s gaze falls into yours, and he feels a flutter in his chest at your words. He rests a hand on your waist, caressing your skin with the back of his cold metal fingers.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, a warm smile spreading on his face as he nods. His eyes lock with yours, and he lifts a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“And I reckon you’re doin’ a real good job at it, darlin’...” He adds, his voice low, warm and affectionate.

"Y'know... I'm always going to be here..." You smile. "Hey, hey!" You start to giggle. "I'm 'steel' here..." You joke.

Boothill lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head as you throw in a joke. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re real clever,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile grows wider. In all honesty, he appreciates the effort you’re putting into cheering him up.

“Ain’t a doubt in me that you’d always be here for me, darlin’.”

You kiss him one more time. This time more passionate and love infused. As you pull away you smile. "I'll always...be here..."

The unexpected passion in your kiss catches Boothill off guard and leaves him breathless. As you pull away, he lets out a low gasp, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.

When you declare your promise, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he lets the moment sink in. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and he whispers back.

“I’ll be here for you, too, darlin’...”

🎀End🎀

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt7

Howdy! I'm really proud of this one! Please enjoy! it gets funny

idk if you wanted to be tagged in this one too but, @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and of course @beelzebee

I think I should get those tumblr dividers. Also, sorry if you can't understand everything that's said here. You'll know it when you get to it. Its not the end btw.

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6

It’s a quiet night once more, this time you’re in bed, unable to sleep.

It’s been too long. He’s gone. Shot by some guy. Just like in your nightmares

You sigh and look at your clock, 1:26 AM.

ugh

You get up, your cat waking up due to it, and decide to just….pace

You do just that, trying to find reason within your rhyme. You feed makes thudding noises on the cold hard ground.

thud thud thud thud

he’ll be fine

Thud thud thud thud

he’s just recovering

Thud thud

he’s gone

Thud

no he’s not

Thud thud thud

you’ll never be able to see him again

Thud thud thud

you’ll never tell him I love you

Thud thud thud

there’s no more Mactavish finesse

Thud thud thud

he’s reduced to ashes in an urn like in your nightmares

Thud thud drip thud

you look down and realize that a tear has fallen from your face.

sigh

you told yourself that you wouldn’t end up like this. If he’s alive then this is for nothing and if he’s dead….well…then this was just added misery.

You go to the bathroom and wash your face, sniffling a little.

he’s fine

You stare at your face in the mirror, blood rushed to your nose and cheeks, puffy eyed. You didn’t look so good.

You looked tired. You’ve been holding yourself up well right?

Yeah…

Yeah you are!

You could’ve been so much worse but you held up. Even if your eyes look tired and the steady drip of water from your face to the sink makes it unclear whether or not your crying. You weren’t. you’re fine

Ugh. This is why you try not to think of him! You feel so stupid and naive and sensitive and lost and-

“mrow?”

You feel Simon brush up against your leg, stopping your train wreck of thoughts. You smile, he’s so cute no matter how grumpy he is.

“Simon” you say fondly. You lean down and pick him up into your arms, swaying him like a baby as you walk out the bathroom.

Simon’s presence helped but it can only do so much.

You rock him, pet him and scratch him as you continue to pace.

Thud thud thud

you’re so cute Simon

Thud thud thud

you’re precious

Thud thud thud

you know Johnny will come back right?

Thud click thud

you know you’re a little bastard?

Thud thud thud

yeah you know you are? A bastard just like-…..

Thud Creak thud

like….

Thud stomp thud stomp

like……

thud Stomp Thud

.

“Honey, I’m home!”

.

.

.

.

You stand there, eyes wide in shock.

“Johnny?” You whisper but it was too low for even yourself to hear.

“Aye Bonnie, ye miss me?”

Your legs felt frozen as you look at him. A bandage around his head and a few new scars onto him to show off. His bag in one hand.

“What’s wrong lassie? Ye look like ye’ve seen the dead came back tae life” he teases gently, but in a tone that indicates that he missed you.

he’s here

Johnny Came Back

You feel tears pricking your eyes, but he didn’t notice. He drops his bag down and starts walking towards you. Ready to spend his return the same way he usually spends it: watching a movie with an engorgement of take out and smothering you.

“Johnny” you whisper a little louder

Johnny smiles “the one and only. Couldn’t have ye sell my urn to the damn Brits” He chuckled

“Johnny” you whisper once again and this time he catches the weight of your tone and becomes more solemn and sincere. “Aye….it’s me Bonnie….it’s me. I’m home” Your breath hitches and your hand slowly raises to cup his jaw, feeling his overgrown facial hair. He couldn’t shave it to his preferred length.

He drops his head’s weight into your hand, rubbing his cheek into your soft palm, looking softly into your eyes with a smile.

“Johnny” you voice now breaks and your breathing audibly hitches, tears welling in your eyes.

Johnny's eyes widen in shock, as if that was somehow an unexpected reaction.

“Bonnie?”

He tries to comfort you. Tries to think of something to say

“Bonnie I-“

“I thought you were dead Johnny!” You break out.

Johnny looked more shocked. Did you get the wrong information? Or did you just assume the worst?

“No, I-“

“I thought I’d never see you again!” You cry, your shoulders shaking. He looked guilty, he opens his mouth to try to apologize but you do what you should’ve spent he moment he showed his handsome ugly mug. You hug him, tightly. Almost too tight for the worn soldier.

Johnny is startled for a moment before reciprocating, hugging you back with fervor. You wet his shirt with your tears “I thought you were gone Johnny!” You cry, shaking in his arms. “No no lassie don’t cry” he rubs your back as you take lungfuls of his scent, finally being able to breathe it in again after it faded from your home.

He rocks you slightly as you take him all in and muffle all your grievances into his shirt. Eventually he grabs your face and stares into your eyes, his face seeming so tired and pained. Your heart clenches. You should care more about how he’s feeling.

“I’m tae sorry fer words honey, I didn’t think tae tell someone tell ye I’m fine. I just, had a rough time in the hospital an-“

You hug him again “sit down you lug. You need to rest” you gently guide him to his spot on the couch, where he belongs

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” You gently ask, cupping his face with both hands and looking at his injury.

He smiles and seemed to relax more that he’s done in a while. He places his rough calloused hands on yours and closes his eyes.

“Aye Bonnie lass, ye could kiss it better” he chuckles, feeling up your hands.

.

.

.

.

he’s had a rough time. Maybe he just needs any form of affection after being hospitalized for so long

You lean in up to his temple where the bandages are and place the most gentle and delicate of kisses on it. Johnny’s breath hitches, you don’t usually kiss him why would you? You’re just friends right?

You wanted to tell him you’re in love with him, or that you wanted him and no one else. But….no. not now, he just came back and…if it’s not reciprocal you don’t want him to deal with that right now. This should be all about him and not you. No, now all you wanted was to make sure that your roommate was okay. That can….come later. If you were willing to risk it. What’s most important is that he’s here and you take care of him. Not your feelings. “Miss me that much Bonnie? I should get shot more often. Then I could get another kiss” He tries to tease but the look on your face was enough to drop the jokes. He becomes more somber, his hands on yours now stroking your forearms. He looks into your eyes, sincerity evident “I missed ye too lassie, didn’t think tae tell ye cuz I dinae think I’d be gone fer so long. Glad to hear I was missed. Nice shirt” he says but it wasn’t the usual teasing tone he had. You look down and sure enough, you’re wearing one of Soap’s shirts as pjs, his scent long done from it. You smile, sniffling a little “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried Johnny….”

“Aye, I could tell……ye dinae need to worry Bonnie lass, I’m a big strong man”

You huffed a laugh as he rubbed your eyes “Don’t be sad….your big bad sergeant is here.” You lay on top of him, face to neck, just….taking in his presence. He does the same, scratching your scalp, rubbing your back.

He’s back

Johnny came back

Johnny came home

.

.

.

.

After some time, he piped up

“Let’s watch a movie aye? I’m starvin.”

You chuckle, a much lighter and freer laugh than the ones you’ve been making for months. Free from your worries about Johnny

“Of course Johnny. I’ll order you take out”

You kiss his nose. He gives you that signature smile of his.

“Yer spoilin me, love”

“Don’t you forget it”

"how could I ever?"

____________________

It felt so good going back to an old routine. Your movements were unfamiliar and rusty as you sit and eat take out with Johnny at 2:17 AM while a movie was on. He already finished 2 meals but the soldier was still going at it like the dog he was.

“Better than any hospital slop I tells ye!”

You smile, softer and fonder than Johnny remembers, and settle in the routine you remember you had before he left. A blanket tossed over both of you legs, an arm wrapped around some part of you. This time it was around your neck while he ate, a bit awkward but you were not about to complain. He was back and that was all that mattered. He finished up his feast and went back to watching some silly movie based on a tumblr post.

It’s about a random Asian kid whose plane goes down somewhere in Scotland, and he learns traditional Scottish kickboxing. The wise old mentor speaks with an indecipherable Highland accent, Johnny somehow understands and translates for you, and spends the whole film in a full kilt for no particular reason. He goes back to China to reclaim his parent's company made in the style of those "mediocre white boy learns the secrets of ancient martial arts" movies. It’s a funny concept and a movie you’ve been wanting to watch for months but didn’t because….well….Johnny wasn’t here. You couldn’t watch this without him.

And you’re so glad you didn’t because now as Johnny has his warm arm wrapped around you, gentler than usual due to his injuries on his arm. His mouth is near your ear as he ‘translates’ English to English. It doesn’t really matter what he was saying. All that mattered is hearing his raspy deep voice reverberating in your ear. Usually you’d tell yourself you could drag yourself to bed after the movie but you knew couldn’t drag yourself to bed after all this. You wanted to fall asleep on this couch with him. But just before you resigned yourself to that wonderful fate, you remember something.

“Are you going to sleep here Johnny?” You asked

“Aye, can’t anger the sleeping tiger. I won’t move an inch wee Bonnie don’t ye worry”

You sit up and look at him while the movie was Montaging with terrible bagpipe music “No. You need to rest on an actual bed. You’re still recovering”

“Ye dinae need tae worry aboot me love. I’m fi-“

“Johnny.” You say sternly “you’ve been shot in the head don’t BS me now after all that” your voice cracked a bit when you mentioned his terrible injury.

Johnny sighs and smiles “I could get used tae being babied like this”

His tone was teasing but somehow you had a feeling he did wanted to be babied, to be treated and spoken to gently in a way he couldn’t get in a military setting.

You sigh and smile. “One movie okay? Then I’ll run you a bath, rub your back, maybe change your bandages and scratch your hair till you fall asleep in a bed sound good Johnny?” His eyes were enticed but he just had to be a goofy little guy doesn’t he?

“Cannae read me a bedtime story?” He teased. You giggled and nodded. You had a feeling he just wanted to hear your voice “I’ll tell you the story of the ugly duckling. I’m sure you’ll relate” you joke back

“Aye, sing me a lullaby too?”

“You motherfucking bastard.” You roll your eyes with a smile “yeah I’ll sing you a song about how John and Jill when up the hill to fetch a pail of whisky. John fell down and broke his crown and Jill couldn’t see him for months while he was in the hospital.”

“Dinae my fault Bonnie!”

“I know baby I know” you coo, calling him a baby but Soap seemed to be very happy being called that.

“As soon as the movie’s over I’ll show my baby just how much I missed him. Wake me up if I sleep okay? If you don’t you’ll never get that bedtime story ye hear?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good boy”

You lay back down next to him, continuing to watch the silly movie, the Chinese kid is somehow the chosen one from some ancient Scottish texts made when during some important historical British-Scottish conflict. How did they seriously think that a dizi (bamboo flute) mixed with a bagpipe would make a good soundtrack? And how are they right?

Whatever, it’s not like you were paying much attention when Johnny was stroking your arm right next to you, leaning in and rubbing his scratchy chin against yours, murmuring comments and ‘translations’ that may not even be that accurate. God you missed him. The movie ends with a Scottish themed “Kung Fu fighter” esque credits song.

He automatically hums something about putting on another movie. “Johnny it’s like 3 and a half in the morning”

“Dinnae care Bonnie. Missed ye”

“C’mon Johnny, I’ll tuck you in bed” you tease He grips you tighter into him “I’m tucked in enough like this”

You smile, wide and so happy.

“C’mon Johnny” you whisper into his ear, scratching his scalp, careful to avoid the injury “those clothes can’t be comfortable. Let’s change into something nicer hmm?”

He sighs contently “only if ye keep that up Bonnie…..feels like heaven”

“Deal”

You leave him to turn on the bath faucet, making sure it’s the right temperature before going back to clean up the take out. He tried to help but you told him firmly to “stay” and like a good boy he does. He watches you walk around the flat like a puppy, eyes glued to your form and glimmering so fondly.

You check the bath and it’s ready.

As you turn to call for him “Johnn-“ you bump into him directly. He followed you here, unable to be away from you. You huff a laugh and lean on him.

“Take a bath Johnny. You could use one of my bath bombs too.”

“Stay with me?” He whines

“I’m not gonna watch you bathe Johnny. You clingy dog.” You chuckle and flick his nose “but I’ll be waiting for you when you come out okay?”

You walk out, feeling his lingering gaze on your back. You go get his bed ready.

It’s…not clean. You’re not proud to admit you’ve slept here on more than one occasion due to his absence. It was a mess of Soap’s belongings. A pile of clothes, some things that reminded you of him, things of the like. You clean it up, place a new bedsheet and pillow case, along with a plushie of a kitten with a mohawk, a gift from you.

(The kitten. Image description: a cute kitten with what looks like a mohawk of fur on it's head. end/ID)

(i-it looks better in the story! but the collar is still there /ID a plushie of the mohawk kitten but it looks crudely made and grumpy with a spiky collar /end ID)

You were admiring your clean up before your were startled by a strong set of hands around your waist and a head into your neck and shoulder. “Johnny! You scared me” He breaths in your scent, while being towel clad “hmm….Bonnie…”

You giggle and turn around, your smile dropping when come face to face with his bared chest. There were more bandages you didn’t see before, new scars and burns. You tsk, gently touching the bandages as he gazed at you “you poor thing…they must hurt so much….”

“…..”

you look up at him “do they hurt? Do you need me to change them or painkillers?”

“I’m fine lovie…”

You shake your head “I left some at your bedside just in case darling.”

“…thank you lassie…what would I do without ye?”

“Die in a ditch apparently”

He smiles, rubbing his thumbs on your waist.

“Never leave me…”

I blush a little at how he said that. Like it wasn’t just a roommate thing. “Never…..let’s get you to bed. I’m sure you’re so tired”

“Nae, I still got an enough for that bedtime story and lullaby”

You laugh “you're such a baby…okay get dressed”

He, being the bastard he is, decided to go “aye” and take off his towel right then and there.

You squeak in surprise and avert your eyes

“Johnny!!”

“What? Like what you see?”

You whine and mumble as he laughs “get dressed!”

You hear a chuckle and him opening the closet, a moment later he speaks “Ye can look now hen”

You turn around and low and behold he didn’t even put on anything “JOHNNY!” You slap your hands over your eyes as he laughs.

“What’s the matter hen?”

“JOHNNY I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“Aye aye, I’ll get dressed.”

You hear some movement as he wears actual clothes, not a lot of clothes but still something

“You can look now, fer real this time”

“So you’re decent?”

“Not morally but I’m wearing pants”

You turn to look and lo and behold this man only put boxers on.

You groan and roll your eyes

“How’s that decent Sergeant Soap?”

“Cannae see my tadger. And it’s Johnny to you.”

You pretty much can see it honestly but you let him.

“Lay on your stomach”

“Be gentle with me hen”

“Of course”

“I’ve been a good boy”

“Shut it”

“Yes ma’am”

You look at the tragic state of his back, pity pulling at your heartstrings.

“Tell me if it hurts too much okay?”

“You can never hurt me hen.”

“Johnny.”

“Aye aye, I will”

You sigh and pull out some oils you have along with a muscle gel that should alleviate any pain he’s brushing off in favor of seeming strong or okay. You know he's usually sore after expending himself so much during his job.

“Yer spolin’ me bloody rotten”

“Shush”

You climb on the bed and gently rub in the oil first

“Nae, could barely feel it.”

You press harder

“It tickles”

You press harder

“Das it”

You roll you eyes and do this. Feeling your face heat up every time he groans and sighs. You later put on the muscle relaxant and he sighs and groans even louder, his voice becoming even deeper due to his tiredness, making your insides mushy.

“Oh…right there…hmm…lower”

You go lower

“Lower”

Alright…

“Lower”

“Any lower and I’ll be touching your ass”

“Aye”

“Okay that’s enough time for bed” you get off him and he whines

“Nooo. I’m so sorry bonnie please come back. I’ll behave”

“Oh really? Never seen you behave once in your life Mactavish” you scold as you put away the things

“Gie me a laldy then”

“Goodnight Johnny” you turn to leave

“No! Wait!” He jumps and yanks you from behind.

“What is it Johnny?”

“Ye Haven’t tucked me in with a bedtime story yet.” He whines

You sigh but secretly you’re smiling wide at his antics, just glad to go through them again. Leave it to Johnny to overcommit to the bit.

“Aight here’s your bedtime story Ya wee sook” you reply, turning to face him. He was shocked “Ya we- where did ye learn tha’?”

“I learnt it from a very sexy Scottish lad once upon a time” you say as you start literally tucking him into bed, the bastard really has you wrapped around his finger.

His face turns red and his smile wide and bright like the sun.

“An’ do I ken this mysterious Scottish lad?”

“Aye” you mimic his accent

He chuckles “tell me about him” he lays down under the covers laying on his side away from the injury. You think for a moment, then a deeply devious and mischievous look came on your face. You grin and began describing.

“He’s sexy, charming, funny, he’s got a cute pet, he’s a like knight who saves princesses, he’s large and strong with a Scottish accent.” You list off as Soap’s face goes brighter and happier. He wouldn’t say ‘save princesses’ but he wasn’t going to really correct you. If you see him as a hero who is he to complain

“I wouldn’t say that. What else?”

“Oh but of course he was. His people were in trouble, and he went out to save them” he shook his head, adorable wee civi aintcha?

You continue “He lived alone for a very long time till he met one woman he began to live with”

“Was she pretty?”

“The fairest in the land” He chuckles and settles in more, getting comfortable as you tell this grown ass man his fucking bedtime story

“what happened?”

“They got married”

His eyes widen in shock as his face and ears turn a hot red. He clears his throat that suddenly became very dry. Did…did this mean what he think it meant?

“Tha’ right?”

“Hmm hmm”

“I like the sounda that”

“Then they lived happily ever after”

Soap looked at you with shocked eyes

“Tha’ so?”

“Hmm hmm”

He quickly put a mask of faux confidence, putting on his big goofy smile. Pride swells in your heart for making him smile so brightly. He clearly needed it.

“And who May this dashing man be?”

“I’ll give you a hint”

“Aye”

“His name starts with an S”

He chuckles

“I think I ken who it is Bonnie”

“Oh really?” You ask, your face growing more excited “who is it”

He pulls his arm out from under the blanket and wraps it around you “tis’ me, Soap. And it’s Johnny to you sweetheart”

His grip tightens as he drags you closer to him, he shoves his face into your stomach, his heart suddenly beating too fast. Is this….your confession? Did you really just say you’ll marry him? Looks like those military spouse benefits are too tempting. He looks up, eyes hopeful and ready for his dreams to come true. That you’ll become Mrs Mactavish and he’s your Prince Charming.

“Wrong.” You suddenly say.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Wha?”

“I said wrong”

“T…then who’s the big strong sexy Scottish lad who marries the fairest in the land?”

“Shrek”

.

.

.

.

“Ye. fuckin’. right. SleEkiT bAmPOT!!”

You burst out laughing hard, doubling over and laughing so hard you collapse on the bed with him. But he doesn’t appreciate that

“Away an’ bile ye head! ye absolute weapon!” He practically yells

“Yer a right glaikit shan wee gobshite! Ye fuckin’ bastard cunt!!”

He raves and raves unintelligibly as you seem to get a six pack just from how hard you’re laughing and occasionally snorting like a pig. You’ve never heard so many Scottish insults in your life. Or at least you would hear them if you weren’t laughing!

Eventually, he shuts up and your laughs slow down. You look at Soap after wiping away your joyful tears. But unfortunately, The look on his face made you burst into laughter all over again.

“Alright alright that’s enough” he huffs and shakes his head, throwing an arm around your face to quiet you.

“Okay okay! I’m done!” You claim, your laughter lowering.

Johnny looked so done with you it was priceless. You were still in a fit of giggles as he shook his head

“Seriously hen? Shrek?”

“Whaaat?” You ask as if you could feign innocence as you’re giggling uncontrollably

“Shrek is the big sexy scott?”

“Yeah!” You laugh

“He bathes in mud Bonnie! He’s nasty” he says disgusted as if he doesn't have worse hear me outs

“And you’re not?”

“Oh that’s it ye-“ he jumps you and harshly man handles you. Pinning you with his big weight, restricting your breathing by pressing on your chest, just being an overall rough housing bastard. It’s not bad enough to cause actual legitimate harm but it’s rougher than he’s ever been with you.

“Johnnyy! Mercy I beg you!” You whine, trying to squirm away and kicking up your legs

“There’s no Johnny here now leannan! Now it’s sergeant Soap! And yer taking discipline!”

You wheeze at the lack of oxygen his man handling is doing, you didn’t have much in you anyway from laughing so much. He growls into your ear and pins your squirmy hands to your chest.

“Johnnyyy! I can’t breathe!” You wheeze out

“Shrek eh?”

You breathlessly giggle at your joke

“Shrek is the sexy charming and funny man who taught you what a wee sook is?”

You wheeze another giggle, unable to stop laughing at the joke.

“Anyone else?”

You try to wheeze an answer “s-s..”

but he doesn’t understand so he lets go. You breath in a desperate deep breath

“Answer the question lassie.”

“What question?” You tease, giggling. He growls and places his pillow on your face to quiet you

“Who’s the charming Scotsmen that makes ye laugh!”

He removes the pillow to get an answer

“Scrooge McDuck”

“You wee lil shite!” He smothers you with the pillow again, so you won’t even have a chance to laugh.

He removes the pillow as you wheeze with a smile

“Wrong answer”

“Whaaat? He’s funny!”

“Tsk. Who’s the Scottish soldier who’s strong and witty”

“James Bond”

“Leannan!!!” He wraps his arm around you in a headlock, he’s done that plenty times before and even taught you how to do it and get out of it, it almost slipped your mind due to your giggling.

You do try to get out of it but he just tightens his hold

“Think ye’re strong, do ye lassie? I’ll show ye strong, ya wee twig!” He growls

“Johnny!” You whine “mercy!”

“No mercy to the enemy bonnie.” He bites your cheek

“Eww! You dog!” You whine and squirm “okay okay you win!”

She shakes his head, mouth still filled with your cheek “Johnny! Please! You’re gross!”

He bites harder

“Away with ye ya daftie!” You poorly mimic He laughs and lets go. You rub your saliva covered cheek on his bicep.

“You’re gross. Let go”

“Nae”

“Johnny.” You try to be stern

“Nah. You need to tell me who th-“

“It’s you! It’s you Johnny! You’re the big, strong, funny, charming Scot that saves princesses!” He lets go, letting you drop on the bed with a thud.

“That’s right lass. Say it again”

“It’s you Johnny. You’re the one I wait in my tower for.”

“Tha’ right?” He says, smiling down at you

“Yeah…it is…”

He smiles and lays down once more

“Either that or Hagrid”

“Bonnie.” He asserts sternly

“Sorry sorry Johnny”

“Brat.”

“Bastard.”

“Your bastard.”

“Your brat.”

You both shake your heads. You sigh and realize how tired you are. You look to the digital clock on Johnny's bedside table. Jesus.

“I’m so sorry Johnny” you get up

“What is it?” He asks, lost

“Just look at the time! A little more and it’ll be sunrise. You need to rest after all that” you hop off the bed but Johnny grips you

“Naee. I’m fine” he whines. Truth was he was exhausted down to the bone, but this was the most affectionate you’ve ever been.

“What is it Johnny?” You sigh

“I haven’t gotten my lullaby”

You groan. You were tired too but you wanted to take care of him.

“Please Bonnie! My heart needs tae be soothed after all tha’. Ye called me nasty :(”

“You’re a big baby Mactavish”

“Aye” he shoves you back to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to lightly scratch his scalp.

“I….don’t have a song..”

“Anythin’s good”

“🎶Somebody once told me th-“

He pinches your waist

“Hahaha, okay not that one”

“…”

“Hmm….🎶we’re no strangers go love. You know the rules and so do-Ouch!”

He grumbles as you giggle

“Then what do you want baby?”

“Quit takin the piss outta me” he grunts “sing…somethin’ calmin’” You think for a bit and a song comes to mind, you think a solider like him could do some good knowing his song.

(A/N: I’m so sorry for what you’re about to sing)

“🎶There's a shadow on the wall, stay calm, stay calm 🎶

🎶There's a figure in the hall, stay calm, stay calm🎶

🎶Keep my wits and stay alive, wish I had a nine to five 🎶

🎶There's a stranger in us all, stay calm, stay calm🎶”

He relaxes and listens intently. Finally a normal song, he thinks foolishly

“🎶Every hair is on it's end, that's fine, I'm fine🎶

🎶Feeling my adrenaline, that's fine I'm fine 🎶

🎶I can keep away the creeps, safely from my swivel seats🎶 🎶Something's crawling through the vents, that's fine I’m fine🎶”

You start humming to him while scratching his head gently. He sighs and cuddles up to your waist more, rubbing his bandaged head gently against you.

“🎶In the end there's only me alright, alright 🎶

🎶 Morning sun will set me free, all right, all right🎶”

His face was calm and droopy, ready to rest his tired war used bones. He looked like he could sleep through the winter.

“🎶I spent..um…many months away from you🎶”

You hum him the tune as he falls asleep, looking peaceful.

After you’re done you sit there admiring him for a moment, seeing him home, not in one piece but home made you take the time to appreciate his presence.

You yawn, realizing that you could see the sunrise peeking from the curtains. Wow it’s late, but it’s worth it. He’s had such a rough time and deserves all the comfort you could give him. You slowly and quietly try to leave the bed, thinking he’s asleep. Only for him, the baby he is, to grip you hard and force you into bed

“Johnny!” You whine, this time whinnier than ever.

“Give me a kiss goodnight princesses”

“Johnny.”

“Please leannan? Last thing I’ll ask o�� ye and I’ll sleep” he sleepily grumbles while gripping you like a stuffed animal. You felt so….vulnerable like this. You’ve never been in his bed with him.

“Promise?”

“Aye”

“Pinky promise?” You tease

“Aye aye just gimmie a Smourich and I’ll sleep”

“Sigh”

“Please”

“Fine” you wiggle in his iron grip to lean up to him and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He smiles, eyes still closed as he settles in one last time. “Goodnight love.”

“Goodnight Johnny” you smile, moving to get out of his grip and go to b-you can’t get out.

Johnny's grip is strong around you. “Johnny?” You pipe up and wiggle to try and move away. He doesn’t budge

“Johnny.” You more firmly and look up to see his sleeping face as if he knocked out cold within seconds of getting a goodnight kiss. “Johnny!” You whine “you bastard! Let me go”

No response

“Johnnyyy!!!” You flop like a fish in his grip but nope! Too bad! You’re stuck!

“Johnny I know you’re awake I swear to god if you don’t let me go right now!”

No response but you swear he’s doing this on purpose. You groan and struggle for a few more moments till you feel a soft furry mass lay on your side, Simon. He fell asleep on the couch after the movie and a joyful (as joyful as Simon could he) reunion with Johnny. You freeze up as Simon gets comfortable, laying on you. You wouldn’t wake up a cat would you? Especially not one so grumpy and tired. No, you sit there without moving a muscle and wait. Cat owner rules.

Welp….looks like you’re sleeping in a big man’s arms tonight. The position makes you flustered but between the unconsciousness of the bastard sergeant, the softness of your cat and your sleep deprived mind body and soul. You decide fuck it and just fell asleep in your roommate’s bed. It’s cozy like this anyway. You’re knocked out cold within the minute.

AN: This is NOT the end!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Better Late Than Never

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: a bathroom counter make out with your husband, Eddie

word count: 1k

The bathroom counter was cluttered with various makeup products and brushes that you had been using to get ready for the night. You were always so caught up in perfecting your looks that you barely even noticed when you had made such a mess until it was time to clean up. Maybe it was unfair to the person who you shared the bathroom with, but he hardly minded.

Eddie, your husband, was sitting on the counter next to your sink, watching you like he always insisted on doing any time you got ready. He claimed to find the whole process fascinating, loving the techniques you used to apply everything. He was always there to give you feedback and hype you up no matter how crazy or weird of a look you were doing. He was your number one fan no matter what.

You grabbed your eyeliner pencil that had been sitting on the counter next to Eddie and gave him a smile as you did so. The smile was returned, love clear in his eyes. He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it before letting you have it back.

You applied the eyeliner to your upper and lower lash lines then pulled down your bottom lid to line your waterline. Eddie always found that part particularly fascinating; how it always seemed to make the whole thing come together. Especially when it all smudged after a full day of wearing it.

Maybe he liked it so much because he wished he could wear it. He wanted to, and had even wanted to ask you to help him apply it, but he could never get the guts. He had recited his vows to you in front of a whole church full of people, but couldn’t ask for a little liner? Why did it scare him so much?

You turned to him and he hadn’t realized that he had been so close until he noticed that your noses were almost touching. You could see him eyeing the pencil in your hand and knew exactly what he was wanting. You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t just come out and say it. You wouldn't have judged him. In fact, you thought that men wearing eyeliner was hot.

“Do you want some, honey?” You asked, and he just nodded.

“Please?” He asked and you moved to stand in between his legs. He grabbed hold of your waist and you took the eyeliner and slowly lifted it up to his left eye, giving him a chance to back out if he wanted to.

“Close your eyes,” You instructed and he obeyed, closing his eyes. You slowly and gently lined the top lid, rubbing it with your finger to give it the smoky look. You thought that would look the best with his eye shape and color. You then lined the bottom lid, doing the exact same thing before moving to the other eye, trying your best to make them look somewhat even.

“Waterline too?” You asked and he just furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't up to date on the makeup terminology so he honestly had no idea what you were talking about. “Here,” you pointed to the spot on yourself and he nodded enthusiastically.

You lowered his bottom eyelid and moved as quickly as possible since it was his first time and you knew it could feel uncomfortable. You then lined his other eye then pulled back to examine your work, nodding to yourself in approval. You grabbed your mirror from your makeup bag and handed it to Eddie so he could see for himself before moving out of the way so he could get a better look.

He let out a gasp at his reflection, moving the mirror every which way to see it at different angles, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe how good he looked, how hot. He knew that you were good at doing makeup, but you had truly outdone yourself. You made him look like the rockstars he had always looked up to, the ones he aspired to be just like. Now that he had a little taste, he was going to have to ask you to do it for him everyday.

“Darling,” he gasped again. “I look hot.” He set the mirror aside so he could see you again and beckoned you forward with his pointer finger. You stepped between his legs once again and he rested his hands on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping his arms around you.

“I agree,” you nodded. “But I always think you’re hot.”

“Babe, do you have a crush on me?” He teased and you just rolled your eyes.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re literally married.”

“Just answer the question, y/n.” He pulled you closer to him, his lips right by your ear.

“Yes, Eds, I have a crush on you.” Sometimes he was so ridiculous, but you couldn’t help but love him. He made it so easy.

“Don’t say that too loud, my wife might hear you,” he whispered, making goosebumps rise on your arms. “Now give me some sugar.”

You pressed your lips to his in a quick peck and tried to move away, but his arms only wrapped around you tighter. You let out a laugh at how childish he was acting. He didn’t play when it came to your kisses. If he had it his way, he would have kissed you forever.

“Eddie,” you laughed. “We have to finish getting ready.”

“One kiss and I’ll let you go.” You knew there was no getting out of it, but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Needy,” you replied, leaning into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed along your back as his face inched towards yours.

“Very.” His lips slotted between yours in a gentle kiss which was typical to expect when he had asked. Those kinds of kisses were always filled with so much love, as if he was trying to show you exactly how he felt with his lips.

His arms tightened around you as he licked into your mouth. You let out a laugh as you pulled away, Eddie trying to chase your lips as you did so.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re going to be late.” You both were supposed to be at Robin’s in twenty minutes for her birthday party and now you were definitely going to be late. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. This was very like you and Eddie since you had become a couple all those years ago.

You had become the kind of couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But only behind closed doors. When in public, the most you would do was hold hands. Over time, your entire friend group had become aware of your inability to be able to keep your hands to yourselves and made fun of you for it. It had become a joke between all of them and you had let them laugh because it had been true, after all.

“So?” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Everyone already assumes we’re going to be late anyway. Why not take advantage?” Another kiss, this one lingering.

“Eddie, we can’t fuck right now,” you rolled your eyes.

“No one said anything about fucking, darling. I just want some kisses. Can you do that for your hubby?”

“If you never refer to yourself as my hubby ever again.”

“Consider it a deal, sugar.” He pulled you in for another kiss, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, letting him inside. His tongue roamed around, roughly scraping against yours. His legs wrapped around your waist, causing the two of you to be chest to chest.

Eddie leaned into you, his hands moving down your back only to go up your shirt and underneath your bra. He lifted your shirt over your head, setting it next to him before removing his own. His lips pressed to your neck then moved down to your shoulder, moving the strap of your bra to give him more access.

“So pretty,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “So so pretty.”

“You’re the pretty one,” you replied and his lips moved back up to yours.

“Let’s agree that we’re both pretty, okay?” You supposed you could agree to that. Although, you liked having the little argument about who was prettier. He was always going to win that competition.

“Sounds good,” you replied, moving your hands to his hair, pressing your lips to his once more. Your fingers pressed into his scalp as you licked into his mouth and he let out a moan as you grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“So good, baby,” he whined, his legs wrapping tighter around your waist. You backed away and he removed his legs from you. He then leapt off the counter and you took him by the hand to lead him to your shared bedroom. You were so going to be late to the party.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Humm🤔, 18 or 31? With mid 70s Elvis.

I just always picture him with funny girl, thats just showers him with love but also is a funny person and wild to be around! Keeping Elvis always on his toes. But teaching to be a little selfish for himself too.😊

Cutie pie

A/N: Cute! I chose cheek pinching.

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 1K

TWs: Angst. That's about it. Otherwise it's pretty fluffy.

“Honey, stop that.”

You’re pinching Elvis’ cheek between your thumb and forefinger and giggling as you do it. He isn’t pleased. 

“Why? You look so cute.”

“I ain’t cute,” he replies, grabbing your wrist and squeezing it hard, making you let go of him with a little “ow!”

“Are too,” you reply, waiting until he’s let go of your wrist and then immediately pinching both cheeks at once. “Such a cutie pie… ahhh!”

You squeal as he grabs both of your wrists and pushes your arms behind your back, wrapping one big hand around both of your tiny wrists as he stands up, towering over you and frowning. 

“I’ve had about enough, lil girl.”

His other hand wraps around your jaw, fingers pinching just a little. 

“Sorry,” you pout, trying to look apologetic. 

“Hmmm.”

He looks down into your pretty blue eyes. He’s not sure you really are sorry. He wishes you wouldn’t pinch him like this. He feels fat enough as it is without you going on about his cute face all the time. 

“I promise I’ll stop bothering you,” you tell him. He’s been reading through paperwork at his desk all morning and you’ve been bored, and his cheeks have looked… pinchable. But you can find another way of occupying yourself. Probably. 

Elvis hums again, then lets go of your face and moves his hand to the top of your arm rather than your wrists, manoeuvring you to the other side of the room. 

“There,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing until you sit down on the armchair. “Sit. Be quiet. Daddy has to work.”

You nod and smile and cross one leg over the other, folding your hands neatly in your lap. He looks at you for a minute, and then walks back to his desk. You try to stay still and be quiet but it doesn’t last long. 

“What’re you doing?”

He huffs. “Writin’ cheques. I told ya that earlier.”

You nod silently and try to spend a while thinking about writing cheques and serious things like that. But it’s very boring. You’re more of an action sort of girl, you like to be outside doing things, whether that’s riding horses or painting fences. You’re not a big fan of being trapped indoors like this. This year it seems like when Elvis isn’t touring he’s locked up in Graceland, and it’s driving you a little nuts. 

“You got many more to do?”

“Loads.”

Another silence, where you try really hard to do what he wants, but inevitably you fail. Getting up from the chair, you very quietly creep towards him, completely forgetting there’s a big old mirror in front of the desk until it’s too late. He looks up at your reflection tiredly. 

“Why don’tcha go out and have a ride on Milly or something?”

Milly is your roan mare, and you’d like to ride her but not on your own. You want company. There’s not that much of that around here lately either. 

“Will you come with me?”

Elvis closes his eyes wearily and shakes his head. “I have these cheques, honey.”

“You’ve been doing them all morning,” you tell him, your hands falling onto his shoulders. He tries to shrug you off but your fingers grip him tightly, and then you start to push your thumbs into the base of his neck, massaging there. He lets out a little involuntary sigh. “Why don’t you give yourself a break?” You ask, not just talking about the cheques. 

“Honey, I…” he begins, but then his eyes close in pleasure as you squeeze and knead his shoulders and then press your thumbs all the way up his neck. Grasping at the very base of his skull, you push your thumb and forefinger into the flesh underneath the bone, pulling back and pushing forward until you hear him moan. 

“Feel good?” You ask.

“Mmmm. So good, honey. Don’t stop.”

You grin, pleased, massaging behind his ears, his temples, his forehead. You can feel him relaxing under your touch. 

“How’s that?”

“Amazin’. You’ve magic fingers, honey.”

You kiss the top of his head. “Thanks. You wanna come out for a ride with me now?”

Your hands are still massaging, back to his shoulders now and much more gently than before. You look at his reflection hopefully. 

“Ah, maybe in a bit.”

Sensing the opportunity for negotiation, you keep talking. “How many more cheques have you got to do?”

He tilts his head to one side, curious as to what you’re up to. “This pile here.”

“Okay. Five more then come for a ride with me. Then the rest after.”

He smiles, realising when he’s beaten. “Alright then. C’mere, you.” Pushing his chair back from the desk, he turns and pulls you into his lap. You grin as he gently brushes your hair from your face and then presses a kiss to your cheek. “I guess I can take some time out. We’ll go now.”

You throw your arms around his neck joyfully, kissing first one cheek then the other. 

“Yay!”

Your enthusiasm warms him inside, he loves seeing you so happy and full of life. Sometimes he thinks it’s the only reason he gets up in the morning. 

“Still think you’re cute,” you tell him, as he smiles at you, his cheekbones prominent. You know you’re pushing your luck but you can’t help it. He is cute. 

He hums and shakes his head, but he can’t keep the little smile off his face. “Fine. Ya can think that. Jus’ don’t go tellin’ anyone.”

You kiss him firmly. “I won’t. Cutie pie.”

He growls, grabbing you and tickling your sides a little. You giggle and squirm. “An’ definitely no tellin’ them yer callin’ me that.”

He stops the tickling and your foreheads press together. “Promise I won’t,” you whisper, conspiratorially. “It’ll be my secret name for you,” you tell him, pressing your lips together and hoping he’ll say yes. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, feeling himself colour a little. 

You kiss the corner of his mouth and then across his cheek, finishing at the sensitive patch of skin under his ear. You feel him wriggle underneath you. 

“Cutie pie,” you whisper. 

***

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[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

[thecameronchronicles]

Lessons With Mister Cameron

TW: sex without a condom, "public" sex, surrender of virtue, manipulative behavior, dirty talk, vulgarity, rafe is a warning all himself, isn't he?

SUMMARY: You always thought it was a fantasy until he calls you after class to discuss your paper and decides you need a more hands-on approach.

Lessons With Mister Cameron

"Y/N?"

Your eyes rise in a swift snap that stabilize where you actively evade every day in your second class of the day.

Cool blue eyes appearing ready above a smirk widen your own to the particular focus he leaves for you to discern. But it is the particular fullness of those tempting lips on topics that should bore you to death that make you the avid scholar. Only now, the sudden attention from him makes you question the last five minutes of class as you were busy in a daydream of his touch.

In what would be your first touch.

"Once the hour is over, come see me...yeah?" His gold pinky ring catches the light as he rubs his lips, drawing an unfair attention. You can only nod as any words feel jumped on the tip of your tongue. A sheen of something mirroring pride cast in his eyes and it leaves you going over everything you have done for his class.

You wonder if you made a mistake where he will offer extra credit, your mind drifting to a more illicit way your inexperienced body was willing to give it. You fidget in the worry of your lip and fingers in rush through your hair before ultimately coming to the dreaded final moment of the class.

"Remember that my office is closed on Tuesday." He calls to the class, most in a rush to carry on with whatever collegiate party is already beginning across campus. Meanwhile, you wait until the room clears until finally standing.

Your legs feel unstable as you come to his desk as he has his back turned but a smirk in the tilt of of his head as he pulls up a paper.

Your paper.

Of those you have aced, you understand precisely why it is that he holds it with such regard.

"I dont want to have to fail you..." Your breath squeezes only the gasp of an exhale.

"Please Mister Cameron-" His brows knit and his jaw clenches in anger.

"Mister," he unwinds his fists at the title and pulls tension from his neck with a cock of it. "Cameron was my father..." He issues a step forward, expensive cologne awakens your want to humor whatever mischief dances behind his eyes.

"You can call me sir." The swallow is heavy as you nod.

"Y-yes sir."

"You're an innocent little thing aren't you?" He asks in a turn around his desk, the words almost unbelievable if not for the grin lifting half of his mouth in amusement.

"I-"

"You would have to be to misunderstanding the subject. Almost like you haven't...been intimate." You swallow and it meets somewhere against the attempt to breathe until you are rigid.

You wonder if it is obvious.

How can be possibly know you're a virgin from the lacking detail of a paper? Why not just assuming you're a prude?

"Now I can't send you into the world," he extends his hand before leading it back in and loose at his side as if exhausted, "with such a misunderstanding. I need you to sit for me." You begin to step in the direction of the front lecture chair before he makes some call between a whistle and distaste. You see him tapping the edge of his desk.

"Here." There is no honey in his tone. It's more like whiskey and you have an overwhelming pull to be intoxicated by it.

You place your silhouette on that which he summoned before he turns away and begins to write. He could have written the answers to an upcoming test and all you could focus on was the muscles working against the tight fabric of his shirt.

A snap of his fingers tore you from a vision of the fabric around you as you climbed the length of him as he lay outstretched in bed. Maybe this desk-

"Where is that mind running off to? Hmm?" He asks using his pinky to force a look from you. His touch is limited but enough to send sparks instead of blood through your veins.

"I'm...nervous, Mister-" his brow flexes, "sir..."

He seems pleased. Deeply, sinfully, pleased.

"Let us begin with the act itself as you seemed to glaze over the necessary details..." A diagram stands before you; a man and a woman.

"Have you ever been aroused, Miss Y/LN?" You slowly nod. A moment of silence lay between you as if he wants details. A fire behind his eyes validates this before he moves on.

"It happens as the body's response to stimulation. Foreplay can heighten the response-"

"Foreplay?" You almost whisper, the word somehow dirty.

"Yes. What a boy-or girl does to turn you on..." His expression shifts from contentment to intrigue, almost astonishment.

"A kiss, if done right...a caress..." His head cocks as he steps just against the skin of your legs. "Dirty words for innocent minds needing it to get, in your case...wet." You struggle to breathe. His scene, his proximity, the tension, it's all too much.

"It can be anything tender or vulgar, up to the taste of the person. In my experience, it's the gentle stimulation of a girl that makes her the most ready..."

"L-like what s-sir?"

"Like... rubbing her nipples....kissing her neck....juuust tracing her clit." The images flash for all but the last.

"You've never had anyone touch you there before have you, Miss Y/LN." He is impossibly close, the features you managed to fantasize over are amplified until you're breathless.

You can only shake your head, too embarrassed.

"Mmm...There are different kinds of people. Some who like to rush. Some who prefer to take their time. Me, I'm a proactive type of person, but I digress...I prefer to show...not tell...May I?" He motions for your thighs and you nod, your body alive by its own ambition as you can only wait in awe.

Your first touch. From HIM.

"Take your hand and feel." You shouldn't. Someone could come in. Someone could report you or him. He could lose his job. You could get kicked off campus. But the heat behind his eyes makes you tempt the reasons and worries until you're obeying.

"There's so many sensitive little parts there, but my favorite is that little button-" When your eyes are heavy he grins. "There...." His hand is over yours, not touching more than the skin of your fingers and yet it is erotic beyond that of your own touch.

"Do exactly what feels good..." He leans over you, dragging his nose along your shoulder as he inhales.

"Dammit..." You whimper as he looks with lustful eyes narrowed in need.

"Foreplay for a man?" He unbuckles himself, the sound of buckle and stretched vinyl resonate through you.

"To stroke..." He gently escorts your hand, giving plenty of time to pull away, but you only feel beckoned. Only it isn't to wrap around him, he holds your palm upright.

"Spit on it. Get it really wet." You pause before he uses his other hand to your jaw, his thumb guiding your mouth open.

"Tongue out." He spits and you are tempted to swallow the taste of him. You obey instead, as he motions exactly where he wants it. You then lubricate his hand in your dual spittle until he drives it against him.

"Oh yeah...." His head comes back, eyes closed, apple of his throat bobbing in unkempt pleasure. "Rub your thumb over the head-ohhh yeah...yeah yeah yeah..." His brows clench and his jaw falls slack as his eyes open to you, unrecognizable of the man who taught you since early fall.

"Did I say to stop touching that sweet little pussy?" You heat to his words, never heard them towards you, or at all for that matter.

"Keep. Fucking. Rubbing." He issues his order, falling victim to the novice touch sending him into orbit. Such a soft hand on his hard velvet and you feel high knowing you're causing this to him.

"Wh-what else can I do for a man?" He has you standing in a second.

"Your mouth." He pushes you onto your knees, his thick cock dripping and glistening for you.

"And not just a man. Me. Only me. Now open that pretty little throat." He is gentle with your hair in a pet before sliding over your tongue.

"Fuck! How do you know to do that with your tongue?" His eyes turn into slits as he has you against his desk, a cautious hand around your throat.

"Fuck, yes, baby." He manages, the grip worsening but for guidance.

"Just breathe through your nose." The feel of him is madness. You should feel degraded and dirty but you feel empowered and confident, enough to test him. You wrap your tongue around him, using it to taste the veins struggling in pulse against your devoted muscle. You claw at his thighs as he struggles to keep his moans silent and yet neither of you bother to care.

"You lying to me? You let someone between those perfect little thighs? Hmm?"

"N-no!"

He scoffs.

"I bet not even your little fingers know how tight you are. But you're gonna let me know, aren't you?" You nod, hesitation lasting only the duration of doubt silenced by his fingers pushing aside your panties and sheathing inside.

"Oh fuck's sake." He sighs.

"Is it...okay?"

"Okay?! You're so fucking tight I need to get you close or I'm not bust the second I get inside."

"You're gonna..."

"Say it."

"You're gonna fuck me?"

"Just like I've imagined since you first walked into my class. But first. I'm getting you ready because I don't wanna hurt you. At least not yet..." He lowers himself and uses two fingers to beckon you to the edge of the desk. Sitting in his chair as it screams beneath him, he pulls you dependent on his arms as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Another way to stimulate a woman..." He uses the tip of his tongue as his finger holds the panties aside. It's explorative at first until purpose comes when he meets your clit.

"Do not fight it. I need it." He pulls you against his face. "I fucking need it." He proves it in the starvation of his taste. He savors and attacks in equal measure, his mouth never leaving as his hot breath only amplifies the sensation.

"Ohhh yeah baby...ride my fucking tongue." Your body obeys that which you struggle to rein in. He forces your hips when you still, until your body buckles.

"Come! Now!" He growls, vibrations from his order pull you to the edge as his two fingers inside stroke a patch of nerves send you over.

"Oh!" You cry out, his name burning in your throat. "Sir" feels too distant for the way you feel so vulnerable to him.

"I need to be inside you right fucking now." You nod viciously as he stands, not caring to wipe his mouth, as you see yourself having wet him. Curious and looking for an excuse, you pull him to you and kiss him.

"A way to please a girl...kiss." You manage as he growls.

"Fuck!" He takes you against his mouth, pushing himself inside you at the same time to cause a distraction. Immediate pressure stills you as pain lingers in the horizon.

"Fucking is meant to be for procreation but we have fun trying." He scoffs. "You. Nobody else fucking gets to try with you. Got it? You need it, you come to me! Shit!" He recants, pulling out enough to see you coat his cock. "Say it."

"You."

"Good girl." He thrusts, your breath taken as a stinging pain surprises you from the pleasure he brought you.

"That was your hymen. You're gonna be sore and you're still gonna fucking take it." You grip onto his shoulders and feel him take you as he pleases. Your body is wound tight until he kisses your neck, your collarbone, and up around to your ear. You can't adjust to anything as he leads a hand to your throat and guides you backwards until you meet the desk. Papers shove beneath you as he moves with fluid abandon.

Like waves to a shore, if the waves were turbulent from a storm that was Rafe Cameron.

His weight pins you flat in the thrashing you wish to make freely, your thighs shake, and he continues. You try to speak but feel compressed in the need to hear his grunts, so eager and delicious. You wish to taste them but in the try see him reach over you and to the rim of the desk, gripping it tightly.

"Mine. Fucking mine. Pussy-ass, lips, say it. Say you won't leave." There's something sad behind his eyes, former neglect bleeding from his desperations that still come out more as orders.

"I ..I won't."

"Good-ah girl." He hoists your leg over his hip and dives into you.

"That pressure building is an orgasm. Since you already got one...you're gonna wait until I come before you get your next one." He stands between your legs, the sight of him inside you making you gape. His grin should be illegal as he licks his lips and drags his thumb along the swollen bottom half.

He takes your ankles and leads them beside his ears as he uses his forearm to pin your calves to his chest.

"Deeper is always better. You can change angles."

"How many?"

"Don't worry, baby, you're gonna know them all." He leans forward, constricting your breath as he pounds.

"Oh fuck yes..." He seethes behind clenched teeth, such passion masked in vulgarities.

"You feel me? My cum wants to fill you up until it drops down your thighs. Gonna take it? You can also let me...ahh shit ...you can let me fill your mouth or just cover you ..."

"Wherever you want, Sir."

"Ugh fuck-you need to tell me. I need to hear you say it." He grips your neck again, slowly teasing you with slow depth and shallow speed. "I need to see your innocent little lips dirty for me."

"Come inside me!"

"Yeah? You want it inside?"

"Please!"

"Ohhh you're gonna fucking get it...so...fucking...deep." He becomes unhinged, his muscles tightening as he pounds you into the desk. Reports and essays crinkle in ruin beneath you as he burrows into your neck, kissing only to bruise your skin.

"Say it again."

"C-come inside me, sir. Please."

"Take it." He growls. "You're gonna feel it and you're gonna come because I fucking said so. So...come!" He growls, a pressure building from your toes now surges through you completely. The tight coil in your stomach unwinds between your legs and you coat him as he spills inside you.

"Fuck!" He erupts, the tremors of release coursing through you both.

"And now... you have me inside you. And since I didn't use a condom..." Your eyes widen.

"Sir..."

"Naive little Y/N, you're mine now.."

You struggle to rise, half in astonishment and half in fear. Your body aches in the pull he made to your virtue, in smithereens at his hands and beneath his devilish grin.

"You will come back on Tuesday..." You remember him telling the class his office was closed that day.

"But you said..."

"Tuesdays are for us." He kisses your lips, leaving behind a softness unexpected and almost forbidden. He doesn't even bother to look over your shoulder as he leaves but you long to follow him. If not for his words you may have assumed this was a one-time thing. Thankfully in the promise of a few days, you won't have to wait long.

But you know it will slowly chip away at you.

Consume you.

And you look forward to Tuesday above all else just to be touched by Mister Cameron.

MASTERLIST

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 12: mirror play | Regulus Black

smut

TW

Regulus was sitting patiently on your bed, looking delicious in his black tuxedo. Unfortunately, you couldn’t enjoy the view fully, too preoccupied on finding the perfect outfit. A pile of clothes was sitting next to your feet, and you were struggling with the zip of a long red dress.

“I hate it, I fucking hate how my body looks” You murmured under your breath, but Regulus heard it. Now he was standing up, positioning himself behind you, one of his hand on your neck.

“Care to repeat what you just said?” You stomped a foot down, huffing. When you started your recovering journey a few years ago, you knew your body would have changed. Now, fully healed and healthy, you had accepted it, still there were some days in which you just hated your belly, your thighs, everything and anything.

“I hate it, Reggie. Look at that, none of these dresses look good on me. I’ll be looking like an ugly troll, everyone will wonder how in the hell did I manage to pull you, and” Regulus had begun to press on the sides of your neck, silencing you.

“I won’t tolerate any negative talk, doll, you know better than that. Now, strip” You inhaled sharply; knowing it wasn’t the time to behave like a brat, you let the dress fall to your feet. “Perfect” He murmured, looking at you through the mirror, his hands toying with the red lace of your panties. You scoffed, your cheeks turning pink, he raised a brow. “What, you are perfect, love. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, these tits?” He cupped them gently over your bralette, his fingers grazing lightly over your nipples. “Perfect. This ass?” He squeezed it, making you whimper. “Amazing, baby, the best pillow I’ve ever used. This tummy?” He tickled your belly, making you giggle. “So beautiful. Your face?” He caressed your cheeks. “Gorgeous. I love you so much, baby, and I will teach you how to love yourself, too”

He nudged your ankle, making you spread your legs lightly. One of his arms circled your waist for support, making you lean against his firm chest. His other hand played with your clit over your panties, making you squirm. “Reggie” He smirked, kissing the column of your throat, his touch remaining light as a feather. Somehow, you already felt all worked up. “Reggie, please, I need more” You panted.

“I won’t do anything until I hear you say you love yourself” You sighed, the words failing to come out of your mouth, his touch remaining featherlight.

“Regulus, please” He ignored you, keeping his rhythm the same.  You sighed. “I… I love myself”

“You don’t sound so convinced, honey, maybe I should stop-“

“I love myself, I said it. Please”

He chuckled, tearing apart your panties with one swift motion, making you gasp. Suddenly, his long fingers were pumping in and out of you, the vision so erotic you tried to look away from it, ashamed, only for Regulus to redirect your gaze towards it. “Look at you, you’re so hot, baby. So lucky to have you” He placed a gentle kiss on your temple. “I love you”

He increased the rhythm, making you gasp, your hips chasing his skillful fingers. “Say you love how you look or I won’t let you come”

“I love how” You inhaled a sharp breath, his finger grazing a particularly sensitive part. “I love how I look, I look beautiful”

He smirked, pleased with how well you were listening to him. “Yes, you do look gorgeous, honey. Will you come on my fingers like a good girl?” You nodded vigorously, your head spinning with all the pleasure he was giving to you, your knees trembling.

When he started to play with your clit, you orgasmed all over his fingers, all the while he was looking at you through the mirror, a proud smile on his lips. “So good for me darling” You trembled, almost falling if it wasn’t for his hands on your waist. “Hush, baby, stop shaking, I’m here” He cooed. You stayed like that for a while, afterwards he was picking up the dress, securing the zip on your back, ‘forgetting’ your panties.

He kissed your lips softly. “Reggie, the panties-“ He chuckled. “That’s your punishment for talking so bad about yourself. Going to keep those shreds in my pocket.” He patted your butt, and the only thing you could do was obey.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[lovingchrissposts]

mama

Warnings: slight swearing, angst? Use of y/n, crying, babies. (Warning to me.) stress, anxiety

Requested: yes but lost the ss

Summary: y/n had a bad day and her kid Destiny isn’t listening so she gets upset and starts to cry in her husbands arm and then her baby starts crying for her, proving her bad feelings wrong.

Dad chris x fem reader

I was sitting on the cold marble tile floor of the bathroom next to our toddler Destiny. She had tan skin, caramel brown curly hair that bounced right above her shoulders with golden brown eyes beaming up at me.

“Baby please just let me put you in the bath? You can play with ducky.” I beg grabbing her rubber duck from the Luke warm bath water and squeezing it making a squeak noise.

“I no no wanna mama.” Destiny yells and sits on the floor starting to have a tantrum. “Destiny, please sweetie. Mommy’s had a long day.” I sigh running my hands through my brown hair down my shoulders.

Destiny looks at me with a sad expression and i take a deep breath trying not to snap at her. “Honey.” I say putting my hands under her arms and lifting her up but she just kicks her arms and legs at me making me set her back down.

She starts to scream and cry before I hear the front door open and it’s my husband Chris coming home from work. “Okay, okay, shhh..” I whisper starting to feel tears prick at my eyes.

She’s never been like this.

I hear the door open and I look up to see my husband standing in the door frame, still in his work suit his hair a little messy. “Hey mama, hey destiny how’s my baby?” Chris whispers bending down and kisses my cheek.

I look up at him and he sees the tears in my eyes knowing I’m exhausted and need a break.

Chris swooped up destiny into his arms flying her around. “Is this my favorite little girl?” Chris asks smiling at destiny and looks at me and moves his head to the side motioning for me thst it’s okay for me to go.

“Dada!” Destiny yells giggling and holding onto Chris.

Her giggles echo through my head as I walk into me and Chris’s bed room and into our master bathroom. I walk up to the mirror and reach for my cotton pads and micellar water to remove my makeup.

I finish taking off my makeup and get a quick shower. I couldnt stop over thinking and stressing over everything that was going on. I just feel like I wasn’t fit for taking care of a fucking child.

I get out of the shower and put on a satin spaghetti sleeve night gown before leaving the bathroom and getting in on the right side of me and Chris’s shared bed.

I pull the covers up to the dip in mh waist and laying on my side. A few minutes go by and the door quietly opens and Chris walks in straight to the closet to change.

He walks out s few minutes later in just a pair of boxers and no shirt. Without either of us saying a word he gets in bed behind me and spoons me from behind.

“Im right here. It’s okay,” he whispers into my ear resting his head on my shoulder with his lips right next to my cheek.

I feel my emotions start to get the best of my and my throat tightens as my warm tears spill out of my eyes making me sniffle gently and grab Chris’s hand.

“Oh y/n.” Chris gently whispers and rolls me over so I’m facing him. He takes my face in his hands.

“I-I don’t-“ I start to stay but he shushes me and presses his finger to my lips. “Shhh.. ma, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

I nod and sniffle shutting my eyes. “Look at me y/n” Chris states in a gentle tone so i look up at him. “You’re okay, just relax. I’m right here.” He whispers kissing my forehead and i sniffle dipping my head into his chest and closing my eyes.

I feel his fingers rub my waist and the small of my back through my loose night gown.

After a few minutes I’m calmed down and Chris pulls back to look at me. “Alright, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong baby.” He says reaching onto my bed side table to grab a hair tie because I always get hot after crying.

“Thanks,” I whisper and tie my hair back looking up at him. He just smiles down at me and rubs my waist waiting for me to talk.

“I just feel like Destiny prefers you over me all the time. I wouldn’t care but it’s getting to the point she won’t listen to me, let me hold her, or anything. She just starts to cry..” I admit looking up at him and he nods his head and wipes the loose tears on my face.

“I understand baby, but she’s 2 and they always go through a phase like this. She still loves you and I do too okay? Don’t forget that.” Chris whispers and kisses my forehead making me smile.

“But what else is wrong, it seems like more than just that.” He says trying to get me to open up. I sigh and look down.

“Im just really stressed.. and I haven’t felt good all day and I’m tired and destiny not listening isn’t helping my case at all.” I admit and sniffle again.

“Y/n,” Chris starts to whisper pulling me on top of him to rest on his chest stroking my back and the ends of my hair.

The water works start again as Destiny starts to cry and I look over at the baby monitor and she’s crying ‘mama..’

Chris sits up with me still laying against him and he looks at the monitor and then smiles back at me.

“Looks like she needs you mama.” Chris whispers into my ear making me sniff away my tears and get off his lap to check on Destiny.

“I’ll be right back” I say with confidence walking out the door as chris chuckles.

I open the door slightly seeing Destiny cuddled up in the corner of her crib wailing and screaming ‘mama’

“Baby, baby im right here.” I whisper walking over and picking her up out of her crib, bouncing her in my arms.

“mama.” Destiny says through tears into my shoulder wrapping her arms around my neck. I take a seat in the chair in her room and look at her

“What’s wrong baby?” I whisper stroking her cheeks to remove the tears off her small pink cheeks.

“why mama crying in bath..?” Destiny asks me with her small baby voice and I laugh softly kissing her cheek.

“Oh don’t worry about mama, i was really tired.” I say exaggerating not wanting her to worry.

“Oh otay.” she whispers back to me and pointing back to her crib.

I smile softly and lay her down. “Get some good sleep for mama okag baby? Me and daddy are right down the hall.” I say making her feel comforted.

“Otay.” She whispers and cuddles her stuffed animal that’s a monkey Chris gave her from when he was a kid.

“Love you, little monkey. Get some good rest. Holler if you need me.” I whisper closing her door as I walk out gently.

I make my way back to me and Chris’s room seeing Chris fully awake on the bed on his side. I crawl back into bed next to him and he puts his arm on my waist and looks down at me with his signature smirk.

“You look pretty tonight.” He whispers to me making me get butterflies

“Christoper. Not tonight I’m too tired I’m sorry.” I say turning him down softly and he sighs. “Fine, shoulda saw that coming.” He says chuckling, leaning down to kiss me and I gently kiss his lips before cuddling into his arms falling asleep.

I love my family.

Taglist (request to be on!!): @b2cute @luverboychris @st7rnioioss @i-tothe-d-tothe-k

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 16: Mirror Sex

Easy to Love

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, SMUT, body image issues

Word Count: ~1.6k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Honey, I've told you and told you. Yes, I still think you're sexy.” Elvis follows you around the house as you tidy and move things and generally just try to keep from letting him win. 

“I know you say you do, but I'm not sure when the last time you really looked at me was.”

“I look at you every day.” You huff and roll your eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Well, I would look at you naked every day if you'd let me!” He catches a baby toy that you throw in his direction and tosses it into the pile in the corner. Why you insist on tidying things up never ceases to amaze him. You have a maid to do that, but you weren't raised with that kind of luxury, so it's in your blood to clean things in your own house. 

“Honey, please. The baby is with your mom. It's just you and me here tonight. I would like to make love to my wife without the lights turned off and you fully dressed.” 

“Maybe you should've married someone else, then.”

“Oh stop it. I married you because I love you. And I'm gettin’ real tired of your whole song and dance about how I wouldn't want you if I saw you.” You look over at Elvis and he stands there with his hands on his hips. He looks better than he ever has in his life, having just started playing shows in Vegas again after all those years doing movies. And you'd be happy to make love to him, but you had a baby less than a year ago and it's proving more difficult than you expected to shed the baby weight and get back to who you were before. You were a tiny little thing, so small he could almost wrap his hands completely around your waist. And now you're not exactly big, but there's definitely extra soft parts where there weren't before. You turn and face him, as defiant as he is. 

“I just don't look the same and I don't think you'll like it. Just give me time to lose this weight and we can go back to how things were before.”

“Baby it's been almost a year. Almost a year of making love in the dark or under the covers. I want to fuck you like I used to.”

“Have ya seen you? You look great. Maybe you should just… find a fan…” He walks over to you and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Don't you dare suggest something like that. I'm tired of this, Satnin.” He bends over and picks you up over his shoulder. You protest, trying to get him to put you down, but he refuses. He carries you to your bedroom and flops you on the giant bed. 

“I'm just sayin'. I'm never gonna be what you want. And you have women everywhere. Just pick one of them and do whatever it is you're needing.”

“I need you! God you're a pain in the ass.” He rolls the heavy, full length mirror up beside the bed. 

“What's that for?”

“You'll see. Take your clothes off.”

“Elvis I-”

“Damnit for once in your life don't argue! Just do what you're told.” You pout and then start to pull your clothes off. If he won't believe you then you'll just have to show him. “Come here.” 

He takes his own clothes off, seating you in between his legs with your back against his front facing the mirror. 

“El, what are we-”

“Shhh. Look at yourself.” You turn your head to look away and he grabs your chin and forces you to peer into the glass. “Look at that sexy woman.”

“All I see are rolls and squishy parts.” You see him purse his lips over your shoulder. 

“Damn it, honey just stop!” He starts to run his hands over you and you wince in discomfort when he gets to the parts that you don't like. 

“Please stop touching my belly.” You whisper pleadingly. 

“What? This belly?” He puts his hands on your stomach. “The one that carried my baby so well? I'm supposed to not love this part of you?” 

You meet his eyes in the mirror and he's dead serious. Part of you thought he might be making fun of you, but he's obviously not. He sets his chin on your shoulder and runs his hands up to your breasts, squeezing gently. 

“And you can't tell me this part didn't improve.” He's not wrong. Your breasts did kind of come out of nowhere when you were pregnant. Still, they're not as perky as they used to be and you open your mouth to say something but he stops you. “No. You don't get to argue with me.” 

He slides his hands down your sides to your hips and grazes his fingertips over your stretch marks. You'd been so tiny that your hips widening to make room for the baby had caused your skin to split into these scars that you hate. You groan when he touches them and lean your head back to look at the ceiling. 

“Look in the mirror.” His tone is firm, and he's obviously tired of fighting you, but you're too ashamed. You shake your head and keep your eyes up as they fill with tears. “Damn it, y/n, I said look in the fuckin’ mirror!” 

When you look back down at his reflection, a fat teardrop rolls down your cheek. He softens immediately and wraps his arms around you affectionately pressing his cheek to yours. 

“Honey, please don't cry. I know it's hard for you to believe me, but I'm not just sayin’ this. You are beautiful. You see all the ways your body has changed as bad things, but I see them as evidence of my wife’s strength. You made a miracle for me, honey. I wanna worship you for it. Please let me.” 

His eyes are so sincere that it's impossible not to believe him. You turn your head and meet his lips with yours. After a short time you pull back and he just looks into your face for a while. Your heart is pounding as the tension builds between you. Finally, he can't stand it anymore and he dives in fully, his tongue slipping into your mouth to dance against yours. His hands run all over your body, touching and squeezing any part of you that pleases him and you don't protest. The heat in his kiss is too much to interrupt. Eventually, he spreads your thighs and his fingers make their way to your center. The tip of his middle finger gathers some of your arousal and finds your clit, slipping over and around it easily. You moan softly into his mouth and he smiles. 

“You wanna see how sexy you are? Look.” He nods towards the mirror and you turn and watch as he slides his finger up inside you, his thumb playing with your clit now. He adds a second finger and pumps them in and out for you to see. Your eyes are glued to his hand in the mirror as he works your pussy. “I want you to watch yourself cum. See what I see.” 

You nod and whimper as your orgasm begins to build in your hips. He pulls his fingers out and rubs them over your clit harder and faster. 

“Come on, baby. Cum for daddy.” He whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. 

“Mmm, fuck, Elvis…” You moan loudly, balancing right on the edge of your release. He pumps his fingers inside you again and then goes back to your clit. 

“You're so sexy, mama. Cum for me.” That's all it takes for you to fall headfirst into oblivion. You moan loudly and watch in the mirror as the waves of pleasure crash into you and you shudder and pulse. “You see now, how sexy you-”

But you interrupt him by pushing him down on the bed and climbing on top to straddle his hips facing the mirror. You watch with your eyes wide as you sink onto his cock. He laughs loudly and grabs your ass. 

“Yes, baby. There's my sexy girl.” You're entranced by watching yourself in the mirror as you fuck him, bouncing and rolling on his dick, moaning as you see him slide inside you over and over again. He holds your hips and whimpers. You haven't fucked him like this in a very long time. “I'm gonna cum fast, honey. Slow down.”

“No.”

“No?” He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he tries to hold on. 

“I like the way my tits bounce when I move this fast.” 

“Yeah me too. Damn, I've created a monster.” He whimpers and grasps at the sheets. “Honey, I have ta- OH GOD!” 

He holds your hips tightly as his cock throbs inside you and shoots you full of his release. Somehow, the mirror is angled just right for you to be able to see his face as he cums and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You forgot how powerful it makes you feel to bring him to the place that only you can. When his body relaxes, you climb off and turn around, crawling into his arms. He kisses your forehead. 

“Sorry I didn't last longer-”

“Not a problem. We'll do it again later.” He looks at you in his arms. 

“We will?”

“Mhmm. With the lights on and everything.” You kiss his lips softly. “Thank you for loving me so well.”

“You’re easy to love, honey.”

“Can we have the mirror again?” He laughs and nods his head. 

“You're a pain in the ass. But you're easy to love.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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