#yep he's still here too lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojipie · 1 year ago

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welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago.

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk.

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder.

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his.

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper.

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face.

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt.

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear.

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really.

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view.

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes.

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity.

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change.

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look.

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside.

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight.

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later.

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away.

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade.

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car.

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles.

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years.

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care.

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?”

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base.

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him.

˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather.

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were.

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it.

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure.

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?”

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there.

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

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restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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reignpage · 8 days ago

Note

Hi!! If you have the time- how would the jjk guys react to the reader giving them the silent treatment?

I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Gojo:

Would try to make you laugh at first When that doesn't work and he notices you're just getting more irritated, he'd start bribing you Buys you flowers, handbags, dresses, jewellery you name it If you're still silent, then he'll go deadly serious Would confront you in the dark, sitting on the sofa like he's been waiting for hours 'Is there nothing I can do? Are we done for good? Are you leaving me too?'

Geto:

Gets snarky Two can play that game He's not the calm and patient guy everyone thinks he is He just reacts in subtle ways Makes passive-aggressive comments But eventually will get tired, sighs and just asks you straight up what he did wrong 'Alright, what happened? Let me inside that head of yours.'

Choso:

Keeps asking you what's wrong Gets really sad and depressed Very much kicked puppy vibes Just follows you around everywhere Until you crack 'I didn't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please talk to me? I'm scared'

Toji:

LOL LMFAO ROFL This man would be soooo annoying He'd be smug as hell at first Says shit like 'It's nice to have peace and quiet here' 'You should get mad at me more often ma' BUT eventually realising you're not gonna crack He'll start to get nervous Starts cleaning up after himself Double checks to make sure the trash is out, he hasn't left any dishes in the sink, didn't miss any appointments or anniversaries etc etc Would send Megumi in to get a feel for your mood 'make yourself extra cute kid' 'ask her why she isn't speaking to me. no don't tell her I told you to. whose side are you on?'

Nanami:

Would ask you immediately if there's something wrong Is so mature and healthy it's irritating 'please communicate with me, darling. I can't apologise and fix whatever I ruined if you don't talk to me.' Eventually, he'll give you space But then you'll start feeling really bad because he'll assume that you hate him or something Like, he'll start buying sandwiches to take to work cause he thinks you won't make lunch for him like normal or sleeps on the couch eats dinner and watches shows by himself so you cave first and the smile he gives you is so worth it

Sukuna:

Doesn't notice a thing at first He isn't the type to be clingy, he's not the affectionate one, he mostly returns it So there'll just be a period of silence Until he begins to feel your absence in which case he'll seek you out and then becomes the clingy one 'it is a pleasant day out, would you care to join me for a stroll? gets sooo offended if you don't say anything 'no? would you prefer to stroll with someone else? tell me who and they will be killed. in fact, continue to remain in silence and everyone will be killed.'

Yuji:

Confused :0 asks Nobara for advice 'you're a girl, she's a girl. so tell me what's going on' 'is it the time of the month?' uses loads of different tricks to make you break performs dances and skits gets Gojo involved tries to get Megumi involved (no chance) he's so stupid you just have to cave and explain he's an idiot and he'll nod happily

Megumi:

yeahhhhhh you'll be having a silent off for days and weeks you'll both continue to co-exist in silence it's just not smart

Inumaki:

annoying as hell texts you shit like: 'when she copies you' 'ho is u good?' 'can you be original at least?' when that doesn't work he'll break into your social media or gaming accounts right in front of you and threatens to release a post pretending to be you like 'you know, hitler wasn't that bad' or an ugly picture of you then you'll have to cave and he gets so caught up in the victory, he'll accidentally post it yep, he's a dead man walking

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juniperdugong · 4 months ago

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Photobooth - Wonwoo

WC: 2.8k || Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) || Ooo they crushing on each other

A/N: We'll call this a late bday present for him lol lotsa fluff, is this also angst? Idk. This is the song I had on repeat writing this, Imagine it during the climax

You and Wonwoo had hung around the same people for a while, your friend groups slowly merging before you could comprehend it. So it wasn't exactly a surprise that you'd see him here tonight but you're trying your best not to look in his direction all the same.

You guys haven't talked much... or really at all without someone else in the group being there. It's a given seeing as you're both on the introverted side anyway.

Over time you've grown to welcome seeing his face at a party or in a crowd and you've developed a little bit of a crush, one that you definitely did not mean to create. But really who could blame you?

It was Wonwoo. And the way his messy hair hung so perfectly over his face. How his glasses would fog up on occasion. And god... the way he'd lift his shirt up just a tad to wipe them. You might be insane for the thought but there's no way someone that attractive isn't getting gawked at 24/7, like clockwork.

And that's exactly what you're trying to hide as he sits across the table from you. You're drinking more than you had before he got here and you can feel the heat in your face as the buzz sets in. You've been avoiding his eyes as best you can, but you can't help noticing that he's been looking at you very intently since he sat down.

Wonwoo's been nursing a beer for the past 30 minutes, his face still slightly red from the pregame he and the boys did at the previous bar. Now he's sat in front of you. Purposefully he had pushed Dokeyom out of the way to get this seat but now that he was here he had zero idea of how to approach you. He's been trying to catch your eye the entire time but you haven't looked his way once. He goes to speak but is interrupted.

"Guys! I have a great idea!" Your friend stands up to address the table, the fact that most of you are completely out of it only makes it so that several people are cheering her on the moment she rises. "Let's go to a photo booth shop!"

In minutes someone's already handled the bill; No one cares to ask questions this far into the night. And your posse is perusing the streets looking like a bunch of fucked up college students; Not exactly wrong but not right either.

You're hanging back in the pack like you usually do. The cold air hitting your warm face feels so good that you have to close your eyes to take in the feeling. "Hey." You're startled from your daze as you see Wonwoo pull back and wait for you to catch up to him, "The night air?"

"Yeah, feels nice." The silence grows between you two as you continue walking side by side. Neither of you can tell if the heat you're feeling is from the drinks or from the intense blush you feel coming on but both of you are glad that tonight is breezy, the air serving to calm down some nerves. The last time you were alone was that night.

Not too dissimilar from tonight actually. A bunch of your friends were hanging out at a camping-themed cafe where you could sit around a fireplace. Due to how many of you there were several campfires were taken up.

You and Wonwoo sat a few chairs away from each other, by coincidence you had ended up in this smaller group as a close friend also sat here. It didn't take long for either of you to notice the other. Small glances back and forth and flickering smiles when you caught each other's eye.

Somewhere along the way, almost everyone got up to go and order more food, and as people trickled over to the counter you and Wonwoo were eventually left alone.

The tension was thick with unspoken attraction and you were both waiting for the other to make any moves. Finally, with a lump caught in his throat, Wonwoo got up and sat in the chair next to you. "Y/n, right?" You gave a little nod and chuckled, "Yeah and you're Wonwoo?". "Yep, exactly right."

You guys kept talking and talking the entire night, the conversation never dipping into silence or awkwardness, it felt like you could be here forever and never get bored. It all seemed to come naturally with Wonwoo.

Even once your friends came back the chatting didn't stop. Some of them eye the way you guys had gotten close within a matter of minutes, smirks as they could see the connection forming before their eyes. The way that with each new topic, you guys somehow managed to get physically closer. Scooting your chair to hear him better. Wonwoo leaning in subconsciously as you ramble. Both of you are practically knee to knee by the end of it.

More and more of your group dispersed as it got later in the night but you both were too enthralled in conversation to notice anyone had left until it had gotten dark.

"It was nice talking, y/n." The way the moonlight and campfire gleaned on him made your heart race.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun Wonwoo." His cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his chest burned whenever anything so much as a smirk was on your lips.

"I'll see you around?" You hoped he was talking sooner rather than later.

"Of course!" He held onto those words like a promise.

It wasn't until you both had gotten into your cars that you realized that you didn't get each other's numbers. Shit!

It's been months since then. You've seen each other at other hangouts but neither of you had the guts to talk to the other again. Something ate at the confidence you had that night and you haven't been able to look him in the eye since. You'd never thought that you'd have a crush this intense at your age but something about Wonwoo made you feel like a highschooler again.

And he's been the same way, although a bit more direct than you. Every time he's seen you since then he'd try to get closer to you, at least be near you to quench his thirsty lovesick heart with your voice... Even if it's not directed towards him. Just staring at you made him flutter, honestly. He's been festering on these feelings for a while, even since before that night if he was being honest, but every time after that his tongue hasn't been able to form coherent sentences around you. It's like a curse.

A curse that it seems some alcohol can quell, at least for a little bit.

"We haven't talked much, have we?" He starts, the shop is just around the corner yet right now he prayed that it was miles away so he could take his time.

"Nah, we haven't. Not since..."

"Not since the campfire?"

"Yeah."

"Hey! You two! Get inside!" A quaint smile forms on your lips as someone yells for you to hurry up. Wonwoo gives a small chuckle but bites his lip to suppress the touch of anger rising now that your conversation has been cut short.

As you get in you can already see that everyone takes charge in claiming different accessories and filing into photo booths in small groups. You didn't really feel up to taking photos, far too heated from Wonwoo's company from before. Looking around, you spot some fun sunglasses shaped like daisies. They were good enough for photos and who knows? Maybe sober you will like the outcome.

After grabbing the sunglasses you dip into an empty booth and begin going through all the different styles. You're slightly hiccuping and now you can definitely feel the alcohol kicking in.

"You mind?" You'd just settled on the only appealing style out of your choices, one obviously meant for couples, one surrounded by red and pink hearts. Of course, Wonwoo had to interrupt. You have half the mind to tell him you do mind jokingly but you're too swayed by him to joke right now, "Not at all."

Now you're sat squished up in the booth with him. The flush on your face could be explained by the drinks but it's more than likely getting redder due to Wonwoo's presence.

"Sorry, all the others were taken and I didn't want to be left out." An excuse, he'd seen you come in here and he was eager to talk to you again. Alcohol really did wonders for confidence.

"It's fine, really." You smiled a bit in his direction and suddenly his heart is thumping like a rabbit's foot. "I don't even like taking photos..."

"Why not?"

"I never like how they come out."

Impossible, you're like the most beautiful person in the world, y/n. He can't even begin to comprehend your way of thinking. You were the most stunning thing in his field of view whenever you were around, how could pictures with you in them ever turn out bad?

"What?" Fuck Did he say that out loud?

"What?"

"Did you just *hiccup* call me beautiful? Wonwoo."

"I don't know." His eyes are wide and suddenly he feels as sober as a dog. He feigns innocence with a confused stare in your direction and thankfully your drunkenness takes him for his word.

"Wonwoo..." A numbness came over you that allowed for words to spill.

"Yeah, y/n?"

"I think I really like you." Great. Now he's sure he's completely sober. He turns to you, the sunglasses hiding your drowsy eyes as you lean against the side of the booth. And he's not even sure if you'll remember saying this. Great!

"You mean that?" Please say yes.

"Mean what?" You're completely out of it and he can see it, as quickly as he resigns to you forgetting what you said you speak again, "That I like you? I do mean that."

His jaw drops and he isn't sure what to do. Does he run away and grab one of the accessories that will cover the intense heat on his face? No, he doesn't want to leave you. Does he tell you he likes you back? No, that's in vain you're already not all here. Well, you are in a photo booth... He presses the START button.

"Will you be mad if I kiss you right now, y/n?"

You look at him with glazed-over doe eyes, letting the sunglasses slip off your face and fall to the floor. You didn't know if this was some sort of sick joke, a hallucination fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or worse a drunken mistake on his part. But it was too sudden a question for you to process the options in this state.

3...2...1...Say Cheese!

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He opens the curtain to the photo booth and is ready to get up. This was a bad idea. Nothing you said should mean anything to him but it doesn't keep from the pang of disappointment he feels. Suddenly your hand is gripping his wrist telling him to stay seated, and he does.

3...2...1...Give the Camera a wink!

Both of your hearts are racing. The tension of the moment suffocates you guys but you're too caught up to notice the heaving of your breaths. You grab his face with both your hands, trying your hardest to focus on just him. Your stupor makes it extremely hard but you persist with the small amount of soberness in your body.

It takes far too long for either of you to realize as your lips press together. The shock of plush lips lights you ablaze, it's as if someone held a flame to all the booze coursing through you. You're too far gone to know that you're the one that had leaned into him and not the other way around.

3...2...1...Blast off!

If Wonwoo's eyes could pop out of his skull they would. He's nearly out of the frame of the camera as you push up against him. Your brows furrow as you close your eyes getting more into the kiss and now he's feeling awkward with his eyes wide open. He thinks your focus might just be the cutest thing he's ever seen. God, you are all he wanted, huh? A smile creeps up on his lips before he lifts his glasses and deepens the kiss, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the other to gently wrap around the back of your neck.

3...2...1...Silly Faces!

Maybe it's all the drinks but both of you swear that the other's taste is addictive. Your hands travel from his face and down his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. You're both hungry for each other, if any of the others saw it'd probably look like borderline cannabilism with how animalistic you were going at it. Mouths trying to trace the memory of each other onto the walls of your cheeks.

It was sensual yet innocent, any trace of lust replaced with an intense passion and love. You can vividly imagine the many kisses that you could share with Wonwoo in your lifetime. Pecks on the cheek, goodbye kisses as you leave the house, intense makeout sessions, all of it. All the little quiet moments of intimacy to the burning giant gestures of love, everything with Wonwoo. It's the only sober thought you think you've had all night.

3...2...1...Big Smile!

You release him from your grip, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. Wonwoo's arms hold you in place but loosen ever so slightly. Foreheads resting on each other you just take a minute to take it in. You let your eyes open and meet his, you feel his glasses fall on between you two.

"Sorry." You say as you back away, allowing his glasses to drop back down fully.

The silence is deafening. Outside you can hear as the rest of the group giggles and chatters on, oblivious to what's just happened. You wipe your mouth as you feel a slickness on your lips, your combined spit coating you both.

You're a lot more aware now. The kiss sobering you enough to maybe be able to remember this in the morning but you weren't confident in that thought.

While you're getting that realization Wonwoo's taken the liberty of doing the finishing steps on the photos. Printing 2 copies for each of you and inserting his own email when it asks him if he wants a video of the photo-taking process. Thankfully you weren't looking when he did that, hopefully, he can show you the video at a better time and you can reminisce on your first kiss.

You startle him as you stand up. A solemn look on your face at the thought of all of this being gone by tomorrow. You really wish you didn't drink tonight. That Wonwoo hadn't sat in front of you. That he hadn't stared at you with those eyes, the ones that made you so nervous that you had to chug drink after drink to just get a modicum of confidence. You wish that what happened in the booth had happened not because you were drunk but because you were ready.

He sees the look and wants to say something... anything if it'll make you feel better. He knows all too well that that look meant that you were regretting things.

You reach out to him, cupping his face in one of your hands and swiping at his cheek with your thumb before he can say anything. Biting your lip you look at him, the feelings are all too overwhelming right now.

"Hey Wonwoo, if you remember this in the morning... remind me of it so we can do it when we're sober sometime, yeah?"

With a slight nod, he leaned into your hand and gave a lingering kiss to your palm before watching you open the curtain and walk away. His eyes stayed glued on you through the window of the shop until the moment your taxi came. A hollow feeling overcoming him as the drunkenness sets in again, although he couldn't quite decipher if this down came from the drinks or from the pure ecstasy you gave and so quickly took away, maybe both.

He walked out of the shop, a group of high-schoolers giggling in merriment as they picked out their accessories and got into their booths. The thought of wherever his friends were was purely background noise at this point.

Getting out and into the cold air he stood with his back against the glass, clutching the photo strips in one hand and his phone in the other, he set an alarm.

"Remind y/n".

A/N: I really really fucking like this one guys, smiling throughout the whole writing process. Also lovelies, for those of you reading Perfection pls know that the upcoming chapter has been delayed till next Saturday! Please reblog and comment your thoughts and as always my asks are open to any and all thoughts!

SVT Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

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locketsvault · 7 months ago

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「 CUDDLING WITH TOKYO GHOUL MEN 」

pairings: jūzō suzuya x reader ፥ ayato kirishima x reader ፥ renji yomo x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: angst in ayatos, mention of parents dying in ayatos, cursing in yomos

request: Heyy, can i please ask for cuddling headcannons with tokyo ghoul guys? (Juuzou, Ayato and Yomo) (request found here.)

a/n: I’m so happy to write for jūzō I love him sm. this request was very fun to do! I do warn later on, but I’m not too familiar with yomo though I did do my best! if you have any comments or ideas about cuddling these silly men, feel free to comment or send something through my inbox. I take anons too!

// jūzō suzuya⌇˚.༄

⮑ You’ve managed to get him to sit still long enough to cuddle? I’m impressed.

⮑ No really, he’s hard to cuddle because of how much energy he has, not to mention the fact he always wants to be out and about. Funnily enough, not to lean into the stereotype but I 100% see him being docile if you give him sweets and snacks lmao. As long as you feed him he will remain in your arms like a good boy.

⮑ That brings me to my next point actually, he’s mostly always a little spoon. On rare occasions he’ll be big spoon, but the problem is that he doesn’t… know how. He doesn’t know how to be big spoon, he doesn’t know how to be the one comforting physically. But he tries!!! And tbh he’s pretty good with it, even if he can be slightly awkward at first. He learns, especially if you willingly help him.

⮑ I think because of his personality and upbringing, most people assume he doesn’t understand affection. While I can agree, to a certain extent, he isn’t clueless, and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand all forms of affection. He does, and he learns well. Even if his ways of showing affection are not traditional lol.

⮑ He does not mind pda, he doesn’t get why people are uncomfortable. He loves you, and if he wants cuddles from you while working or going around the city, then he should get what he wants no? Plus, it’s not like he’s worried about his reputation.

⮑ A solid 8/10 in the cuddle department. if he sits still long enough and is willing, his cuddles are warmth. they’re home.

// ayato kirishima⌇˚.༄

⮑ He must really trust you if he’s cuddling with you willingly.

⮑ Hear me out okay. I know he’s not only the whole “bad boy” persona we all see. But it is a big part of him and how he thinks. Affection is weakness, and showing weakness is asking for death. Especially in the earlier days. The idea of being vulnerable even in the safety of his own home freaks him out.

⮑ I think for the longest time he wouldn’t entertain the idea. That is until he’s had a rough day, and suddenly he finds himself burying his face in your torso, holding you between his legs. You can’t move, you’re not allowed to. Not that you’d want to; because finally subjecting himself to affection has caused him to break down. Yep, your first time cuddling involves a very vulnerable and probably crying boy in your arms. He’s back to the age of his parents still being alive in that moment.

⮑ But! Once he’s finally given himself the taste of affection, especially from you, he can’t let it go. It’s still only in private though, he can’t bring himself to feel comfortable cuddling you in front of others. Honestly it’s probably not until after :re that he feels comfortable with pda.

⮑ His cuddles are rigid at first, he can’t get himself to relax. But over time he softens up. He loves cuddling you face to face, he loves admiring you. You may even find his eyes soft and adoring. His body runs extra hot so he’s perfect to sleep with in the winter. Oh, couch cuddles that consist of you being a personal weighted blanket are also always welcome.

⮑ I’ll give him a 6.5, he’s still figuring himself out but somehow his cuddles are still nice.

// renji yomo⌇˚.༄

⮑ Honestly he looks like someone who gives wonderful hugs.

⮑ Now you’ll have to forgive me, I don’t really know too much on yomo, though I did try to read up a little to refresh my mind.

⮑ If we’re talking about early days yomo, when he was a little shit (sorry yomo), I don’t really see him as a cuddly person. He’s too hot headed and violent, especially after losing his sister. But if we’re talking about Anteiku and beyond yomo, I could see him appreciating cuddles very much.

⮑ And I mean it too. I think physical affection is one of his main forms of affection right next to act of service. So he’s always down to cuddle you if you ask. You’ll usually have to initiate it though, unless you’re at home. He’ll open his arms for you and pull you close.

⮑ I can vividly picture this man allowing you to lay on his chest and probably fall asleep while reading a book peacefully. And he’s willing to stay that way for hours. It’s probably very soothing to him. Especially if the room is quiet and he can hear your heartbeat.

⮑ When it comes to pda, I don’t really think he’d do it. And if he did he never initiated it. he’s a man of few words, and is reserved. His actions can speak for himself yes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to. He doesn’t care if anyone comments on it though, and is probably both amused and annoyed at the gawking of someone curled into his side at the coffee shop lol.

⮑ 9/10 as well, as long as it isn’t early yomo, you’ve got yourself a wonderful protective cuddler.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

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shutupineedtothink · 1 month ago

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More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

#agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #deaths hand in mine #agatha harkness #lilia calderu

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months ago

Note

Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #ask iris!

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sweetloleepop · 3 months ago

Text

Synopsis: Today is your birthday. And although you have already planned to spend it just cuddling and watching movies with your boyfriend, everything changed after your friends decided to throw you this not-so-big party, which your boyfriend didn’t appreciate much.

Pairing/s: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader

Tags: smut, car seggs, swearing, slight degradation, spanking, unprotected smut

a/n: This is my first time writing for Bakugo and I did so as a gift for my lovely friend. I hope I didn’t change him much lol. Happiest birthday to youuu!!! @justpassingbybiatch

PS: All characters are of legal age in this fic

Wordcount: 1.8k

Everyone cheered as you blow the candle. They all greeted you a happy birthday and handed you their gifts. The event that your best friends, Izuku and Momo, arranged, made you feel very happy. But do you know what else it made you? Busy. From the moment that you and Katsuki have stepped a foot on this very place, he hasn’t been able to talk to you. Let alone get near you. There’s just so many people here; too many people for you to give him an ounce of your attention and its making Katsuki dissatisfied. He didn’t want to make a fuss about it though. After all, this is your day, it’s not about him, and he wants you to enjoy your day to the fullest. But still, he can’t shrug the feeling of dissatisfaction off of him.

Feeling a bit grumpy, Katsuki decided to sit on one of the many tables in the venue, alone. He stayed there for a while, watching you talk happily with your friends. ‘Tsk. That would’ve been me if they didn’t ruin our plans.’ He thought to himself.

Meanwhile, standing near the buffet, you idly listen to Izuku talk about new quirks that he found other heroes can do. He’s always been very excited about sharing new things that he discovers with you, and this conversation is no different. Don’t get me wrong, you love listening and conversing with your friends, but you haven’t seen Katsuki in a while and it’s making you worried.

After some time of subtly taking your eyes away from Izuku in an attempt to search for Katsuki, you finally saw him stood up from one of the tables. You watched as he made his way to the exit and left. ‘Oh no…’

You failed to notice that Izuku is still speaking right in front of you until he calls your name. “Are you okay?” Izuku asked as he looked back, trying to distinguish what you were looking at. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine, I just- would you excuse me for a minute?” You replied as you excused yourself and followed Katsuki to the exit.

It was chilly outside. The fact that you are wearing a sleeveless dress didn’t help. You hugged yourself while you walked through the parking lot. Katsuki is nowhere to be found. ‘Where is he?’

“Looking for me?” Upon hearing the voice, you turned your head so fast that you gave yourself a whiplash. “Ouch,” you uttered as you held your neck.

“God, will you be more careful?” Katsuki said as he made his way to you. He held your neck and looked at it with a very worried expression. “Still hurts?” He asked.

You looked at his face. ‘God, he’s so handsome.’

He called your name. “Stop staring at me and tell me, does it still hurt?”

“Uh… yeah. It still hurts, ‘Tsuki. I think only a kiss would help make the pain go away.” You cutely said to him while pouting.

He tsked at you and pecked your neck. “Fine now?”

“Yep, better.” You replied.

A strong gust of wind blew through the wide space of the parking lot, making you shiver. Katsuki didn’t fail to notice that and he immediately took off his suit and draped it on your shoulder. “It’s cold in here. You wanna go back inside?” You asked as you closed the suit around you. “Not really. But I do know a warm place.”

“Where?”

The backseat of his car sure is warm. Especially now that you’re sitting on Katsuki’s lap while he peppered your neck with kisses. His mouth was hot as he assaulted your neck with open-mouthed kisses.

You grabbed his hair and kissed his lips. Oh, his lips, soft as ever, yet very rough when he kisses you back. You felt Katsuki’s hand roam about your torso. He grabbed and squeezed your left breast while his other hand slowly opened the zipper of your dress.

After fully opening your zipper, Katsuki helped you take the garment off. He commanded you to lay down on the seat and you quickly obliged. You watched as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw them somewhere in the passenger seat.

Katsuki, then, kissed you again. More demanding this time. You felt as one of his hands unclasped your bra and roughly played with your breasts. Katsuki pinched one of your nipple, causing you to release a surprised gasp.

“You like that?” Katsuki asked, his voice raspy.

“Y-yes,”

Katsuki’s kisses went down to your neck, leaving bruises on their wake. His kisses, then, went down lower, to your chests. Katsuki won’t admit it but this, your chest is his most favorite part of you. He told you once that it was your heart but on his defense, your heart is inside your chest, and he loved them both.

He sucked on your chest like a starved child. His mouth was vigorous as it nipped, licked, and sucked on your them. Not that you’re complaining, you love what he’s doing. In fact, you enjoy it so much, your eyes are rolling and your hands are gripping his spiky strands of sandy blond hair.

As one of his hands are fondling your chest in tandem with his mouth, you felt the other one snake its way to your thighs. It was almost overwhelming, except you’re too greedy to care. His hand massaged your thighs, teasing its way to your clothed cunt.

You breathed heavily in anticipation to his touch. But every time his fingers brushes against your panties, he retreats them and caresses your thighs again. “Katsuki, please,” you pleaded.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Why should I?” He asked, his voice an octave lower.

You felt your face get warmer as you muttered, “So I can cum.”

“What was that?” ‘Oh, this man.’

“Please touch me, Katsuki. I want to cum so bad!” You said, your voice a little too desperate.

“You should’ve said that earlier.” Katsuki replied before you felt his hand push your underwear to the side.

His slender fingers teased you entrance, making you whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” After coating one of his fingers with your wetness, he slowly pushed it in. “Oh, fuck, Katsuki.”

He kissed your lips once again as he prodded his finger in and out of you. You moaned against his lips, which he replied with a groan. You felt him insert another finger as his thumb made its way to your clit. They all worked together, picking a fast pace. Katsuki made sure to swallow all of your moans and whimpers through the kiss. He wanted to make you scream so bad but this is just not the right place to do that.

His fingers went faster and you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. “Katsuki- fuck- I’m cumming.”

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” And that was more than enough for you to do so. You released a loud moan as your body trembled upon your climax. Katsuki guided you through your orgasm, slowly massaging your clit as you go down from your high.

He watched as you catch your breath. Your eyes, heavily lidded and your forehead, a little sweaty. But the night is young and you’re yet to finish this round.

Katsuki kissed you softly as you recover. And soon as you have, he asked you to turn around. “Ass up,” he commanded and you obliged. You felt his hand made contact with your your ass, making you yelp. It hurt, but it hurt so good. “You like when I do that, don’t you? You dirty bitch.” And another smack on your ass, which made you moan.

You heard the familiar clanking of his belt. It never failed to send waves and waves of anticipation to you, especially down to your already wet cunt. You subconsciously moved your ass up higher, making Katsuki swear. “Fuck, you’re really dirty.”

He pulled his pants down and stroked himself a few times. “Do you know how long I waited for you to finish that damn long conversation with Deku? I thought you’ll talk the whole night. Tsk.”

“I’m sorry.” You mindlessly said.

“Oh don’t worry. We’ll see just how sorry you are.”

And with that, you felt Katsuki’s cock make its way to the deepest parts of you in one go. “Fuck!” You moaned loudly. “Hey now, you don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my cock, now, would you?” He asked as he rammed his cock into you.

After receiving no replied, he once again spanked your ass, “Answer me when I talk to you.”

“N-no. No, I don’t want them t-to hear- how much I love your cock-” you finally replied, your words being slurred with your moans.

Katsuki kept on fucking you hard. You kind of wondered if the sound of his balls hitting your ass is heard from the outside but you’re too drowned in pleasure to fully contemplate about it. His thrusts were hard, deep, and fast. You could’ve sworn that the car is visibly shaking from the outside.

You felt one of Katsuki’s hand snake its way in between your legs. Katsuki’s finger draw tight circles on your clit, making you bury your face further into the seat. You tried to muffle your moans but your attempts were proven futile as you released yet another loud and long moan. Katsuki’s fingers were fast as they guide you through your second, and so far, hardest orgasm of the night.

“Oh, fuck, you’re clenching my cock tighter.” Katsuki groaned as he fucks harder into you, trying to reach his own high. You felt his thrusts get sloppier by the second.

“Fuck, I’m fucking cumming.”

“Cum inside me, Katsuki, please.” You pleaded as you get overstimulated with his gestures.

A string of swears left Katsuki’s lips as he ride you into his own release. You felt the warm shot of liquid paint your walls as he did so.

The two of you stayed still on his car for a while, catching your breaths and cleaning yourselves up with wet wipes. It’s a good thing that you left a pack of them on his car, thinking that it might come in handy some time. And it did!

You inhaled the fresh air as soon as you got out. Both you and Katsuki, then, made your way inside the venue of your party. You heard Izuku’s worried voice call you, “Where have you been? Momo and I have been looking for you!”

“Oh, I- I just went out to get some fresh air.” You replied.

“It’s very cold outside though. And why are you and Kacchan kinda… sweaty?” Izuku asked, not sure if he’s actually seeing sweat on you and Katsuki given that it is very cold outside.

“We just warmed ourselves up.” Katsuki replied as he snaked his arm around your hip.

‘This is going to be a looong night’

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urhoneycombwitch · 10 months ago

Text

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 4 months ago

Text

Be still, my foolish heart.

Pairing/Au: Soft single dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 8816 (I know, I’m sorry 💀)

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for… our one and only Joel Miller.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, meet cute, a little bit of a slow burn, reader is curvy, has breasts and vagina and wears a dress, apart from that no other specific description is given, age gap (reader is 35, Joel is 46), Joel is a single dad and he is soft (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a soft Joel okay), reader doesn’t trust Joel immediately and she thinks he might be dangerous (he’s not, he’s cutest), Sarah is alive and well and she’s mentioned multiple times, mention of Tommy, Joel is a contractor, unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL, folks!), pussy pronouns, mention of use of oral contraceptives (reader is on the pill), fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), dirty talks, elderly people being fragile and sick, slight mention of Joel’s prescriptions including antidepressant (game Joel took it so I put it in there), I know that prescribing medicine doesn't exactly work like that in America (not even in Italy for that matter) but allow me a poetic license (😂), reader has insecurities about her body, mention of bullying and previous toxic relationships that reader has been subjected to, internal reader’s voice inserts, pet names (pretty lady, good girl, honey, sunshine, baby, babe, angel), squirting (not specifically mentioned but still), Joel is feral and reader too.

I don't think I forgot anything but if I notice it I'll add it right away.

I made a mood board for the first time in my life, I know it's not great but I tried 💀 English is not my first language so please be gentle (I also have Covid at the moment… yeah, it’s 2024 and I caught it for the third time, lucky me), I hope there aren't too many mistakes, no beta so it's all my fault LOL, no proofreading. Title is an Hozier quote. Of course, because I love this man.

Oh sh*t, here’s what I was forgetting: the mirror scene is inspired by Polin (yep, it was a great scene ❤️) but I think I personalized and changed it enough to make it just Joel and reader's, at least I hope.

(Reader works in a clinic because I do this job so yes, she has this thing in common with me besides being curvy. Every time I write a curvy reader is so personal to me)

I might write something else about these two if you like, I really love this pairing and I hope I’m not the only one, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read this 💐

Archive tags : @pedrostories

You are at your desk, absorbed in an email you are writing to a patient who is asking for prescriptions for medicines. The clinic is empty and quiet and this doesn’t happen often so you’re trying to keep up with emails and messages and phone calls that you have received in the last hour.

Suddenly the door opens and a man enters the clinic, at first you don't even look at him, you just say "Good morning" and continue typing.

He clears his throat and says “good morning” and stops in front of you, on the other side of the desk. He’s clearly waiting for you to shift your attention to him so you turn and look at him. For a moment you’re speechless. He’s a gorgeous man.

Tall and broad, dark hair slightly streaked with silver, strong aquiline nose, beard and mustache framing a pair of plump lips, perfectly designed jawline and neck.

Stunning.

You didn’t expect anyone like this ‘cause really, the doctor you work for has hundreds of elderly patients or families with children and you have never been interested in married men, you don’t even look at them but anyway, you never saw a single person that was attractive to you in this place before.

You smile politely as you ask “do you need anything?” and you want to sink into your seat because you don't even have makeup on and you're wearing the first things you found in the closet this morning. An old pair of jeans and a black top.

“Yes please, I need some prescriptions. I just changed doctor because my previous one is now retired. I always sent an email to his secretary but this is the first time I've asked for my prescriptions here so I thought I'd stop by in person especially since I was in the area. I’m working in the building next door”

Bingo.

That’s why you never saw him.

You quickly look at his hand on the desk for a ring and it’s not there.

His hands are gorgeous though, big strong working and experienced hands.

“Sure, can you tell me your name please?” you ask trying to keep your tone professional while being excited to know more about him.

“Joel Miller” he says and you find the way his tongue rolls up to pronounce the r at the end so delicious it’s almost embarrassing.

For a moment you're almost afraid he might hear your thoughts.

You turn back to the computer typing in his name and a moment later his medical records appear.

46 years old, born in late September, he lives in Austin. You look at his prescriptions and notice a reflux medication, another for high blood pressure, and an antidepressant.

Oh.

What happened to him?

“Well, Mister Miller, what do you need today?”

“You don’t have to call me Mister Miller, even if you’re younger than me I think?”

You look down in bewilderment, not expecting much familiarity from him since it’s the first time you’ve seen him but you answer anyway “Yes, actually. I’m 35”

“So you can call me Joel” he says with a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth and hopeful eyes of someone who asks not to make him feel old.

“Of course I can” you hurry to answer “So… Joel, what do you need today?”

He gives you a grateful look and replies, “I don’t remember what it’s called but… my medicine for high blood pressure.”

“Oh yes, this one” you nod and proceed to prepare it, “just a moment, Mr Miller… uhm I meant Joel, I need to get the doctor to sign it,” you tell him as the printer gurgles, spitting out the prescription paper.

You stand up from your chair, feeling your legs a little unsteady, and once you’re in front of him his height impresses you even more. He’s imposing, you’re a curvy girl and yet you feel so tiny in front of him.

You notice that he looks you up and down and seems pleased, his eyes reflecting an approval that makes you very satisfied.

You move quickly to the doctor's office, enter apologizing and have him sign the prescription. When you leave you find him standing in front of your desk waiting, he looks at you again and you notice a certain sparkle in his eyes.

"Here you go" you say and hand him the prescription.

You feel his fingers lightly brush yours and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you, “you are very kind.”

“No problem, have a good day,” and you approach the desk to sit down again. You see him hesitate for a moment, as if he wanted to add something.

“Do you need anything else?” You ask curiously and a part of you really hopes that he will ask you for your phone number or if you want to go get a drink after work.

“Oh no, no thanks, see you next time”

His gaze drops to the floor as he says this, as if he's embarrassed, which you like because it feels like you're not the only one in the room who's been pleasantly shaken up by this encounter.

He puts his hand on the door handle and turns once more, smiling shyly.

You smile back feeling a sense of tenderness so premature that you wonder if you're losing your mind.

You go back to work but all you think about is him, you want to know more.

You enter his name again in the search bar and reopen his folder. Joel Miller. You wonder who he really is and what he does but apart from his pathologies and his date of birth you don't find much else about him. His address is there but you certainly won't use it for unorthodox purposes such as accidentally ending up in his neighborhood, you would pass for a stalker as well as a very unprofessional secretary.

Nothing stops you from noticing that he lives in a very quiet residential neighborhood though.

Will he be married? There are men who do not wear a wedding ring so it might not be safe to rely only on the fact of not having seen it.

You hesitate a bit before doing so because you already feel awkward enough for someone you've only seen once but in the end you type his address in the search bar to see if other people who live with him in the same house appear, usually families tend to have the same doctor for convenience.

You hold your breath as you stare at the white screen waiting and after a few seconds a result appears.

Sarah Miller.

“There I knew it, he’s married” you think, huffing and shrugging, but then you look better and realize that this Sarah is 14 years old. “So… he has a daughter”

No one else showed up in the results so you assume he is not married but he may have been and then got divorced. Unless his wife chose another doctor but that seems very strange to you.

You contemplate trying to Google his name but then decide it's best to wait until you get home, you can't use the work computer for personal stuff.

You sigh and go back to your work, completing your search just a second before the doctor comes out and asks you if you have any urgent messages.

Today everything is strangely quiet though, even if you wasted time looking for information on Joel you finish all the work, not without thinking about him at least once an hour. You feel silly, you shouldn’t have any kind of thought about someone you don’t know and with whom you have only exchanged a few words, the fact that he seemed interested and that he was about to ask something while he was about to leave could also be false projections that you have made in your head. And yet…once home, after taking a shower and putting on clean pajamas, you throw yourself on the sofa nibbling on a sandwich and open your laptop.

You open Google and type his name and the first result that comes up is “Miller - construction company”

It could be him, now that you think about it he mentioned he was working on the building next door which is in fact under construction.

You scroll down to the bottom of the page where the owners are listed and you see two names, Joel and Tommy Miller. You assume that Tommy is his brother. You go back to the Google page for a moment and check if there are any namesakes but no one else in the city has the same name. And just like that, you know what he does.

You don’t think you can do anything with this information, you live in a new apartment and everything is in perfect working order so you just have to wait. Before leaving he said “see you next time”, so now you find yourself wondering when the next time will be. Probably in a month, when he will need a new prescription.

Such a long time. But maybe this will help you, you tell yourself. It's just a passing thing, you tell yourself. You can't be so foolish as to project your fantasies onto him. You decide that this is okay, you'll just get over it.

_____________________

After a week you almost got Joel out of your mind. You worked quietly, met the usual old people who came to the clinic to be examined, no sign of him. You'd be lying if you didn't think about it anymore but you stopped yourself from doing something foolish like contacting him for a fake construction job to try to meet him.

You are preparing some prescriptions when the doctor comes out of the office and asks if you could please take some medicine to the home of a very elderly patient. It is something you usually do not do but the caregiver cannot leave her alone and her son is away for work all week so she had no choice but asking you to do that. It will take up extra time because you will have to go to the pharmacy and then to her house, the doctor offers to pay you overtime but you know the lady and say that it is not a problem, you can do it without compensation.

Of course you can do that for Rose.

When she was better and could move around quite independently you often talked when she came to the clinic, she immediately took a liking to you and treated you like a niece, she would bring you gifts, vegetables from her garden, other times sweets cooked by her.

She is a dear lady, you are happy to be able to do her a favor.

At 5:00 you leave the office and head to the pharmacy, pick up her prescriptions, and get back in the car to drive to her neighborhood.

Rose lives in a nice street with many rather large houses, well-kept gardens and white picket fences.

You knock on the door and Georgia, the caregiver hired by Rose's family to assist her, opens it.

You already know her, she has accompanied Rose to the clinic many times but lately her health has worsened a lot and she can no longer leave the house.

“Hi, Georgia! I I brought Rose’s medicines”

“Hey! How long has it been since we saw each other? Come in!” She says with a big smile.

Georgia is a very sweet person and a great professional, she has taken great care of Rose all these years. She is a qualified nurse and the granddaughter of a long time friend of Rose. Georgia had moved to Texas from Arkansas to attend college and since then she had always lived at her grandmother's house, who lived a few miles from Rose's house.

She took the job because she loved her and when her grandmother passed away Rose was very close to her.

Georgia offers you a coffee and some chocolate cookies she has prepared, which you gladly accept.

You chat a little while Rose is resting and then when it's time to wake her up to take her evening medicine you accompany Georgia to her room to say goodbye to Rose.

She is lying motionless in a bed, now forced to ask Georgia for help with everything, she is almost 85 years old now and you are so sorry to see her like this. Until a few years ago she was an energetic, witty woman, with lots of hobbies, she loved reading, gardening, cooking and going to the movies. Now she was a ghost of herself. And the worst thing was probably that her mind was still working, so she realized what was happening to her and this made her even sadder and more helpless. Her body did not respond, while her mind understood everything.

She recognizes you right away and greets you so sweetly with her now faint voice. It breaks your heart to see her like this.

She asks you for a hug and you put your arms around her little shoulders, holding her gently. She's always been good to you, she doesn't deserve this.

You leave the room, wiping away a tear, without letting Rose see you, and say goodbye to Georgia, promising to come back and visit them soon.

You stand in the driveway feeling helpless for a moment, you would like to do so much more. Some patients have become like an extended family to you, you have known them for years and seeing some of them fold in on themselves, increasingly frail and elderly is so bad.

You look up and see a black pickup truck driving down the road. There’s a man in it and he looks familiar. He pulls into the driveway two houses down and gets out. And oh, shit.

It’s Joel.

Joel Miller.

He lives in the same neighborhood as Rose and you didn’t even registered that in your mind before.

You don't know what to do, whether to get in the car and drive away pretending nothing happened or take the opportunity and go say hello to him.

It seems silly to say hello to someone you've only seen once, no matter how attractive they are. You walk to your car, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

You're about to curse because never once do you find something in your bag, it doesn't even matter what it is. Big bag? You find nothing. Small bag? You find nothing either.

Your eyes move for a moment to the asphalt and you see two boots approaching, you look up again and you see two legs wrapped in dark jeans streaked with paint and of course to those legs is attached the rest of Joel Miller's wonderful body.

Your eyes widen and you watch him stop in front of you, beautiful as a God. Even more beautiful than the first time you saw him.

“Hi! I saw you across the street and I was pretty sure it was you. I almost made a fool of myself, but hey, I was right!”

You lose your words, it's as if they've slipped out of your brain and melted at your feet.

At least you solved a dilemma, he greeted you first.

“Hi” you say shyly.

This doesn't make you any less nervous, you were trying to sneak out of this neighborhood unnoticed and you could say that he ruined everything and you don't know him well enough to know whether to be grateful or keep running away pretending to be very busy.

He has a daughter, a respectable job, a brother, lives in a nice neighborhood, and seems to lead a regular life. Is that enough to trust these days? Probably not.

This dude can be anyone, a serial killer, a criminal, a drug dealer, a thief, whatever.

How do you know he doesn't sleep with a gun on his nightstand or keep dead bodies in his basement?

Trust no one, is something you learned from a very early age and you always stood by it, safety first.

Have you been wanting to see him again for a whole week? Yes.

Did you just realize that you know nothing and that you might be risking something? This too.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” He asks, running his hand through his curls in a way that drives you instantly wild.

God, why is he so gorgeous, this doesn’t help at all.

You can always run to Rose and call the police if he suggests something strange and you’re in the middle of the street in broad daylight so you decide to take the risk and say the truth

“I came to deliver medicines to a lady who lives here” you reply, acting like he doesn’t have any kind of effect on you.

“Oh, so this is something you do? I didn’t know that”

“No, not regularly. I actually did it because it’s Rose, you know. She’s an adorable old lady”

He nods as if he knows exactly what you're talking about and actually says, "Sure, Rose. I know her. She used to babysit my daughter many years ago."

Okay, those are some great credentials. So maybe you can trust Joel Miller? Isn't he a lunatic homicidal? Maybe not.

Obviously you pretend you don’t know anything about Sarah and ask, “Oh really? You have a daughter?” raising your voice in surprise for a better result.

“Yeah I do. She's 14 years old and she's already giving me a hard time, she’s so smart and responsible that she’s basically parenting me” he shrugs while a little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can see in his eyes how proud he is of her.

You giggle “well, she sounds so cool, I do love a tough girl.”

“Oh, she’s definitely your girl then”

You smile and think that after all, yes, Joel probably doesn't have any horrible skeletons in his closet.

And again he falls silent and looks uncertain and embarrassed, he lowers his eyes and then asks you, “You know, I’m going to be working in the building next to where you work for a little while longer, so I was wondering if you’d like to have a coffee with me sometime?”

It’s like every word is bouncing around in your head as you think about what to say. Would you like to get to know him better? The answer in the end is, “Yes, I would like to, thank you” you feel your face heat up as you say it.

Joel shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he looks at you, he seems nervous, excited but above all happy.

“I’m glad you accepted. So…what do you think about tomorrow?”

“Okay, I have lunch break from 12 to 2, is 1 okay for you?”

You see his face light up “sure that’s fine. See you tomorrow then”

For a moment he raises his arm as if he wants to come closer and touch you, but then he immediately lets it slide down his side.

Gentleman, you note in your head.

It is not yet the time for such confidence, but secretly you hope that it will come soon.

You say goodbye to him and get back in the car and you see him waving at you in the rearview mirror.

“God, Joel Miller, I already know you’re going to be a threat for me. In the best sense of the word.”

_________________________

In the weeks that follow, you and Joel share a lot of coffees. Every day he waits for you outside the clinic at 1:00 sharp, you go to the corner café and chat for an hour before returning to work. He tells you a lot of things about himself and his life which you adore listening about.

He also confides in you that he was in therapy and had to use antidepressants for a period of time, when Sarah's mother abandoned them. You completely understand.

And the more you talk to him the more you get convinced that he’s a great person, you don’t have any doubt about that.

He never fails to compliment you, on your clothes, on your hair, on your eyes, on your nail polish.

He laughingly admits that the compliment about the nail polish was Sarah’s suggestion. “Dad, she told me, girls like it when you notice details.”

You laugh out loud and nod. “She’s right. And you’re right, too, you have a very smart daughter.”

He shrugs “I know,” and then adds. “It’s been so long since I’ve dated anyone, I don’t even remember how to do it anymore.” You lean slightly across the table and whisper. “Well, I think you’re doing great.” And it’s true. You feel spoiled like a queen.

He gives you a mischievous smile “oh yeah?”

“Yes, definitely” And you want to kiss him right there, in that crowded café.

Yet a voice inside you still can’t understand how someone like him, who could have all the women he wants, is inviting you, a curvy girl.

You shouldn’t, but you still have those latent insecurities from when you were 15 and boys in your class made fun of you. Somewhere inside you there is still that fragile and wounded teenager who thinks it’s impossible that someone could truly love you. Or even just desire you.

And you hate it, because Joel has done nothing but show you how much he enjoys spending time with you. And his compliments have always sounded sincere, his eyes are, they send you a reassuring image, full of admiration. He seems truly interested in you.

You're still in this internal monologue where you curse yourself for being like this when he asks you, "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

Oh. He did it. He took the next step.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your mouth unable to help but curl into a smile you answer “yes!” a little too loudly.

You put a hand over your mouth as he looks at you amused “well, I’m glad you’re so excited about the idea. Should I pick you up at 8?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect” you reply, quietly this time but with a little firecracker in your chest that keeps banging where your heart is.

You finish your coffee and go out and he asks for your address which he writes down on his phone. You try to say that there is no need for him to bother but he insists on picking you up.

“Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it”

“Good, see you tonight” and this time his hand wraps around your arm and squeezes lightly as he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You return to the clinic feeling like you're walking on clouds.

You come home after working as hard as you can while still feeling anxious and completely unsure of what to wear. You know you didn't do anything wrong and that's a relief because you certainly can't mess up your patients' medications.

You jump in the shower, mentally going over everything in your closet. You decide to exclude any black dress because no, simply no. It's a special day and you want to wear a color. Maybe the green dress? No, green doesn't suit you, you don't even know why you bought it. Maybe the red one? But that one is very low-cut and you've rarely felt good enough to wear it. Maybe the blue one? The blue one is low-cut, but not too low-cut, it hugs you in the right way, it doesn't highlight what you don't want. Yes, maybe it's the right choice.

You hum in the shower as you wash your hair, satisfied with your decision.

You come out feeling invincible. Joel Miller has asked you to dinner. It’s been years since anyone has asked you out. You didn’t like the ones who did, and God only knows how much you miss good sex. Someone who touches you just right. Someone who makes you sigh and whimper and feel alive in his arms.

Someone who kisses you and leaves you breathless and doesn't hesitate to make you feel simply amazing as he goes down between your thighs.

Joel seems to have all the makings and miraculously seems eager to give you exactly that.

You slip into the dress and look at yourself in the mirror. You like the image it reflects. To hell with those stupid kids who always gave you shit and made you feel horrible.

You're going out to dinner with Joel Miller tonight.

Joel fucking Miller who in the high school categorization is the equivalent of the football quarterback.

The High School Prom King.

God, that makes you feel so good.

He rings the doorbell at 8:00 sharp, just as you’ve finished putting on your favorite lipstick. You take a deep breath as you go to open the door, placing your hand on the handle, and mentally preparing yourself for what you’ll find on the other side.

Finally you open it and he’s perfect. He looks like a painting framed by your door.

You stifle a scream with all your strength and say “hello” to him in a high pitched voice.

Goddamn you.

He doesn't even seem to notice. “So, miss, are you ready?”

“Sure, thank you.”

You grab your bag from the hall table and walk out with him. He takes your hand as he walks you to his pick up truck, opens the door and helps you get in.

Once in the driver's seat he turns to you and says "you look incredible tonight"

And you're about to say that after all you could skip dinner, who cares, instead you could go to your room and fuck. But you decide to behave as well as him, this man has a daughter to take care of and it seems like he's not looking for a one night stand judging by how many coffees he's offered you and how much he's put in to get to know you, so much so that by the second time he could order for you with his eyes closed, so you just say “you too” with the biggest smile widening on your face.

And oh, it's so true. He left aside the flannel shirts and the worn jeans and with them he was already the most attractive man who had ever caught your eye.

He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a beige shirt that hugs his strong biceps. You can glimpse his soft tummy as he drives, the last button before his belt tightening in a delicious way, his meaty thighs wrapped in those jeans are mouth watering.

The work he does makes him muscular in all the right places.

The car stops in front of the restaurant and he opens the door for you again. He lets you enter the restaurant first, he addresses the waitress politely and they place you at the best table in the restaurant. You are impressed, he did all this for you.

The evening passes pleasantly, you talk a lot and chat about everything, by now there is a familiarity between you that you have built over the weeks, you feel safe and comfortable with him. Finally. After so many failed and wrong relationships you feel like you have found someone right. Joel is not ashamed of you, he doesn't try to change you, he doesn't comment on your weight, he is truly a breath of fresh air.

And you see the way he looks at you, enraptured. His eyes sparkle as he talks to you and listens to you. He listens to what you have to say and never makes inappropriate comments.

You both have a sense of humor and you like that, you manage not to take yourself too seriously and laugh together. Which is hot. Extremely hot. Every time you see that dimple on his cheek pop up, your knees buckle and your heart melts. He’s so adorable.

You also like the fact that he talks to you about Sarah, it makes you feel involved in his life, it seems like he doesn't try to keep you separate from it.

“Sarah is at a sleepover at one of her friends. So…would you like to stay over tonight?” he says it looking you straight in the eye and you already know what it means.

It’s the night.

The big night.

After all, you felt it and put on your favorite lingerie.

“Sure I want to,” you reply, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. His hands big and strong…you can’t wait to feel them all over your body.

He insists on paying the bill despite your protests, you walk out of the restaurant and toward the truck when Joel grabs your waist and presses you against the door. He’s an inch from your lips, you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say no?” you tease him with a mischievous smile.

His body is completely on top of yours and the truth is that you can already feel your panties getting wet.

“I would quit, but it wouldn’t be easy so I hope you’ll reconsider”

You giggle “okay” and you feel his hands tighten on your hips.

He presses his lips against yours and it's a sloppy, needy kiss, urgent, all spit and tongue.

It leaves you breathless and you wonder what he will do in bed if this is the effect he has on you with just one kiss.

In fact you are touching each other really for the first time, in these weeks you have imagined many times his lips, their taste, their softness, their warmth. Now you know that he exceeds all your expectations.

He's calmer now, his lips fit perfectly between yours, he gently nibbles your lower lip and continues to lick inside your mouth.

He’s divine.

Utterly divine.

His hands run up and down your hips and he's about to lift your dress and grab your thigh when you stop him. “Joel…”

He looks at you with bated breath and eyes begging for mercy. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Not here…please, take me home” you whisper and he sighs “okay”

You don't even know how you managed to stop but you want your first time to be just for the two of you, you don't want to risk prying eyes or voices shouting obscene comments getting in the way.

You're already nervous enough that he'll see you naked for the first time.

He makes you get back in the pick up and gets into the driver's seat, while he fastens his seat belt you cast an eye at his crotch and you realize he’s semi-hard.

While he's driving, you put your hand on his thigh, because he has to know how much you want him.

You squeeze gently and hear him grunt “Babe…don’t do it, I won’t make it home.” and you giggle.

His low, raspy voice drives you crazy, and for a moment while you're stopped at the traffic light you consider sliding down your seat and straddling him but no, just no, wrecking his car on your first date wouldn't be the best way to end it.

You take a deep breath, leaving your hand quietly on his leg, but you want… oh you want so much to move it up and reach his bulge and stroke it over his pants.

When he pulls up in his driveway in the cab of his pickup truck there's an electricity between you that could power a small village, you feel it fluctuating in the air.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and leans over you to unbuckle yours, not without kissing you. “Let's go, pretty lady, I feel like I can’t wait a minute longer”

You get out and run to the door, he nervously searches for his keys in his pockets and opens it. You don't even have time to look around, it's the first time you enter his house but you only see it fleetingly because he takes your hand and immediately drag you to the bedroom.

There’s a chest of drawers in one corner and a wardrobe, both made of dark wood, probably made by him.

In the center of the room there is a large bed with a headboard of the same wood, the walls are a beautiful cerulean blue, there are three paintings hanging above the bed.

The bed has beige sheets and a light beige duvet with white stripes.

It’s a very manly cozy room, he makes you sit on the bed and you feel how comfortable it is, it's like him, warm and soft.

He starts undressing in front of you, he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans without taking his eyes off you, he seems hypnotized by you.

You suddenly feel like there's an emptiness in the pit of your stomach, you wonder if you're ready to make yourself so vulnerable in front of him.

Oh fuck, where did this come from now? Why? You were so happy just a second ago.

It was easy in public places, you were able to use irony and your defense tactics.

Now there’s just the two of you and you wanted that, you insisted for that and yet you feel exposed now.

You know it's right, your insecurities right now aren't from Joel. Joel makes you feel safe.

It's you, it's just you.

Joel notices your hesitation, comes closer and caresses your face then he gently takes your chin and raises your gaze towards his

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you reply in a small voice.

“If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, darling.”

Your voice cracks a little as you reply “no, oh no, Joel I want it”

“So what’s wrong? Talk to me, you can trust me, you know?” He slips his hand into your hair and caresses you gently, looking you intensely in the eyes.

It's so stupid, all night you've felt hungry and lustful for him and now… you're afraid that seeing you naked he might think he made a mistake.

“I…” you try to say. You know that he at least deserves sincerity from you “I… I’m ashamed”

Joel's eyes widen and a completely confused expression appears on his face “about what?”

He really doesn't seem to understand and it makes you feel a little frustrated

“About my body, about the fact that I'm not thin, I have stretch marks and many other defects and you will see them” you say it all in one breath feeling silly.

“Oh babe…no. Listen to me carefully: you’re absolutely gorgeous. You don't have to be afraid to undress in front of me, I'm sure that whatever is under your clothes is wonderful and deserves to be worshipped. I really like you. I'm not saying this just because I want to have sex. You’re beautiful, honey”

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you fight them back with all your strength “you could have anyone you want”

“I want you. I want you if you let me” his voice is firm, his fingers caress your jaw until they reach your lips and brush them gently.

“Do you trust me?”

Sure, why shouldn’t I. He’s never given me a reason not to. you say to yourself.

“Yes” you whisper

“I want nothing more than to make you feel good and I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I know”

“And you can always talk to me about anything, okay? I don’t want to make you regret this”

He is sincere. He is absolutely sincere and you can clearly see it in his big beautiful brown eyes.

“Okay” you smile

“And by the way…your curves make me absolutely feral” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?” you say with a hint of surprise

“Sure. Would you let me prove it to you?” his hand is on your shoulder now and lingers on the strap of your dress.

“Yes, please Joel… yes”

Damn insecurities, they were about to make you lose the best man you've ever met.

And now you feel impatient again and want his hands everywhere.

Now you notice his broad chest, the freckles scattered across his skin, the happy trail of hair that ends up hidden by his jeans.

Now you can enjoy the view of his muscular shoulders and strong neck and you can't wait to taste his skin under your tongue.

His hands move slowly over you, he slides the straps of your dress and reveals your bra.

“Get up,” he says, “I want to show you something.”

You look at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Come with me” he takes your hand and makes you get out of bed.

He takes you to a full-length mirror in a corner of his room “Sarah made me buy this because she says I have to look at myself before I leave the house. She says I make terrible combinations when I get dressed. Sometimes I'm in a hurry and wear my shirt inside out or something like that." he says smiling and shaking his head.

You giggle and the confidential tone with which he speaks to you makes you feel special.

“Well I don't know if it's the mirror's merit but you did a good job tonight” you joke.

You are in front of the mirror and he is behind you “look at yourself”

You become serious again and observe yourself.

“Look how beautiful you are” he says in his deep and slightly hoarse voice“can I?” he asks placing his hands on the clasp of your bra. You nod.

He takes off your bra and drops it on the floor. You look at that woman in the mirror, you look at her skin and the roundness of her breasts and her hard nipples and then you look into his eyes and you see nothing but admiration “God, your breasts are amazing” you hear him say “can I touch them?” and you nod again “yes, please Joel”

He traces the outline with his fingers and then cups his hands and fills them with your tits.

You don't miss the moan of pleasure that he tries to stifle in his throat “they are so soft” he squeezes them delicately “mmm baby, they feel amazing in my hands”

He takes your nipples between his fingers and tugs on them slightly “and these? Look how sexy they are, I bet they would be delicious in my mouth”

You feel your skin heat up and your head spin, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his hands playing with yours hard buds and his words go straight to your cunt. He’s so good at this.

“Open your eyes, honey” he whispers in your ear “don't stop looking at yourself”

His hands leave your breasts and for a moment you want to take them and put them back there but you let him. He slides your dress down your hips, until you're left in your underwear in front of the mirror.

“You’re stunning” he punctuates every syllable on your skin making you tremble “absolutely gorgeous”

His hand slides over your stomach and your belly that always makes you feel insecure “Is that what worries you?” he asks as if he can read inside you “that you don't have a flat stomach? Honey, your tummy is amazing.”

He squeezes it and it seems incredible to you how delicate his big hands can be “It's full and delicious and sweet and I can't wait to bite into it”

You squirm, leaning over his broad chest “Oh my god” you moan

He caresses your hips with both hands, supporting you “and these… they feel welcoming and warm and mmm baby, so sensual. Can you see it? They fit my hands so perfectly”

You look at yourself and you've never felt this way.

Guided by his words you finally see yourself beautiful and desirable.

He slips his fingers under the edge of your panties “Can I?”

“Yes” you say in a breath

He slowly slides them off, revealing your pussy “Jesus.” He mutter “look at her. Look how perfect she is”

He just touches your mound and you feel hypnotized, his voice, his hands, the warmth of his body, it’s all too much.

“Oh baby… I love that you left that little strip of hair”

You can't hold back anymore and you whine “touch me Joel, I want more”

His voice vibrates on your soft skin again “Tell me what you want, in detail” He bites the spot where your neck meets your shoulder “I want to hear”

“Oh god… I want… I want your fingers inside me, stretching me just right” you babble “I want to feel full”

His fingers slide between your folds “God baby you’re soaking wet. It’s all for me?”

You squirm under his touch nodding repeatedly, you feel desperately needy and hungry.

“Yes. Please Joel”

“Please what, baby?” He ask maliciously

“Make me yours, make me all yours”

“Can you see how beautiful you are now?”

“Yes” you nod “yeah. Don’t make me wait any longer. I need you, Joel”

You can swear that right now you feel really beautiful and also the luckiest woman in the world.

“Oh, you're getting impatient now… I like that” he says in a hushed tone.

He's still behind you and holding you close, he's still wearing his jeans but you can feel his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You look small in his arms, he surrounds you completely.

He brings you back to the bed and makes you lie down, you are completely naked and yet you no longer feel ashamed and inadequate.

He takes off his jeans, remaining in a pair of black boxers.

At the sight of his erection poking out against the fabric you lick your lips in anticipation.

He lies on top of you, his eyes on yours, looking at you intently “You’re perfect, honey” and then his mouth crash into your neck, kissing and licking everything he can, he takes your skin between his lips sucking and biting like he was starving for you.

“Your skin is like velvet and you smell so good, fuck”

And you whimper and cry and clasp your hands on his shoulder digging your nails in them and you feel like you don’t need anything else in this life.

He lowers himself on your body, grazing at your skin with his lips, lingering for a while on your nipples and mumbling at how good they are.

“I love touching you with my mouth, tasting your curves against my lips” until he reaches your tummy giving sloppy kisses at it and then he bites it. His teeth are attentive and gentle but at the same time eager, like he wants to taste your whole being.

And then he come to your mound and traces your thin strip of hair with his tongue and you buck your hips and move one of your hands through his curls and you plead “more, Joel, please”

He grunts at you when you tug his hair and you look at him with the most miserable begging eyes you can pull out “You want it so bad, babe? Want me to eat you out?”

You mewl a yes and he smirk “want to come on my tongue?”

You nod again “yes”

He places himself between your thighs “God, she seems made for this. So sweet scented and pretty. I bet she tastes so good”

And in an instant he dives into your pussy and his nose bumps your clit as his tongue begins to lick you up and down, delving your folds and making your hips jerk.

Your legs are wrapped around his back and his hand is on your tummy holding you in place “god, you look so beautiful like that, my precious angel, all spread and ravenous for me” every word vibrates on your clit and make you moan loudly. It’s like a demon took possession of your body, an insatiable and aching demon that wants nothing but pleasure.

He nudges at your entrance with his tongue and you cry again for more “your fingers, Joel, please, give them to me”

He pushes two fingers inside your soaking wet hole, they enter just easily and he curls them up inside you reaching for your sweetest spot.

“fuck, yes” you howl “god they feel so good, they feel so fucking good, Joel”

“I know baby, I know, you’re taking them so perfectly”

He continues to swirl his tongue over your clit as he pump his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace when you can’t hold your moans anymore and you’re so loud you almost fear his neighbors can hear you “God, Joel, I’m coming - I’m - coming ah- god you’re incr- ah” you’re totally babbling trying to get a complete sentence out of your mouth and you can’t, you just can’t because he’s too much and you never felt that good before.

“Soak my fingers, babe, soak my face, give it all to me”

Your pussy clench around his fingers and you feel breathless as your orgasm washes all over you, his dirty talk made you over the edge.

You whine his name as you come, again and again and he doesn’t stop lapping at you until you’re calm.

He lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, you bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, “Oh, Joel.”

His hand sits on your ass squeezing gently “Such a good girl for me. I can’t believe you almost called yourself out from this”

You playfully pinch one his nipples “don’t make a fool of me”

“I would never” he says, kissing your hair “I’m just saying that you’re too good to not be taken care of. Your body deserves to feel passion and lust and all of that”

“On that note… there’s something else I’d like to do” you look at him maliciously

“What, baby?”

“I would love to… uhm… fuck, I would love to give you head”

He tilt his head “excuse me miss? Watch your mouth!” You giggle hiding your face in his chest and he laugh, and then he goes serious and ask “You sure? You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to”

“Yeah, I know” and you raise your face to kiss the lovely bald patch in his beard and you move to his ear and you whisper “I really want that though”

“As you please, sunshine”

You cup his bulge in his boxer and stroke it gently over the fabric “someone else here needs to be taken care of too”

He grunts “yeah, baby, keep going like that”

“Actually… I can make it even better” and you move from his side getting on your knees on the bed and then sitting on your heels as you keep stroking him.

You lower his boxer and his cock spring free, he’s already hard as rock. You lick your lips “delicious” and he looks at you mischievously “I guess you can be naughtier than I thought, baby”

You smirk back at him, lowering yourself on his groin and kissing the tip of his cock, just the tip, gently as a feather.

You giggle and pull back as he bucks up his hips to your mouth “so impatient, aren’t you?”

“It’s just… I didn’t have anyone giving me head in a very long time”

You open your eyes wide “I don't believe it”

“I swear” he says in a lower hoarse tone “I didn’t… I had some one night stand here and there but nothing serious, you know, I needed to be focused on Sarah and my work. so everything was quick and meaningless”

You can’t imagine Joel having meaningless sex with anybody, he’s so respectful and attentive with you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Joel Miller, do you mean to make me believe that all the women in the neighborhood aren’t in love with you?”

“Oh Rose loves me for sure” and you laugh “but about the others… I don’t know, some of them tried a couple of times but I always rejected them. I told you, I didn’t have time for complications”

“Then why you’ve changed your mind now?”

“Sarah threatened to sign me up for Tinder if I didn't find someone. And then I met you”

You giggle “so you went out with me to be safe from Tinder”

“At first, maybe. But now you know that it's not just that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

What he just did speaks volumes about how much he likes you.

And you’re even more convinced now.

You lower your head and lick the tip again swirling your tongue around it and he moans.

You slide your tongue flat along his length and wrap your hand around the base. It's big, bigger than you expected but you don't feel intimidated.

“Oh baby, you’re so good to me, what have I done to deserve such a perfect girl?”

He gasps when you took all you can of his cock in your mouth, feeling his length sliding over your tongue and his musky taste invading your palate, you whine beginning to suck like you’re desperate, stroking the rest of it with your fingers.

It doesn’t take too much before you start feeling him throbbing between your lips, he’s right on the edge as you suck and lick and kiss him like the most delicious lollipop you’ve ever had.

He pants loudly bucking his hips “Baby I’m almost - AH- almost there”

You make his cock pop out of your mouth “finish inside me, then”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m on the pill” you nod straddling his crotch and positioning his cock at your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself feeling the tip force its way into your hole and you moan with every inch that pushes its way inside you.

You stay still for a moment feeling his cock fill you up completely.

He says nothing but he looks you in the eyes and the brown of his pupils has become incredibly dark.

Eventually you start moving on top of him, placing your hands on his chest, your pussy making lewd sounds and your tits bouncing, he takes them in his hands squeezing them as he sinks into you, deeper and deeper and harder and harder.

You’re basically riding him and you've never felt so wild and free, your insecurities just disappeared clouded by your pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous like this, look at the way your hips move, it’s so fucking amazing”

You throw yourself onto his chest as you feel his seed paint your walls, you take his mouth with yours stifling his moans that echo inside you.

He slides a hand between you, searching for your clit, and his calloused fingers begin to move over it. You end the kiss to look into his eyes, “don’t stop” he whispers “come for me baby.”

Your head feels light and your vision blurs as you feel your orgasm building up from the depths of your tummy, your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock.

You gush all over him like never before, making a mess of his crotch and the sheets underneath, crying his name so hard.

You rest your head next to his, inhaling the smell of tobacco, wood and the sweat of his neck, and you laugh, you laugh joyfully, “God,” and he does the same, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your back “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, I'm sorry”

He holds you tighter “you don't have to be sorry, darling, it was wonderful”

“I made such a mess” you murmur

“So what? Nothing that laundry can’t fix. And I’m good at laundry, you know?”

He kisses your forehead and stroke your cheek “I haven't felt this good in ages”

“Yeah, me too” you kiss him wrapping one your leg around his.

You both stay quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, kissing every now and then suddenly it hits you and you say, “Do you know who we owe all this to?”

“No, I don’t honey, to whom?” he asks confused.

“Rose” you say “Think about it, if I hadn't brought her medicines that day we wouldn't be here now."

“That’s true. I think we should go visit her and bring her a nice present.”

“Yes. She will love the story of how we met.”

You kiss him again and think about what gift could match this. Probably none, because it's the best thing that's ever happened to you.

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