#how to give cookies eyebrows

[guzekna]

[milkbreadtoast]

IDK... IDK!!! 🫥

[jellyjamheadobb]

god I wish I was joking about this (left to right crappy rendition)

anyway so yeah Guajiro Cookie’s younger brother is going to be white/albino

in case you can’t read my scribble:

*trying to find a way to draw the sibling, unsatisfied with the way he basically looks like a male Nutmeg Tiger* *sigh* oh well…

*stomach growls* hungry…

*thinking* boiled chimken.. mmm… -//w//-

*sudden idea* boiled chicken is white… WAIT! WHITE TIGERS EXIST!!

“holy shit I’m a genius”

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, sickfic, SFW, requested.

Mara is surprised to see him. "Hey Captain Riley."

He nods. “She in the back?” The knit between her eyebrows is quizzical, and she shakes her head.

“What? No… she went home. Hours ago. Said she didn’t feel well.” He doesn’t bother to school his expression into neutrality, and she turns sheepish, like somehow she’s the one in trouble now. “I told her to call you. She was nearly falling asleep back there. Almost face planted in the batter of these cookies.” She points to an artfully arranged tower of chocolate chip cookies, their little placard labeling them as ‘brown butter’. What that means, he’s not sure. 

“How long ago did she leave?” He had no idea you were sick. Worse, you didn’t say anything. You lied by omission, sending your usual morning text messages, your before lunch check in with zero mention of feeling unwell. 

He’s not angry with you, because he understands you. This is uneven footing, new territory, a lot to learn for his little fawn. You’re finding your way in this new life, and he has plenty of time.

 A learning experience, that’s all this is. 

“Like… an hour ago? Maybe two?” A frown tugs his lips towards his chin. 

“Her car is still in the lot.” 

“Oh yeah… she walked.” Walked? You walked? 

Your ass is going to be sore for a week. 

There’s a queue forming behind him, so he steps back, gives her a parting glance before turning to leave. “Thanks Mara.” 

“Tell her I hope she feels better!” 

You live on the fourth floor. The elevator in your building is busted, along with the front door’s lock, and there are no cameras, no security, nothing stopping anyone from walking inside. 

Just his baby in a fourth floor apartment with a measly deadbolt and chain. 

You’ll be so much happier at home with him.

It takes three tries for you to come to the door, and when you find him on the other side, your expression splits in two, one side saturated with relief, the other, buzzing with nerves, but somehow still half asleep. 

“H-hi.” You croak, sweating and shivering, standing there in only a t-shirt. 

Miserable. You look miserable. 

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, stepping inside, immediately placing the back of his hand to your forehead, trailing down your chin to find your pulse fluttering beneath your jaw. It’s elevated, and you’re burning up, tears gathering on your waterline, threatening to fall.

"D-daddy," you hiccup, trembling, reaching for him just as he pulls you into his chest with a palm against your neck, rubbing circles at your nape as he takes a quick look around. He’s never been inside your apartment before, though he’s been tempted multiple times, made the trip to your building often, ensuring you’re home safe, watching the comings and goings of others who live here, looking for any red flags or reasons for immediate concern. He’s inspected empty units, tested the standard locks, checked for mold and mildew. It’s adequate, but your own flat is too cramped, and he knows you feel boxed in. 

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Let me look at you." He tips your chin up and moves into your line of sight, glassy, glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. "Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you sniffle, immediately planting your face back into his sternum, “’s just a cold.” 

“You don’t get a fever with a cold sweetheart. Have you taken anything?” He doesn't panic. It's not in his programming, not a part of his reality but seeing you like this, in distress, suffering, is starting to rewire long dormant standards.

“Don’t have a fever.” There’s a short hallway across the living room, two doors on either end, one he assumes is your bedroom, and he starts moving that way, keeping you tucked against him. “I took some naproxen.” You’re floating along with his direction without a single peep, barely recognizing where you are when he sits you down on the edge of your bed. 

First things first. He has to get you out of these clothes and into something dry. “This has to come off baby girl, it’s wet.” 

“Wet?” You’re barely holding yourself up, and he probably only has a few minutes before you’re out. 

“Your body is trying to regulate it's temperature, so you've been sweating.” He finds pajamas in the top drawer of your dresser, lips rolling into a smile as he unfurls the t-shirt. “Gremlins?” You throw him a squinty glare. 

“It’s a good movie.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, tasting the slick of salt before pulling away and tapping your shoulders. 

“Arms up.” You oblige without question, the trust that sometimes gets lost in this newfound dance shining through brilliantly. His hands brush against your ribs, your belly as he slides them beneath the hem of your shirt and tries not to wince at the scorching temperature of your skin. “Good girl. Don’t want you going back to sleep all sweaty do we?” He quickly pats the sheets, relieved to find them dry. 

“No daddy.” Such a sweet girl. You roll instinctively, burrowing in the mound of things in your bed, knees curling up towards your belly. There are at least three different colored fuzzy blankets in your bed, six pillows, and a stuffed cat of some kind, something about it vaguely familiar but difficult to place. A crumpled notebook with loopy handwriting and small drawings adorning the pages is wedged beneath your hip, and there’s a kindle sitting on the other side along with an empty water bottle. The frame itself has a shelf at the head of the bed, and it’s lined with stuff… a small lamp, a ceramic cupcake, a collection of seashells, chapstick, lotion, an empty mug, a glowing mushroom, along with two pairs of glasses and a few candles. It’s clear this is your space, where you’re safe and comfortable, a nest of your own making, a place just for you, and it’s fitting, all of it. Each little piece is perfect just like you. 

He lets you sleep while he cleans and refills your water bottle, finds the naproxen and your towels, pulling a washcloth out so he can run it under cold water for your head. You definitely have a fever, but if you can break it on your own there’s no reason to take you to a doctor. Time will tell, but if it gets worse, you’ll have to go immediately. 

Tally marks for today’s transgressions sit quietly on a slate in the back of his mind for far later, satisfying realization settling in against his soul. You’ve earned a spanking, and stricter rules. 

It’s a fine line. He doesn’t punish for the sake of punishing, there’s nothing good in it for him, or you, but he will punish you for things like this, things that put you in harms way, things like not telling him you’re sick and in need of help. Things like fucking walking ten blocks home. He’ll punish you for stepping outside a boundary, or failing to follow a rule, all of it a double edged sword, one he wields delicately, because often, punishments come with their own rewards, whether they be emotional or physical.

You rouse a bit when he comes back, making little sounds as he props you up to take more medicine, dabs the cold washcloth around your face, cooling you down and wiping some of the stale sweat away. He smooths a palm over your forehead. “We’re going to have a long talk about rules when you’re feeling better.” 

“Mmkay.” You press your nose into his neck. “Are you going to lay with me?” He kisses your temple. 

“In a little bit, I have some work to take care of. Close your eyes for now.” You nuzzle down into the mattress against his thigh and he can’t resist placing his hand atop your head, holding you there, your cheek bleeding heat through his pants, warm, wet breath building a damp spot. 

“But you’ll be here?” You mumble it, and like you’re afraid the answer will be no, you wrap an arm around the width of his thigh. He chuckles. 

“I’ll be right here.” 

[luvyeni]

WHAT THEY SAY ๑. ( 제이크 )

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── you couldn’t believe it when jake said he learned how to please a girl by reading … but he was determined to prove you wrong.. guess what they say about nerds is true …

( 対 ) sim jaeyun + fem. reader wc. 2.5k genre smut · contains! unprotected sex , language , oral ( f ) mature content. / back to library

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i loved writing this…

jake sim; the cute quiet boy who sat in the back of the class away from everyone. the boy who turned in his work on time , sometimes weeks before if he could. he was smart; probably the smartest kid in the class; maybe the whole major… but who knew he was such a fucking sex god?

it all started with a pouty lipped you; your recent test sitting in front of you , marked with a red circle highlighting your failures — your many failures at that. “seriously yn , how did you manage to fuck up this badly?” you whispered to yourself. “it’s like you didn’t even try.”

but you did try; you tried your hardest, it’s just that this subject was one you weren’t that good at it. “i’m gonna fail.” you sighed. “are you okay?” someone stood in front of you. “you’re talking to yourself.” your eyes following the body , becoming face to face with the boy; sim jaeyun. he looked down at the paper , he’s never seen a number that low. “oh.”

you covered the paper in embarrassment. “i’m fine.” you said. “nothing wrong with having a conversation to yourself, it’s only a problem if i answer myself my mother says.” he pushed his glasses up on his face. “okay.” he went to walk away; but you had to push your pride to the side. “wait.” he stopped, waiting for you to continue. “do you think you can help me?” you asked. “i only ask because you’re so good at this subject — sure.” he interrupted you. “really?” you exclaimed. “what’s your phone number?” you handed him a piece of paper. “give it to me.” you smiled.

you both agreed to meet at your apartment at five; so you quickly went home to straighten up; setting out some snacks for you both while you studied. “what are you doing?” your roommate came out of the room; picking up a cookie. “hey don’t eat those , they’re for jake.” your roommate raised her eyebrows. “who the hell is that?”

“a kid in my class; he’s coming over to help me study.” you said. “is he cute?” you rolled your eyes. “ah so he fucking hot.” she smirked. “what’s your problem?” she chuckled. “what i’m just saying, you know what they say about nerds.” you turned to her. “no i don’t , and i never said he was a nerd.” she shrugged. “i’ve seen the homework you get… he’s a nerd.” she walked out the door. “i leave you with your nerd.” the front door closed , then opened again. “and to answer your question they say nerds are the best fuckers.” and with that she closed the door again.

you waited around for him and soon the clock hit 5 o’clock and there was a knock on the door. “did he wait until exactly 5?” you got off your bed , skipping to the door; opening it. “hi jake!” his eyes widened a bit before settling. “hi.” he said as you stood to the side. “come in.” you welcomed him in. “you can take your shoes off and follow me.” you made your way to your room. “we can study in here.”

he stopped at the threshold of your door, taking in your room. “you okay?” you asked; he coughed nervously pushing his glasses on his face. “ye-yeah i’m fine.” you smiled. “well come in then silly.” he walked into your room, looking around at all the posters on your wall; your desk was messy with papers and books. “here.” you sat down on the bed; he opted for the floor. “do you want something to drink? i have cookies.” you said. “um water is fine, thank you.” you nodded, getting off the bed. “i’ll be back.”

you left the room; leaving him alone in your space. jake never really tutored anyone, but he could see the desperation on your face; you clearly needed help and weren’t fucking around and waiting his time like most people have done in the past; not to mention he thought you were pretty cute. he’d notice you all the time when you’d walk into the class , sitting directly in the middle with your friends; but you didn’t play around when it came to work. sometimes you would doze off or daydream and he thought it was cute when you’d bring yourself back once you realize, looking around to see if people saw you; no one else but him did.

so maybe he had a little crush on you and that’s why he said yes; but he wasn’t expecting anything from you since the only reason you called him here was to study. “i bought you some cookies.” you sat the plate down in front of him. “and here’s your water.” you sat back down on the bed. “thank you for helping me.”

he nodded; “you seemed like you needed it.” he said, eyes widening at the realization of what he said. “i didn’t mean it like that, i swear.” you giggled. “i’m bad at this subject, i know.” you said. “the many papers sitting on the table marked in red should tell you.” you pointed. “but hopefully you’ll help me understand a bit more right?” you asked. “ye-yeah.” he pushed his glasses on his face again.

after eating his cookies; the two of you jumped into studying quickly getting into a flow of things. jake was actually a good tutor; and you were understanding things you never did with the professor. “you got it correct again.” jake smiled. “how am i good with you , but i suck when the professor teaches it?” you asked. “some people just need to be taught in different ways.” he said. “i teach myself these things before the teacher gets to it so i already know.” he said; and not in a cocky way either. “how?”

“i like to read.” he shrugged shyly. “well i like to read to but i could never teach myself this, you must read a shit ton.” he chuckled , fixing his glasses. “you could say that.” he said. “besides teaching yourself class work, do you read anything else?” you asked he nodded. “of course i don’t spend all day in my dorm doing work.” he said you giggled. “that would be ridiculous , but yes i do read the occasional fantasy book or horror novel.”

“harry potter; those books are just too long for my attention span.” you said. “really?” he said furrowing his eyebrows. “i wouldn’t know, i put the book down ten minutes in because i got hungry.” you stood up, walking over to your desk. “but i do have a few books.” you said , your back turned as you looked around — jake didn’t mean to; but his eyes couldn’t help but wonder a bit, taking in your figure. he gulped; your shiny legs on display. jake wasn’t a virgin by any means, sure he was probably inexperienced for a boy his age, but from what he read he knew a little bit and he knew the feeling in between his legs wasn’t going away. “here they are.”

you turned around; books in your hand. “these are my favorite.” he coughed nervously as you now took a seat on the floor next to him. “i’ve read them 100 times each.” he took in your scent at you rambled about the different books in front of him. “you smell nice.” his eyes widening realizing he said that outloud. “that was so weird i’m so sorry.” he quickly apologized; you giggled. “just a little but it’s cute.” you said , his cheeks red. “here.” you put your wrist to his nose. “it’s vanilla and lavender.”

l

he took a whiff of your scent; realizing it did nothing for the ache in his lower region, instead it made it worse. your scent clouding his senses. “it smells good.” he said. “thank you it was a gift.” you said. “my roommate is a god at finding the perfect scent for people.” he had to hold himself back from grabbing your wrist, bringing it back to his nose to get another scent. “should we get back to studying?”

you nodded; not moving back to the bed instead you reached up; your shirt lifting up a bit , he didn’t even revert his eyes, the sliver of your skin as you grab the book. “let’s do this.” you said, reminding him of why he was there in the first place; to help you understand the work.

“why did you agree to help me?” you asked randomly; face looking up from the book. “you hardly even talk in class and you sit all the way in the back.” he sat his pencil down, once again pushing the frames of his glasses up. “you looked really upset at the test, and i’ve seen you in class, you actually look like you care about it, you just needed a little bit of help.” he explained with a smile. “and look now you understand and will be prepared.”

“i don’t know how to pay you back; im so grateful.” you said. “you’re a god send.” his face was beat red from all the praise. “yo-you don’t have to pay me back, i wanted to help you.” he said , running his hands through his hair , creating a messy effect; biting down on his lip — he was cute , you always thought that; but now you see it close up, the way his his long slender fingers continuously run through his hair when he’s nervous; or how he chewed on his plump bottom lip when he was super focused on things; damn he was more than cute… he was fucking hot.

you thought back to what your roommate said and you couldn’t help but wonder; was he good at sex? like there was no way girls didn’t find him attractive just because he was smart right? he can be a nerd but also be good with girls. “do you have a girlfriend?” you blurted out, shocking both of you. “uh no , i don’t.” he said. “i didn’t mean to be nosy it’s just that you’re cute and i just can’t believe you don’t even have a girlfriend or at least a few girls lusting over you.”

“many girls assume things about me.” he said. “well it can’t be that bad , it’s not like you’re some sex freak playboy.” you giggle to yourself. “well no it’s not that.” he said. “it’s quite the opposite.” he said. “i’m not following.” you replied. “they think im a virgin.” he said.

“you’re not?” you said. “i’m unexperienced there’s a difference.” he said. “but how hard could it be? i could just look it up right?” he genuinely asked , you laughed. “you can’t just read an article on how to please a girl jake; not every girl is the same.” you tell him. “don’t tell me you’ve actually done that?” he shrugs. “jake you’re cute but that’s the dumbest thing ever; someone as smart as you should know that.”

“actually i think girls are all the same in that way , it’s just that guys don’t understand the female body like they should.” he said. “girls don’t want to be poked and prodded at , they aren’t a game system.” he sounded confident in what he was saying. “and how would you know that? that girls are all the same in that way?” you asked , not noticing the sudden shift in the room. “because–”

he didn’t know what came over him; but he was soon pressing his plump lips against yours, his hands that you stared at for way too long were now on your waist as he kissed you on the floor of the end of your bed. “bed.” he said between kissing you. “bed now.” this wasn’t the shy jake that was flustered by the smallest thing. “ok-okay.” you stood up , sitting on the bed — he stayed on the floor , standing on his knees. “can i?” he asked nervously; yeah he read about this, but this was his first time trying it on someone. “su-sure.”

he touched your knees, pulling them apart. “jake.” you sighed as he pushed his glasses up on his face , kissing your thighs , inhaling your scent. “yo-you smell nice.” he kissed your clothed cunt. “taste good too.” you moaned , he liked that — he wanted to hear it again , so he pulled down your shorts. “jake stop being so slow , it’s teasing.” he quickly removed your panties your wet cunt made his mouth water. “see, even you could learn from other people.”

he licked a stripe up your cunt; you moaned out. “jake fuck.” he licked your cunt over and over; holding your legs over his shoulders; face buried in between your legs tasting everything you had to offer. he was moaning ; sending a wave of pleasure through your body, you could already feel yourself about to cum this early; which was almost always impossible — with a person or yourself alone. “fuck jake , jake i’m about the cum.”

he ignored your pleas; instead he brought his thumb to your swollen clit , rubbing figure eights on your bud as his tongue entered your hole. “fuck jake!” you squealed. “jake i’m-im gonna cum!” he pressed down on your clit; your legs tensing up as you came. “ok-okay i get it.” you tugged at his hair as he continued to eat you out through your orgasm. “you were right.” you said through labored breathing. “you fucking read about doing that?”

his face was covered in your juices , glasses crooked on his nose; nodding. “i told you it wasn’t that hard.” he said standing up. “well what else have you read about?”

that’s how you found yourself pinned under the quite shy boy in class. his glasses were fogged up as he pushed his cock inside of you; slowly filling you up beyond your own imagination. “yo-fuck you-you feel really good.” he moved his hips like a pro , you would’ve thought he was lying about being inexperienced if it wasn’t for the occasional mistake he made, but that didn’t even bother you because he was still much better than anyone you’ve had sex with. “ca-can i go faster.”

“god please.” his mouth dropped open as you clenched around him; urging him to go faster. “fuck jake you’re so big!” he groaned , the way you praised the way his cock was filling you to the brim , he could feel all of you; your warm cunt suffocating him , he gasped.”keep going jake!” you moaned out loudly , glad your roommate did leave. “keep going i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna fucking cum.” he sped up even more , now pounding into you , cock hitting deep inside you. “yes fuck!” you squealed out. “i’m cumming!”

your orgasm triggered his; his cock twitching inside you; he quickly pulled out , cumming all over your stomach. “ngh ah!” he whimpered as he milked himself , making a mess all over your stomach. you have never felt as satisfied as you did before and it was because of him; the boy who read on how to please a girl. “are you sure you haven’t done that before.” he smiled , once again pushing those glasses up on his face.

guess what they say about nerds are true…

©️LUVYENI

[pythonmoth]

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder. paranoia. anxiety. panic. overthinking. reader is traumatized and unreliable. explicit suicidal thoughts. mentioned depersonalization. the voices. jealous simon. kissing the homies pt2. author was angry while writing.

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

text is heavily styled to show reader's panic. if it's difficult to read, I can share the normal version tomorrow. ♡

First | Last | Next

Slow.

That's the only way you can describe how the progress has been for you.

Ever since you fell asleep with Simon on a call, you've been feeling so calm. It's like all the problems disappeared. Your therapist is confused, but glad to see you all happy and content, like never before. Your appetite has come back, your nails have been growing nicely. You give yourself a chance to try on comfortable shoes, a little hesitant to make your toenails hurt, but you can actually walk with them now. They're still a little sensitive, but you're running your errands on your own now. No need to be dependant anymore.

To feel like yourself again has given you so much comfort that you find yourself texting the team properly. Even Gaz has been taking your calls when he's available, which has been great for your mental health, and your heart. Price has been mostly quiet, but you're not surprised, as he's always busy; he mostly just shares updates on missions, like Simon. Johnny has been incredibly funny on the phone, sharing silly things and your mutual hatred towards a new movie has been helping you bond again.

Simon, however...

"Hey, I'm serious! Don't you dare using that fucking tea bag!" Simon grunts from the phone.

You turn to him, laughing as you see him frowning. Simon's unmasked face covers your phone screen, his distaste for the cheap tea bags completely clear. His eyebrows are furrowed together, his mouth curled in a little disgusted snarl. You can only grin, mocking him, lazily patting your hands dry on your pants.

"I've no energy to prepare anything else!" you sigh, dropping the tea bag on the mug, getting closer to the phone to turn the volume up.

Your phone is fighting for it's life resting against a little cookie jar on the isle, your hands still a little damp from doing the dishes.

"Well, if you didn't try to do everything at once, you would" Simon voice retorts. His forehead is covering nearly half of your screen, making it hard to take him seriously.

"I can perfectly do multiple things at the same time".

"The stove".

You turn around to see the stove still on. With a grimace, you turn it off, ignoring his little chuckle as you reach out for your tea and your phone, walking over to the living room. The couch is cozy and fluffy, making you sink into it as if it were a cloud. You drag a blanket over your legs as you smile at the screen, staring at Simon.

"Whatever. Now, what did you have for dinner?"

Ever since that night, this has been your new normal. He has time off, you have a videocall. Really, it's a win-win situation, and it makes you happy, so that's fine. He tells you all about everyone, he tells you about how much he misses you and how much he wants to see you. It makes you smile, genuinely so.

The therapist isn't convinced you're okay yet. She says you're still jumpy, still flinch around people, and she even said you're hyper vigilant. But there's nothing wrong with being precautious, so you don't understand how that's a bad thing. However, you can admit it's a little hard to do things with your hands. It's not that you can't use your hands, because you can, but it makes you feel as if you were in a simulation, as if you were part of a game and you're the point of view for someone else.

Perhaps you should've kept that to yourself.

That's probably why the therapist refuses to allow you to go back. She probably thinks you're crazy, when it happens to everyone. She just doesn't understand.

It's no matter, because they're coming.

Price told you a few days ago that they're finally free, and will be having a few months off unless they're strictly needed. It's been nine months since you last saw them in person, so it makes you feel excited, content!

Tomorrow. They're coming tomorrow.

The best part is that you don't even need to ask what they feel like eating. You know them well enough to know just how much they love meat, so you just have to go out and buy everything.

The air is a more than chilly now, your birthday month coming right up, so you decide to put on your favorite jacket and take your car keys. The drive to the store is calm, the music absolutely blasting your ears, though, your enthusiasm sky high with how much you've missed them these past few months. It makes you giddy, to welcome them, to see them again.

Your therapist has been helping you to identify your emotions, helping you to understand how you are genuinely feeling. And having them over... it makes you a little anxious. Only because you haven't gotten any visitors outside your family and friends, really. Of course you want them there, it's just gonna be new.

In just a few minutes, your car if parked and locked at least five times just to make sure, canva tote bags in hand and then you're walking in the store. You're always making sure to come at a time when there's less people, and you're glad it's keeping up the same. Headphones over your ears, music gently playing on then, you move with practiced ease.

Meat. Vegetables. Pasta.

Meat. Fruit. Meat.

And meat.

They would die if you gave them anything but meat, truly.

You smile to yourself as you carry your things back to your car, your headphones now curled around your neck so you can pay attention to your surroundings, your eyes slyly looking around, turning smoothly whenever you feel someone is looking at you from your back. Your eyes wide open, you fill your car with the groceries, quickly closing it once you're done.

Just for precaution, you look around again before looking inside your car, and as soon as you open the door, you're inside and lo ck in g the car.

Just precaution.

It's dangerous out the re.

You're home the rest of the day, preparing the meals you'll be giving them tomorrow morning. Price did say they'll be arriving at 2pm, so you make sure everything is perfect before going to bed.

That night, you sleep with Simon's breathing next to your ear again, your heart pounding in your chest. The an xie ty keeps on growing, but you're sure it's just giddiness. Really, you're just too excited you can't wait.

The next morning, you almost don't want to get up. The woodpeckers are going crazy with the tree just outside your window, the sunlight hitting your face perfectly from between the curtains and it feels peaceful. Your bed is empty, except for your pillows —and a big plushie of a dragon Johnny got for you a few years ago—, and it's so, so warm you just don't want to get up.

With a sigh, you stand up and quickly get ready to welcome the day, and your friends. You're thankful you made sure everything was ready the day before, because just as you're done blow drying your hair, there's a firm knock on your door.

Surprised, you turn to look at the clock. You didn't even realize you spent so long just staring at yourself in silence. You lost so many hours, when you could've been doing something else!

"Coming!" you yell from your room, jumping down the stairs to the kitchen and turning the stove on.

When everything is already getting heated up, you stand in front of the door, your body suddenly frozen. You're sweating, your heart slowing and then racing in your chest as if it couldn't choose what to do. Your throat is closing up.

You can't move.

Don't open the door.

Run.

Why?

What is happening?

Run.

Another knock makes you snap out of it, but your hands are still shaky as you finally open the door. Your shoulders relax as your eyes fall on Gaz, strong arms instantly wrapping around your middle as Price, right behind him, presses the door against the wall so they can all get in.

Gaz lifts you just enough to make room for the rest.

"Hey, sweetheart. Looking good" Gaz says, beaming, pressing a soft kiss to your cheekbones before letting go of you.

However, you're instantly shutting off again. You don't understand why your legs feel like jelly, why your healed fingernails are throbbing. You don't understand at all why the sudden urge to run, far, far away.

Leave.

Price grins down at you, patting your head and gently gripping your shoulder before side stepping you. "Thank you for having us, kid".

When you look up at Johnny, he's grinning down at you, but you can see the way he quickly catches on your reaction, the way your forehead is covered in sweat, and the way your lips are pursed.

Danger.

"It's good to see you" Johnny says gently, nodding down at you and moving past you very carefully, trying not to touch you.

It feels odd. It feels incredibly off. And there's something weird in the air.

Your stomach is twisting and churning. It's confusing. It's weird. Sulfur? Acid?

Fully focused on trying to understand what happening to you, you're suddenly aware that the burning smell you can perceive is coming from your deep in your stomach.

Fear? Pain? Panic?

Your throat is so closed up you can barely breathe. The fear is making your sight turn a little blurry, your breathing shaky.

Bile. You want to throw up.

When you look up at Simon, your hands clench on your sides, swallowing thickly. It feels so, so wrong to look at him like this, especially when you two are supposed to be okay again, but for some reason, you can't handle looking at him. It's making you feel... off. Odd.

You give him a tight smile and a nod, the giddiness turning ice cold in your stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, nibbling on your fingernails.

As soon as they're all inside, door closed behind them, Simon takes his mask off, his eyes fixed on you, frowning.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. Yeah, come on" you reply, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't give him, or any of them, a moment to think about it as you move to the kitchen.

You check on everything by the stove as Johnny fills glasses with wine. It's too early for wine, but with your teeth destroying the growing fingernail on your thumb... you don't really care right now.

"It smells amazing" Price comments, inhaling deeply. He's sitting at the head of the table, looking ready to sink his teeth in anything. If he's oblivious to the tension in your shoulders, or if he's choosing to ignore it, you can't tell. "This is what having a wife at home feels like. All we're missing is a little one".

That manages to make you smile slightly, your shaky hands relaxing at the friendly tone. You reach out to mix the pots, turning to look at him.

"The only little one any of you will be seeing from me is my knee on your balls. Now, be useful and set the table" you grunt. Price raises his hands in surrender and pats Simon's shoulder so they can do as you asked.

It's not the first time they've come, anyway, so they don't have to ask you where you keep things. Johnny stays by the table, claiming he already poured the wine, but he ends up helping Simon and Price with the plates anyway.

Gaz leaves the table to stand right next to you, suddenly smacking the hand on your mouth firmly.

"Stop that shit" he whispers angrily. He's quiet, even gentle with it, so rest don't hear.

"Sorry. I'm... feeling weird" you mumble, forcing yourself to stop.

"Go sit. I've got this" he hums, nudging you with his shoulder until you let go.

You make sure to sit by the isle, just because that ridiculous anxious feeling isn't getting any smaller. If anything, you can jump and cover yourself with the isle, so this place is fine.

As Gaz serves for everyone and they start sitting down again, you nearly jump off the chair when you realize Simon's sitting next to you, instead of where he was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

"Hey, that's my chair. Go sit over there".

You look up to see Simon glare at Gaz, the two of them staring each other down, a silent conversation between the two of them. In the end, Simon simply let's go of the chair and sits away from you again. It helps you relax, but you keep quiet, reaching out to grab your glass of wine.

"Really, though. If you had a kid running around..." Price starts again, his mouth filled with food.

"Back off" Johnny complains, nudging Price still. Price rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "What a prick".

Simon, however, can't look away from you, paying attention to all of your movements, the way you lean on Gaz, the way you barely seem to be listening.

"If she's marrying anyone here, that's me" Gaz says, suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Y'all stand no chance".

It makes you relax, but only a moment, feeling suffocated by their eyes on you, especially with the way Simon's gripping his fork. You hit Gaz on the ribs with your elbow, only to make him let go. He grins, his eyes gentle. You know he doesn't mean it like that, but it's making you uncomfortable again.

"Oi, watch your—" Simon starts, his eye twitching.

"Not playing house by choice, I've been forced to. I'm pretty sure we don't wanna talk about it, so eat up and shut the fuck up" you snap, your tone just shy from screaming at them.

That makes Price's teasing smile die, nodding solemnly, and finally shutting up. You refuse to look at the way Simon and Johnny's faces drop, both of them staring at their plates, suddenly feeling no appetite.

It's an awkward meal, everybody afraid to make a single noise. You can hear the way Simon's munching on the vegetables, you can hear Price's breathing slowing down just the way he does when he's on a mission, and Johnny... he's only mixing his food together, stabbing an innocent carrot.

After a while, when nobody's chewing and nobody even dares breathing, Gaz breaks the silence.

"So..."

The rest turn to him.

Gaz grins.

A movie.

The sun is still high up, but Garrick suggested to watch a movie, and you said yes. In a heartbeat. Really, Simon shouldn't complain if he gets to see you for a little longer. Whatever that means, anyway, because you don't want him near you at all. Fuck, you didn't even let him sit next to you.

All these months, he thought he'd been helping you, he thought therapy was going well, because during the constant videocalls you've been cheerful, your old self. You smiled at him, you laughed. He had made you laugh at his fucked up jokes again.

But this?

Johnny went with Price to buy crisps, soda, more drinks, and sour candies for you. Those two bastards really couldn't handle a single comment and bolted immediately. Pair of cowards. Simon wasn't stupid, he had seen the way Johnny nearly burst into tears, the way Price's jaw clenched, felt his own heart break inside his chest, but he has to sit here and take it. Because he wasn't a coward.

And this?

You're leaning on Garrick. Heavily.

Simon eyes the way Garrick interlocks your hands together, checking on your fingernails. His eye twitches as he hears you talk, both of you fully focused on each other, as if he wasn't there. It's not that that's a new concept for him, he often only talked so much.

But this?

His heart pounds in his chest when Garrick grips your jaw with a hand, kissing your cheek loudly after you pout at him.

It makes you smile.

That's it, he thinks. I'm getting up and I'm beating him up. Who the fuck does he think he is? Stealing my girlfriend right in front of me.

In the end, he only shifts, his face betraying nothing, looking down at his beer, hoping the other cowards arrive soon so he doesn't have to see the way he keeps losing you.

Losing you, all over again. Over a fucked up mistake, for following an order. And the worst part is that he genuinely gets it. Garrick is the only one who didn't hurt you, of course you're okay with his touch and not the rest.

Fucking hell. He wants to stab himself in the gut to end his misery.

But no.

He did that.

There's no changing it.

Simon looks up at the two of you.

His anger dissipates when he hears your soft laugh, Garrick's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you steady as he pokes your side, clearly sharing a silly moment. Simon grimaces and turns away again, sipping his beer.

It takes Price and Johnny half an hour to come back, and Simon couldn't be happier to see them.

With the snacks covering the coffee table and their laps, Simon genuinely tries to ignore the fact that you're still pressed against Garrick's side, happily munching on your sour candy. Johnny's sitting on the floor right between his legs, occasionally feeding him orange gummy bears or crisps. Price, between Garrick and himself, is staring at the movie, seemingly content with sipping on his beer, and stealing some of Simon's gummy bears.

Every time he hears your low laugh, Garrick's hands on you, Simon wants to die. He grips Johnny's shoulder, his nails digging slightly into his skin, trying his best to pay attention to the movie, but he isn't able to understand what it is about. He doesn't know what's happened in front of him for the past hour. He knows how many times Garrick's lips were pressed to your cheek. He knows how many times you laughed with Garrick. He knows how many times you've shifted, closer and closer to Garrick.

He can't do anything but dwell on his own regret, on his anger. His pain.

He doesn't blame you, he doesn't blame Garrick. Hell, he doesn't even blame Price, or Johnny, or anybody else. Just himself.

He could've done this so much better, but there's not much he can do. He needs to be alone with you so he can talk properly, apologize again, but every time he looks at you, even without the mask, you flinch. It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide it, he can see it.

Johnny gets up, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sees him take the empty plate, walking towards the kitchen.

Not even a minute later, Johnny's cursing and there's a shattering sound echoing on the house. Simon stands up, moving to go check on Johnny, but he freezes when you stand up abruptly, your face in complete shock as you walk away, your arm bumping onto the walls as you rush away.

He's torn for a whole second too long, thinking if he should follow you or check on Johnny first, and that's enough for Garrick to beat him to it. Simon can only stare at Garrick follows after you, sprinting.

After a moment of hesitation, he walks over to Johnny. Simon finds him picking up the shattered plate, grimacing when he sees someone walking in.

"Ah, it's you. I tripped" Johnny grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You hurt yourself".

"Just a tiny cut, 's nothing. Where did she go?" Johnny questions, bringing his thumb to his mouth, sucking a little on the blood.

"I don't know. Practically bolted when you dropped the plate".

Johnny stares at him, blinking. "And what are you doing here? I must've scared her" he sighs, standing up. "Where to?"

"Garrick already went after her".

"So?"

"They're getting along. A lot".

Johnny blinks again.

Smack.

"What the fuck? What was that for now?" Simon growls out, rubbing his head. Johnny shakes his head, still expecting an answer. Simon sighs. "Over there. Come on".

Simon guides Johnny, their feet barely making any noise, used to being quiet and, also, because they don't want to spook you any longer. He finally spots you, the door of the guest bedroom ajar.

He freezes.

Johnny's hand grips his arm, his whispered curse falling on deaf ears.

Simon stands there in complete silence, his blood, and stomach, and his heart and his brain falling to his feet as he can only stare.

Your cheeks are wet with tears but it's barely visible because Garrick's hands are covering them, his lips on yours.

It looks peaceful.

And Simon wants to die all over again.

Johnny quietly shuffles away, but Simon can't look away. Not now.

Garrick pulls away and kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then grips your nose, making you huff, a small smile on your lips. He's grinning, rolling his eyes, as if that kiss didn't just happen.

Simon isn't breathing. He's not even sure he's here anymore. Perhaps he did die, and this is his personal hell.

Must be.

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

chingue a su madre emilia pérez y todos los involucrados. I was pissed writing this and I wanted chaos.

anyway, so there's that ♡ thank you so much for reading!!!

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @rayrayyio @diseasedclitoris @alex1011sdzfgh @thebumbqueen

[k-hotchoisan]

sticky web

<yunho x fem!reader>

when the Spiderman movie night with Yunho has its sticky complications because you're in a spider suit for him.

warnings: smut, pwp, suit fetish (kinda), reader is in a skin-tight venom suit, blow jobs, getting your lil suit dirty, unprotected sex, Spiderman movies and chill, Yunho fucking you through the suit, breeding kink

w/c: 2K

a/n: i'm posting this to appease my lovely readers (y'all) while I work thru your wonderful requests and my shitty writer's block )-: pls take this peace offering! <3 you know i love you guys sm 🩷 (also if you're wondering, spidey isn't my fav superhero but Dr Oct is one of my fav villains!!)

“You're really gonna get him fucked up when he sees you in this”, your friend teases, zipping your body con suit up. “His own girlfriend? Dressing up in a venom suit?”  

You roll your eyes playfully. “It's a reminder that I'll be his little Symbiote.” 

You look over to the mirror, feeling slightly subconscious at how much the suit is just hugging your curves despite how impressively breathable it was. And the reminder that you weren't wearing it out, at least for now, comforted you, mostly because, well, you weren't really wearing anything underneath this body hugging attire.

You had invited Yunho over for a Spiderman movie marathon to spend the Friday night, and the way his eyes lit up when you did? It's the cutest thing ever. You did your best to boost the ambiance too–dying the popcorn with red and blue sugar dyes, making spider web and spider-shaped cookies alongside some crystal candy that fit the theme for that extra crunch.

The doorbell rings, and you jump immediately to answer it when your phone reflects the text of Yunho mentioning that he's reached. 

Unfortunately, you did severely underestimate the effect it had on Yunho, because the moment you opened the door, Yunho definitely got distracted, evident by the reddening of his ears when his gaze rests on your cute little costume. 

You did tell Yunho to come in costume too, and he definitely did–in a red and blue spiderman patterned hoodie and red shorts. 

“What? Don't you like my costume?” You poke for an answer, giving Yunho a full spin, missing the way Yunho swallowing hard, trying not to eye fuck you. 

“You're… definitely dressed for the part”, Yunho manages out, his slender fingers covering his lips and nose, hoping you don't realise that he's growing as red as his hoodie.

He watches the material hugging your body tug and fit you just right, pulling at just the right places corresponding to your movements, and his feels his fingers twitch. 

Yunho turns away, his attention on the assortment of food presented on the table. 

“Red and blue popcorn?” He questions with a raised eyebrow as he settles onto the couch.

“It's just sugar dye”, you assure, sliding next to him, picking up a kernel, pressing it against his lips, your other hand mimicking the same action but to your own lips. Yunho smiles as he chews, the sweetness spreading all over his taste buds. 

“What should we watch first? Should we start all the way from the first Spiderman movie?” You suggest flickering through all the Spiderman movies back to the first. Yunho nods in agreement, stuffing his mouth with a couple more colourful popcorn. Pressing play, you absentmindedly huddle yourself against your partner, not that he minded, and Yunho lets his hands curl around your waist. 

Yunho is engrossed in the first thirty minutes of the movie, periodically munching on the snacks as the flick plays. 

You're leaning lazily against his arm, letting Yunho feed you from time to time, mostly because you didn't want to get your costume dirty. 

He blinks, wondering if he saw wrongly–your nipples poking through the fabric.

You're not wearing a bra underneath or anything?

Yunho shakes the thought off, trying to focus on the movie. Unfortunately his peripherals can't help but betray him, ever so slightly always trailing back to you. 

You look up at him from below, and point to the popcorn. 

“Yu, I want one more”, you request. Of course your boyfriend would feed you another one. When his fingers linger a little too long on your lips, you realise that his eyes aren't on the screen. 

He's staring at you. 

“Someone’s distracted”, you point out with a smirk.

You straddle his lap. 

The movie is paused.

Yunho’s hands are running up your body, and even though it's separated by a layer of fabric, his touches give you goosebumps.

“I can't concentrate when you're looking like this”, he mutters to your lips, and you feel his palm grab a handful of your ass. 

“Then concentrate on this”, you redirect, pulling him into a dizzy kiss–one that's just filled with moans and teasing. The both of you taste sweet, thanks to the popcorn.

 You're rubbing against his erection while he dry fucks you, and you're both not lasting long. 

You climb off him and sink to face his thick erection. Soft sighs as vibrations through the fabric of his shorts make Yunho shiver too. You palm his little problem, and hearing him groan while spreading his legs open is enough to make you clench your thighs. 

Pulling his shorts down, your heartbeat accelerates at his fucking length–precum trickling down his bare cock, veins so thick and prominent.

Your tongue travels up his thick length, and your mind almost go dumb when you feel Yunho’s fingers tug against your scalp. You look up at him through your lashes, visually savouring the way he's getting undone with your lips around his cock, in his favourite costume. Yunho wants you to just choke you on his dick, maybe get his cum dripping down your tits on the tight fabric. 

He only grows bigger in your mouth at the perverted thought and the way your eyes are slowly watering from his dick reaching to the back of your throat? He's not lasting long.

“Shit, that feels so fucking good”, Yunho groans, throwing his head back, pushing your head deeper, enjoying the sick sounds of you choking. Your mind is flooded with how good Yunho feels and fills your mouth, and it’s making you soak through your costume. 

Yunho groans with every squeeze your throat gives him, pushing himself to hit the back of your throat.

“Gonna cum in your tight pretty mouth. You're gonna swallow it all, yeah?”

You nod quickly, trying to keep up the pace of him fucking your mouth. With a strained groan, his cock pulses in your mouth, warm cum seeping through, and it makes your mind so dizzy. 

“Open”, he instructs, and you do, letting some of cum sleep past the corner of your lips and down your throat, then down onto your tits. 

Yunho is getting harder.

Yunho grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, leaving you surprised, and he marches into your bedroom, then drops you onto your bed. 

“Yunho-” you squeal when you feel his fingers press against the soaked fabric hiding your pussy. 

“It's in the way, don't you think?” He asks rhetorically, eyeing the way the damp patch grows bigger when he massages it against your sticky folds, making you bite your lip. Of course you're not wearing any fucking underwear. Yunho should have realised. 

Unfortunately, Yunho doesn't have the patience to take his sweet time to look for the zipper, so he does the more sensible thing–ripping a fucking hole at where your pussy is. 

You blink in shock.

Shit, he really ripped a fucking hole down there. 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“Yunho! This wasn't cheap!” You pout, closing your legs in protest with much futile effort, considering his arms are keeping them open.

He looks at you with indifference. “Then I'll get you a new one. Promise.”

Yunho grabs your thighs and drags you closer to him. His cum on his dick dribbles onto the suit, and Yunho smears it further, sliding his cock down, pressing it up against your creamy and puffy folds, with almost little to no friction. 

“I was thinking of how far I can ruin this suit anyway.”

He swears he's fucking blessed–his gorgeous partner making such an adorable movie date night of his favourite character, dressing up for the occasion, and letting him fuck her dumb in this cute spider suit? He couldn't ask for more.

Your eyes slowly roll back when you feel Yunho’s cock push into your warm pussy, filling you up almost instantly. You hiss softly at the pressure, feeling your tight walls trying to accommodate him. 

“So warm. Oh, fuck,” Yunho groans, already losing himself in your heat. He’s gotten a little more sensitive but he's gonna make it last as much as he can.

There's something so perverted that Yunho enjoys so much–fucking you fully clothed like this. He realises it gets him off so fast. He watches hungrily–the way your tits bounce under the suit when he thrusts deep into you, and how it's as if he's fucking you through the thin suit. His fingers trail up to your tits, and his thumb brushes against your bare nipples that harden under the fabric, throwing you into an additional layer of pleasure.

“Have I told you that you look fucking delicious in this? The Symbiote suits you so well.” 

It's hard to formulate an answer when your boyfriend is fucking your brains out like this, but you know he doesn't mind the silence and the broken moans–it’s your answer.

A couple more heavy thrusts into you, the wet sounds accompanying your sobs before he instructs you to turn around for him.

You go on fours, and Yunho wastes little time to pin your head down onto the mattress by your neck before he fits in wet dick right into you again.

His free hand wanders across your ass, then he gives it a tight slap, making you squeal and tighten on him.

You're clawing the sheets, the pleasure filling you up and you can't concentrate on anything else other than Yunho’s cock filling in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots over and over again. You've surely soiled the costume to hell, but honestly, at least Yunho was making full use of it. 

“So good”, you mutter, your pussy clamping down on the feeling of Yunho stretching you out with his fingers pressing the sides of your throat. You swear you were drooling.

“Is it?” Another heavy thrust. 

Oh shit, you're not sure how much more you could handle. And it seems that Yunho is in a similar situation–his thrusts are getting heavier and sloppier. His mind is in the gutter now, especially when he's forced to watch your pussy leak sticky cream down your folds and stain your inner thighs, mixed with his cum. 

“Cumming-” you cry, your legs shaking. “So good. Can't think-”

“Make a mess for me, babe”, Yunho chuckles, his palm stroking your ass, grabbing a handful before he fucks himself deep once more.

Your mind melts with your orgasm hitting you in waves, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably on his dick, your moans forming a melody for his ears, and it pushes him far enough to make a mess in you, thick and warm cum filling you up that you’re forced to take. You hear him curse and groan behind you, and you drop your hips onto the bed, his cock popping out of you, completely covered in a glisten of cum, some still seeping out from his cock head.

He tugs your ruined folds open, watching his thick cum leak out of your spent hole, dripping onto your thighs, soaked up by the suit. Yunho takes in the sight of you panting, with probably more than half of the suit soiled with fluids, and your pussy, other than your face, both uncovered and in a complete mess. 

Fuck, he just might get hard again. 

“Yunho, this isn't a good idea–fuck”, you whimper, completely losing yourself to him once more. 

Yunho had washed you up a little after that, and he wouldn't let you take off the suit, at least, not yet. You thought finally, maybe you and him could actually watch a Spiderman movie or two, but when Yunho pulled you onto his lap, you knew that plan was out of the window considering that he got hard again, and had you seated right on his cock. None of you are focusing on the movies. 

“Don't be mad at me, babe. I'm just making sure that I make full use of this movie night you're giving me”.

Another thrust into your spent pussy once more, and your thoughts leave your head. 

He's certain of having you fucked and filled with his sticky web by the end of the first movie, that's for sure.

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3@mcarebearsstuff. @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia  @yeosangiess @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @skteezcursed @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319  @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3  @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @songmingisthighs @comicnerd557 @yuyusgirl

[ivyues]

Unlocked Trust: Stray Kids' reactions to the sharing of a phone PIN

Bang Chan

You’re in the kitchen preparing a snack when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Chris, can you check that? My hands are full,” you call out.

“Sure,” he says, walking over.

“The pin’s 0921,” you add casually.

He freezes, eyes widening for a moment before he chuckles. “Wait, did you just give me your PIN without hesitation?”

“Yeah, why?” you reply, glancing at him.

“No reason. Just didn’t think you’d trust me that much,” he teases, smirking as he unlocks the phone.

“Are you seriously doubting my trust now?” you quip, rolling your eyes.

He checks the message, his expression softening as he reads it. “It’s your mom. She says hi. By the way, I’m remembering your PIN as proof of my VIP access.”

Lee Know

“Minho, can you look at my calendar real quick? I think I have an appointment tomorrow, but I can’t remember the time,” you say, restricted by the cat in your arms.

“Where’s your phone?” he asks.

“On the couch. Pin’s 0412.”

He picks it up, muttering, “If this isn’t my birthday, I’d be disappointed.”

“Why would it be your birthday?”

“Because you should’ve honored me with such a privilege,” he deadpans.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He quickly checks the calendar, then grins at you. “Yeah, 3 PM tomorrow. Oh, and I’m changing your PIN to my birthday now.”

“Excuse me?” you tease, pretending to be offended. “You think I’m just going to hand over my PIN to you like that?”

He raises an eyebrow, locking your phone with a smirk. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Changbin

He’s driving while you’re in the passenger seat, and his phone buzzes.

“Can you reply to that text for me?” he asks.

“Sure, what’s your PIN?”

“0309,” he says casually.

You pause, typing it in. “Isn’t that your mom’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a grin. “She’s the queen of my life. But you’re a close second.”

“Wow,” you say, pretending to be offended. “Second place, huh?”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Fine, you’re tied for first. Happy now?”

You give him a side-eye, smirking. “Tied for first? I’ll take it… for now.”

He chuckles, eyes back on the road. “Don’t worry. You’re first in my heart.”

Hyunjin

You’re folding laundary when you realize your phone is across the room.

“Jinnie, can you put on some music? My phone’s over there.”

“Sure. What’s the password?”

“1010,” you say, not looking up.

“1010? That’s so symmetrical. Why?”

“Because it’s easy to remember,” you reply.

He types it in, then teases, “Guess I should memorize this for emergencies. Or when I need to snoop.”

You laugh. “Snoop all you want. My search history is just memes and dog videos.”

He swipes through your phone, humming along to the music that starts playing. You glance at him, amused by how he seems to have completely settled in. “Just don’t start getting any funny ideas with my PIN.”

However, since that day, you've noticed a significant increase in selfies of your boyfriend filling your camera roll.

Han

He’s lying on the couch, arms wrapped around a giant pillow, while his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Jisung, your phone’s ringing.”

“Can you answer it for me?” he mumbles sleepily.

“What’s your PIN?”

“4321,” he says, eyes still closed.

You laugh as you unlock it. “Seriously? 4321? That’s your password?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” you tease, “except a toddler could guess it.”

He opens one eye and grins. “But you’re the only one who knows now, so it’s genius.”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face. “Genius, huh? I’ll make sure to tell everyone you’re a mastermind.”

He groans, pulling the pillow over his face with a dramatic sigh. “That's how you abuse my trust.”

You laugh, putting his phone back onto the couch. “Your secret’s safe with me. But just so you know, this is going down as one of your most questionable moves.”

Felix

You’re baking cookies, hands sticky with dough, when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Lix, can you check my phone? I think it’s a text from my sister.”

“Yeah, what’s your code?”

“0420,” you say.

He snorts as he unlocks it. “Isn’t that the date we first met?”

You grin. “Yep. Thought you’d like that.”

He looks at the text, then smiles warmly. “Your sister says hi and asks when we’re baking together again.”

“Tell her whenever she wants,” you say.

He leans in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “Will do. And by the way, I like how you made our first meeting a memorable one… for both of us.”

Seungmin

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your laptop, when your phone buzzes beside you.

“Seungmin, can you check my phone? I think it’s a notification from work.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0525,” you say casually.

He freezes, then smirks. “That’s not my birthday, is it?”

You laugh. “No, it’s my dog’s birthday.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters, unlocking the phone. “I guess I shouldn’t expect to rank higher than your dog.”

You glance up, teasing. “It’s almost the same thing, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Me and your dog? Really?”

“Yeah, well, my dog’s loyal, cute, and always there when I need cuddles,” you reply.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take second place… but I’m keeping my spot as your favorite human.”

You grin. “Tied for first, remember?”

He looks at you, still smiling. “I’ll take it.”

I.N

You’re sitting on the couch, reading a book when your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Innie, can you check my phone? I think I got a message from the group chat.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0802,” you say absently.

He freezes for a moment, eyes wide, then grins. “Isn’t that my birthday?”

“Yep,” you reply, still focused on your book.

He chuckles, his voice light with excitement. “I can’t believe you gave me your PIN so easily. I guess I’m extra special, huh?”

“You’re the only one who knows it now,” you say teasingly, glancing at him.

He laughs, checking your phone. “It’s from the group chat, asking when we're all hanging out next. And don’t worry, I’ll keep your PIN secret… unless I need to buy something nice for myself.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

masterlist

[v6quewrlds]

❝ goodies, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: ja'marr is a lot of things, subtle is not one of them. when he drops the bomb of joe's no nut november pact, it's only fair you make it as difficult for him to stick to it as possible, right?

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: the idea that started this entire nnn series lol lsu joe 😵‍💫. day six of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, arkansas slander, reader is a menace, sexting, dick pic, unprotected sex, mention of the pull-out method, handjob.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: lsu!joe burrow x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.2k.

Your living room buzzed with the chatter of friends and the distant sounds of a video game battle royale. You leaned into the couch, your elbow digging into the cushion as you listened to Alani and Portia's latest gossip, their laughter echoing off the walls. Across from you, Joe, Ja'Marr, and Justin were huddled around the TV, controllers in hand, immersed in a digital world of basketball glory. The aroma of pizza and the occasional snort of laughter filled the air.

Ja'Marr looked up from the screen and caught your eye, a sly smile spreading across his face. "So, Joe," he said, pausing the game, "How's No Nut November treating you?"

Joe's thumbs hovered over his controller, his eyes flicking over to you before returning to the screen. "It's fine, man. No big deal."

But your ears had perked up at the mention of the infamous challenge. You felt your eyebrows furrow in reaction to Joe's participation in something so ludicrous. "No Nut November?" you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief.

Ja'Marr chuckled, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah, Joe suggested we do it this season. You know, build up that testosterone for the big games."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, so you're telling me that if I showed up at your place, begging you to fuck me, you’d turn me down?” You challenged, your voice a blend of playfulness and disbelief.

Joe, ever the poker face, barely glanced away from the TV. "Well, you're not begging," he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And it's not just about saying no. It's about self-discipline."

You rolled your eyes and whispered to Alani and Portia, "Can you believe this?" The three of you stifled your laughter, exchanging knowing glances.

"Hold up," Portia said, leaning towards you, "If Joe's really into this 'No Nut November' shit, maybe we can make a bet of our own."

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yeah, like how much you think it'll take for him to crack?"

Your competitive spirit ignited. "I bet he won't make it through the week."

Alani and Portia's giggles grew louder, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Okay," Alani drawled out as she thought for a moment. "We'll bet on it. If you can get Joe to break before the week is over, we'll buy your drinks for the rest of the month. But if he makes it, you're cleaning the apartment for the month."

Your mouth twitched with a smirk. "You're on," you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You knew Joe's resolve was iron-clad, but you had a few tricks up your sleeve.

"Are you seriously betting on my bet? That's cold, babe," Joe called out from the couch without taking his eyes off the TV, a hint of amusement in his voice. You stuck your tongue out at him before turning to your friends, your eyes gleaming with determination. "Game on," you said, raising your hand for a high five.

-

The week began with a series of subtle teases from you. You would strut into the room wearing nothing but Joe's oversized t-shirts, your bare legs leaving little to the imagination. You would bake his favorite cookies, their warm, sweet scent wafting through the apartment when he'd stop by to see you. You would casually drop sexually charged innuendos into typical conversations, watching Joe's reactions with a devilish glint in your eye.

But Joe remained unfazed, his resolve stronger than ever. Each day, he'd give you a knowing smile and say, "Good luck with that," before retreating back to his phone or his laptop. The tension grew thicker than the smell of those freshly baked cookies, and the conversations between the two of you were more heated than the Baton Rouge summer humidity.

One evening, as the week dragged on, you sat on the couch with Joe, your legs thrown over his lap, watching the latest episode of your favorite TV drama. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his muscular thighs tense beneath you. The room was dimly lit by the flickering TV screen, casting a warm glow on your faces. You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his neck, whispering sweet promises and nibbling on his ear. His grip on your thigh tightened, and you knew you had his full attention.

"Come on, Joe," you purred, your voice dripping with seductive challenge. "You can't tell me you're not feeling it."

Joe's jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving the TV. "Babe, I'm serious. This is a commitment I made. And I'm not losing."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I know you're serious," you whispered, your hand sliding up to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. "But I'm just saying, you've got to be close to the edge by now."

Joe's eyes darted to yours, a spark of annoyance mixed with lust. "I can handle it," he said firmly, his voice strained.

The days turned into a dance of temptation and denial. You upped your game, slipping into his apartment while he studied, dressed in his favorite set underneath an oversized hoodie, your moisturized skin glowing in the soft lamplight. You would whisper dirty thoughts in his ear, your breath tickling his skin, your fingers tracing the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the growing bulge beneath. Each time, Joe would push you away with a gruff laugh, calling you relentless.

But you were more determined than ever. You knew Joe's weaknesses, the way he liked his kisses—needy, all tongue as you moaned into each other's mouths—and the way his eyes would glaze over when you touched him just right.

-

One evening, you decided to bring in the big guns. As you sat side by side in your bedroom, you leaned over and whispered, "Babe, I need you to help me with something."

Joe looked up from his laptop, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. "What's up?"

You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I can't focus on my homework," you whined, your voice low and seductive. "I'm just too distracted."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "What do you need my help with?"

You leaned closer, your hand sliding onto his thigh. "Well, you know what usually helps me focus..." You trailed off, your eyes flicking down to his crotch before meeting his gaze again.

Joe sighed, setting his laptop aside. "You're not playing fair," he said, though the smirk on his face betrayed the seriousness of his words. You giggled as you shrugged playfully. "But I need you, Joe. I really do."

The air grew thick with tension as Joe contemplated his options. He knew he was close to breaking, and your touch was making it increasingly difficult to hold out. You slid your hand up to his waistband, your thumb brushing against the bulge that had formed in his shorts. His breath hitched, his resolve wavering like a candle in a storm.

"Babe, I can't. You know the rules," Joe murmured, trying to ignore the heat building in his pants. But you weren't one to back down easily. You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. "Please, Joe. Just a little bit," you begged, your voice a seductive purr.

Joe's hand shot up, gripping the back of your neck firmly, his eyes flashing with desire. "Babe, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned.

Your grin grew even wider, your brown eyes sparkling with mischief. You sat up, straddling him, your hips pressing into his lap. "Is that a yes?"

Joe's gaze drifted down to your full lips before he pushed you away, a little too roughly, his breathing ragged. "Nope. Not happening," he said, his voice finding its gruff firmness.

You pouted, your eyes glinting with determination. "Come on, Joe, I'm begging," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.

Joe leaned back, his hand still on the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. "You know I can't," he said, his voice strained.

You leaned in, your breasts brushing against his chest. "But baby, I'm horny," you whined, your voice dripping with exaggerated need.

Joe's eyes narrowed, and he chuckled. "You're always horny."

You rolled your eyes as you shifted away from the bed, Joe's smug grin following you. "Fine," you said, pouting. "But you know this isn't over."

Joe chuckled, standing up and stretching. "I'll make it up to you after the month's over," he promised, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

-

By Friday night, you were more than ready to throw in the towel on your little bet. Joe would be playing against Arkansas Saturday night, and you knew he would practically be MIA most of the day. Sitting in the living room of your apartment, you had all but accepted defeat.

"You know what," you said to Alani and Portia, "I think I'm gonna lose."

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, their smiles smug. "You can't give up now," Alani said, nibbling on a slice of pizza. "You're so close to breaking him."

Portia nodded in agreement, her eyes glued to the TV. "Besides, the game's tomorrow. They're playing an SEC rival tomorrow, he might get caught up in the adrenaline and forget all about the challenge."

You scoffed. "Yeah, because Joe Burrow—Joe Cool if you will—is just gonna forget about his sacred 'No Nut November' because they beat Arkansas... a trash SEC team." But deep down, you knew they had a point. The pressure was on, and you had one last shot to win the bet.

That night, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, you lay on the couch, scrolling through your phone. Your mind was unable to focus on the trash reality show that had become a Friday night tradition for the three roommates. Alani and Portia were sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by snack wrappers and empty soda cans, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you looked down to see a text from Joe. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the message.

You're home, right?

You responded, playing it cool.

Yeah, why?

Good.

Came his curt reply, followed by a photo that made you gasp. It was a picture of Joe's covered but visibly erect length, straining against the fabric of his shorts. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight, your pulse quickening.

Your boyfriend had never been one to send many pictures of himself, let alone pictures that bordered on nudes. You felt a thrill of victory run through you as you realized Joe was finally cracking under the pressure.

You texted back, your thumbs flying over the screen.

Oh, is that for me?

Joe's response was swift.

Yeah, it is. Fuck No Nut November.

The words sent a jolt of excitement through your body. You looked over at your roommates, who were now watching you with confused expressions.

"Joe just sent me a dick pic," you sang, rising to your feet, the excitement in your voice palpable.

Alani and Portia's laughter abruptly cut off, their eyes snapping to you in disbelief. "Wait, what?" Alani squealed, reaching for your phone. You dodged her hand, holding the device away with a grin.

Your phone pinged again with another incoming text from Joe.

Open the door.

Your eyes gleamed with victory as you strutted over to the door, your hips swaying with confidence. You threw it open to reveal Joe standing in the hallway, his expression a mix of frustration and need. He stepped into the apartment without saying a word, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your boyfriend was a beautiful man. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, clocking in well over 6 feet tall, with a gorgeous smile. But as he towered over you in the doorway, visibly frustrated with pink brushes of color over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his Louisiana sun-tanned cheeks, you couldn't help but feel as if he'd never been more beautiful.

"You told them?" Joe's voice was a mix of annoyance and amusement as he stepped into the apartment, closing the door firmly behind him, hand already reaching for the flesh of your hip. You nodded, unable to suppress the wide grin on your face.

"You sent me a dick pic, Joseph Burrow," you said with a smirk, leaning into his broad frame. The sight of him standing there, looking so flustered and needy, had your heart racing.

Joe rolled his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening. "I know," he said, his voice gruff. "I’ll get you guys your 20 bucks in a minute. Right now, I’ve got something more important to handle."

With that, he scooped you into his arms, his eyes dark with desire. You squealed with surprise, your friends’ laughter trailing behind the two of you as Joe carried you into your bedroom, kicking the door shut.

Alani and Portia giggled, retreating to the front door to give you two space. "Take all the time you need, we’ll find somewhere else to spend the night. Just don’t break the bed!" Alani called out as she closed the door behind her, leaving you and Joe alone in the apartment.

The room was bathed in a soft moonlight, the only sound was the rustling of your clothes as Joe laid you on the bed. He hovered over you, his gaze intense as he reached for the hem of your shirt. Your heart thundered in your chest as you watched Joe's strong, calloused hands peel away the layers of fabric, revealing your bare skin. His touch was like fire, leaving trails of heat wherever he went.

"So, Mr. Self-discipline," you smirked up at Joe as he hovered above you, the bed creaking under your combined weight, "What lesson have we learned this week?"

Joe's eyes narrowed in mock anger as he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down. "The only lesson I've learned is that you're a distraction," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Your laughter turned into a breathy moan as Joe's mouth found your neck, kissing and sucking as he worked his way down your body. His hands skimmed over your curves, igniting a trail of pleasure that made your toes curl. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I think we've both learned some things," you whispered, arching your back as Joe's teeth grazed your collarbone. His hands moved your hair away from your face to trail his kisses down to the valley between your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you couldn't help but whimper. "But the most important one is that I always win," you said, your voice filled with triumph.

Joe chuckled darkly, his eyes meeting yours as he peeled your panties away from your skin. "We'll see about that," he murmured, his voice a mix of challenge and lust. He held back a groan of appreciation as he took in the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening with need.

Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it was over his head, revealing his broad, muscular chest. You traced the lines of his obliques with your fingertips, feeling his muscles tighten beneath your touch. Joe leaned down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth with the same urgency that was building between your thighs.

He broke the kiss to pull his shorts off, his erection springing free, standing tall and proud. You licked your lips as you took in the sight of him, feeling a fresh wave of arousal wash over you.

Joe leaned over you, his breath warm and minty as he whispered, "You're so needy, baby. Couldn't go a week without me, huh?" You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you didn't deny it. Your body was begging for his touch, your pussy throbbing with anticipation.

You smiled into the kiss he pressed to your lips. "Not as much as you, clearly."

Joe's smirk grew into a grin as he hovered above you, his cock standing proudly at attention. "Clearly," he murmured, his hand moving down to stroke your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner leg.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Joe's touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your pussy. You were already wet for him, and you knew you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "You're so fucking beautiful, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

"Show me how much you've missed me, Joey," you urged, your voice breathy.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes a stormy sea of blue. Then, with a curse, he gave in, pushing inside you with one swift stroke that made you arch off the bed with pleasure. Your nails dug into the sheets, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was thick, and you felt every inch of him, filling you completely.

"Fuck," Joe groaned, burying his face in your neck. His hips began to move, setting a rhythm that had your toes curling and your legs shaking. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. The friction was exquisite, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you both started spiraling towards your climaxes.

Your hands trailed up from his back into the strands of his hair, his hips beginning to set a relentless pace that sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you. You could feel the tension in his body, the desperation that mirrored your own. You moaned his name, urging him on, your breath coming in pants that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Jesus, babe," Joe grunted, his movements growing more erratic as he continued working you both to your orgasms. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing, his hand reached down to draw your thigh to rest against his waist. His fingers squeezed at the soft, supple flesh until you knew you'd have bruises in the morning.

But you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you so completely.

Your moans grew louder, filling the room as you gave in to the pleasure that had been denied for too long. You felt his muscles tense, his grip on your thigh tighten, and knew he was close to losing his battle against the bet.

"You're gonna break, baby," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. "You're gonna lose the challenge."

Joe's eyes snapped to yours, a challenge gleaming in your depths. "Don't you fucking start with that shit right now," he growled, his breathing ragged despite the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

Joe groaned, the sound of pure agony and pleasure as he fought the urge to come too quickly. Your eyes glittered with excitement, your heart racing as you watched him struggle. But you weren't about to let him win.

He had hell to pay for making you wait.

You slid your hand down between your bodies, your fingertips circling your clit as Joe's cock hit just the right spot inside you. The combination was electric, and you could feel the beginnings of your orgasm building.

Your laugh was breathless, a sweet sound that seemed to push him closer to the edge. You sat up, your breasts bouncing with the movement, and kissed him deeply, your tongue dancing with his.

Joe’s eyes rolled back into his head, a low groan escaping his throat. He could feel his self-control slipping away, the pressure building to a crescendo that he hadn’t felt in weeks. He knew he was going to lose this bet, but he also knew it was going to be more than worth it.

"Let me know when you need to pull out." your voice seemed to curl around him, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you watched Joe’s face contort with pleasure.

"Fuck off, you’re enjoying this way too much," Joe murmured, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold back. "You're on the pill, remember?" He continued, his voice strained as he pushed into you deeper.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you nodded, your hands running over his back. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your hips rocking into his. "But I'm not ready to bring a little light-skinned baby into this world."

Joe groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Goddamn, babe," he warned, his voice strained. "Can't say shit like that when I'm about three seconds away from making it a reality."

"Pull out, dummy," you laughed, knowing he just wanted to prolong the inevitable.

He pulled out with a gasp, his cock glistening with your arousal. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment, your body begging for more. But you knew the game was still on.

He hissed out a strained, "Fuck," and your eyes widened as you watched Joe’s hand wrap around his throbbing cock, the veins bulging with the painful pulse of his ruined orgasm. The sight of his angry, red tip was almost too much for you to handle, but you bit your lip, keeping your own desire in check. He leaned over the side of the bed, reaching to pull out a condom from the stash in the nightstand.

With trembling fingers, he tore the packet open and rolled it over his erection. The anticipation was killing you, and you could feel your pussy clenching, begging for him to fill you up again.

"Get on top," Joe ordered, his voice gruff with need. You didn’t miss a beat, straddling him and sliding back onto his cock with a moan that seemed to resonate through your very bones. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

Your hands braced on his chest, you began to move, your hips rolling in a sensual dance that had Joe’s eyes crossing with pleasure. The head of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and you could feel your orgasm building again. You threw your head back, your hair cascading down your back like a waterfall of chocolate silk.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. Your breath grew ragged as you worked yourself closer to the edge, your eyes crafting a hazy image of Joe in his bliss. You could see the need in his gaze, the desire that was just barely being contained.

Joe’s hands roamed over your body, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples until they were pebbled and sensitive. He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

You leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his chest as you kissed him again, your tongue delving into his mouth with a hunger that matched his. You could feel Joe’s body tensing beneath you, his muscles straining as he held back his release. You broke the kiss, panting, your eyes locked on his.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, baby," Joe murmured against your neck as your hips rolled faster, your breaths coming in pants. He could feel the tightness of your pussy clamping down around him, your walls fluttering with the beginnings of your climax. His own release was barreling towards him like a freight train, the pressure in his balls becoming almost painful.

"Pain in my ass, but so fucking beautiful. "Joe’s voice was a gruff whisper in your ear as his hands moved to your ass, urging you to ride him harder.

You laughed wholeheartedly, a sweet sound that seemed to push Joe closer to the edge. You leaned back, your hands on his thighs, and increased your pace, feeling him swell inside you with every thrust. The sight of you bouncing on him, your pussy clenching around his cock, and your breasts engaged in their own mesmerizing dance, was almost too much.

"Don’t hold back, Joey, I can take it," you teased, your voice thick with lust as you continued to ride him with wild abandon.

Joe's eyes rolled back, and a guttural groan escaped his lips. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, pushing you to the brink of his own release. The tension in the room was palpable, an intense mix of desire and competition that seemed to fuel your passion even further.

You threw your head back, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you felt Joe's cock swell even more. You knew he was close, and you reveled in the power you had over him.

"Do it," you breathed out, your voice a command. "Come for me, baby."

Joe nodded frantically, eyes closing. Then with a whimper, he let go, his hot seed spilling into the condom. Your own orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it. You remained like that for a few moments, your bodies entwined, breathing heavily as you both came down from your shared highs.

You collapsed onto Joe's chest, your heart racing. You felt his chest heave with his breaths, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. You had won the bet, and more importantly, you had Joe's full attention again. You kissed him softly, your hand stroking his sweaty hair.

After a moment, you pulled back, your eyes twinkling with triumph. "How are you gonna explain this to Ja’Marr and Justin?" You asked, a smug smile playing on your lips.

Joe rolled his eyes, a grin spreading across his face despite his defeat. "I'll think of something. Maybe I'll say you’re a witch with magical pussy powers," he quipped, earning a playful smack from you.

"Asshole," you said with affection, snuggling into him. "You’re so gross."

Joe chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "But you love me anyway."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound a sweet echo in the quiet room. "Unfortunately, I do."

The two of you lay together, basking in the aftermath of your passionate encounter, the only sound was your mingled breaths and the distant murmur of Baton Rouge outside. Joe separated from your warmth briefly to get rid of the soiled condom. You could feel his dick pulsing gently as it rested against your thigh, the reminder of his release. It was a feeling you hadn't felt in a while, and it brought a sense of contentment that you hadn't realized you had been missing.

Finally, Joe spoke up, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You know, I should be mad at you."

You pulled back slightly, your smile fading into a look of concern. "Mad? Why?"

Joe sighed, his grip on you loosening. "Because you didn’t even give me a chance to win. You played dirty."

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "But you love it when I play dirty." You wiggled your hips, feeling him harden against your thigh once more.

Joe groaned, his grip tightening again. "You're going to be the death of me," he said, though his voice held a playful lilt.

You giggled, leaning in for another kiss. "But what a way to go," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

Joe's chuckle was strained, his body still humming with the aftershocks of his orgasm. "True," he murmured, his eyes drifting shut as your kisses turned gentle, exploring his jaw and neck.

Your fingertips trailed over his chest, tracing the muscles that had flexed so beautifully under your touch just moments before. Slowly they trailed down to his semi-hard cock, which twitched at the contact. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, your nails scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.

Joe groaned, his smile growing wicked. "You're not helping." A large hand dipped down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it lightly. You giggled, the sound spurring his already raging libido.

Your fingers wrapped around him, stroking him with the same skill that had driven him to distraction the entire week. "What if I don't want to help?" you whispered, your eyes full of challenge.

Joe's eyes snapped open, his smirk turning predatory. "You're playing a dangerous game, babe." But the twitch in his cock told you he enjoyed it.

Your hand stroked him more firmly now, your thumb circling the sensitive head. "Isn't that what you love about me?" you purred, feeling the beginnings of his arousal building again.

Joe groaned, his eyes closing briefly as he fought the urge to let go again. "You're a menace," he murmured, his voice a mix of pleasure and exasperation.

"And you love it," you whispered, leaning down to kiss him again. Your hand never stopped moving, your touch growing more insistent as you felt him swell beneath you.

Joe’s eyes snapped open, a smoldering look in their depths. "Maybe," he conceded, his voice thick with lust.

Your smirk grew into a full-blown smile, your hand picking up the pace. The feel of him in your hand was intoxicating, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. "Maybe?" you teased, your voice rising in mock innocence.

"Fine, I love it," Joe groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your strokes. "But you're going to pay for this."

With a flourish, Joe eased away from your hand and flipped you both over. You found yourself pinned beneath him, his eyes dark with desire. He reached over into the nightstand, grabbing another condom to replace the discarded one sitting in the small trashcan beside the bed.

"Oh, really?" you challenged, your voice laced with excitement. "And what do you plan to do to me?"

Joe's eyes glinted in the moonlight as he leaned over you, his teeth grazing your neck. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," he murmured, his cock nudging against your entrance.

Your eyes widened with excitement, your pussy already slick with anticipation. "Is that a promise?" you whispered, your voice breathless.

"You bet your sweet ass it is," Joe said, his voice a low growl as he pushed into you again. Your walls clenched around him, and he had to bite back a moan at the feeling. He’d missed this, missed you, and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass without making it count.

He began to move, slow and deep, watching as your eyes glazed over with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons on his skin. Your moans grew louder with every stroke, and Joe knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all passion and possession, his tongue dancing with yours as your hips met in a rhythm that seemed to be choreographed by fate itself.

The room grew hot, the scent of sex and sweat mingling with the faint hint of your perfume. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over your tangled limbs. Your breath grew ragged, your moans turning to whimpers as Joe hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. You felt your orgasm building again, a wave ready to crash over you at any moment.

But Joe wasn’t done with you yet. His hips picked up speed, his strokes becoming more forceful as he claimed your body once again. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you matched his rhythm, urging him deeper. Your nails scored his back, leaving red lines in their wake as the intensity grew.

"Such a greedy girl," Joe murmured against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. He could feel you tighten around him, your pussy begging for release. He didn’t plan to give it to you just yet. He wanted to savor the feeling of you beneath him, savor the way you moaned his name like a prayer.

"Couldn’t let me go for a month, huh? Just had to have my cock fuckin' split you open, huh?" Joe grunted, his rhythm becoming erratic as his own release built.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing coming in short gasps. "Y-yes," you managed to whimper out.

Joe’s smirk grew wider, his cock swelling even more inside you. He knew you were close, your pussy clenching around him. He reached between you, his thumb finding your clit, and began to rub it in small circles as he continued to fuck you hard. Your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at him with a mix of pleasure and desperation.

"Joe, I’m gonna—fuck, yes!" Your voice was a breathy whisper, your body trembling with anticipation.

Joe’s own need was palpable, his strokes becoming more urgent as he felt your walls tighten around him. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much I’ve been neglecting you." He growled, his voice a low rumble that made your insides clench.

Your eyes snapped open, meeting Joe’s intense gaze as you felt yourself teeter on the edge. The orgasm built, a crescendo of pleasure that made your toes curl and your body tighten. With a scream, you shattered, your pussy clenching around Joe’s cock in a vice-like grip that had him groaning in ecstasy. He followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you with his hot cum, the feeling of him losing control only adding to your own pleasure.

Your heart raced, your chest heaving with every breath. Joe leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "You win, baby. You always win."

You grinned, your eyes still hazy with passion. "Damn right, I do."

You lay there basking in the afterglow, your bodies sticky with sweat and the scent of sex filling the room. Eventually, Joe rolled off you, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, his cum coating the material of the condom. He disposed of the second soiled condom and then collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving. You couldn’t help but admire the view, his muscles defined and glistening from the exertion.

"Fuck, I needed that," Joe mumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You chuckled, turning onto your side to face him. "You say that every time we fuck, but it’s like you forget how good it is when you go on those stupid bets," you teased, playfully poking his chest.

Joe caught your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. "Maybe I need the bets to remind me how much I miss this when I’m not getting it," he said, his voice still rough from his orgasm.

Your eyes searched his, and you could see the truth in them. Despite the teasing, you knew he enjoyed the challenge you presented, and the thrill of the chase was just as much a part of your relationship as your intimate moments of passion. You leaned in to kiss him, your lips meeting in a gentle caress that spoke of something deeper than the physical connection you had just shared.

As you two lay there, your hearts slowly returning to a steady beat, your mind raced with the implications of your victory. You had won the bet, but more importantly, you had proven to Joe that you could break through his walls of self-control. It was a dizzy feeling, one that filled you with a newfound sense of power in your relationship.

"So, what do I get for winning?" you asked, your voice still husky from your love-making.

Joe chuckled, his chest rising and falling with his breaths. "What do you want?" he replied, his eyes playfully challenging yours.

You pretended to think for a moment, your hand tracing a line down Joe’s chest. "How about you never make a stupid bet like that again?" you suggested with a cheeky smile.

Joe rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face betrayed his amusement. "Okay, fine, I’ll never do a No Nut November again if you promise to leave my fantasy football league alone," he countered, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek gently.

Your eyes lit up with mischief. "You’re an NCAA athlete, you shouldn’t be betting in the first place."

"Hey, a guy’s gotta have fun somehow," Joe said with a grin. He kissed you again, his hand resting innocently on your body for the first time that week.

Your smile turned sly. "Well, you definitely had your fun tonight. I’m surprised you have anything left in you after that performance."

Joe’s grin turned wolfish, his eyes darkening with renewed desire. "Oh, don’t you worry, baby. I’ve got plenty more where that came from." His hand trailed down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before sliding up to cup your ass. You giggled, squirming against him.

"That’s enough for tonight, Joseph. Maybe if you win tomorrow’s game, I’ll consider it," you teased, playfully swatting his hand away.

Joe’s eyes narrowed, his competitive spirit riled up. "Against Arkansas? Babe, have some faith in me, holy shit," he said, his voice a low rumble as you both laughed. "But when I win, you’re all mine for the weekend. No distractions, no friends, just you and me."

Your pulse quickened at the thought of an uninterrupted weekend of Joe’s undivided attention. "Can't wait," you whispered.

[amirasainz]

Can you please do little reader is daughter of someone and alll the drivers absolutely adore her always carrying her away and cuddling her, taking her off the parent

Enjoy reading and send some requests!

Let me know if you want more Yn Alonso stories.

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The Princess of Formula 1

The paddock was buzzing with its usual pre-race energy, and while everyone was used to seeing drivers, engineers, and media rushing around, today there was an extra special guest who caught everyone’s eye—Fernando's three-year-old daughter, Yn. She toddled alongside her father, holding his hand tightly, her eyes wide with wonder at all the noise and colors. She was dressed in a mini Aston Martin team shirt, a green cap, and tiny sneakers that made her look absolutely adorable.

Fernando walked confidently with Yn, making his way toward the Aston Martin garage. As he approached, a couple of drivers immediately spotted the little girl and couldn't help but gravitate towards her.

“Hey there, Yn!” Lando exclaimed, squatting down to her level with a huge grin on his face. He reached out a hand, and Yn, curious and already warming up to the friendly face, placed her tiny hand in his.

“Hola, Lando!” Fernando chuckled, ruffling Yn’s hair. “I didn’t expect her to be the center of attention so quickly.”

Lando’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, come on, Fernando. She’s much cuter than you! Mind if I borrow her for a bit?”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “As long as you give her back.”

Lando scooped Yn up and spun her around, eliciting a squeal of delight from the little girl. “Let’s go find something fun to do, yeah?” he said, bouncing her playfully in his arms.

Carlos wandered over, curious about what the commotion was about. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing Yn giggling in Lando’s arms.

“She’s playing with Lando now,” Fernando said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “He just took her.”

Carlos chuckled and approached Yn, switching to Spanish. “Hola, pequeñita. ¿Te estás divirtiendo?”

Yn looked at him with wide eyes, understanding her father's language better. “Sí!” she replied eagerly.

“We’re going to play dolls,” Lando said, holding up a small stuffed bear he had found in the McLaren hospitality area. “Well, Yn is, and I’ll just be doing whatever she tells me to do.”

“Dolls, eh?” Carlos grinned. “Lando, do you even know what she’s saying? She might just order you to give her all your snacks.” He winked at Yn. “¿Quieres que le quite las galletas a Lando para ti?”

Yn giggled and nodded. “Sí, quiero!”

Lando feigned a look of shock. “Hey! No fair! I didn’t agree to this!” He glanced at Carlos. “Okay, fine, you’re on doll duty too, Señor Translator.”

Carlos sat down next to them, carefully listening to Yn’s instructions as she showed Lando how to make the bear dance. “She says the bear wants a snack, Lando,” Carlos translated with a teasing grin.

“Of course, he does,” Lando said, “Fine, we’ll go find some cookies.” Yn clapped her hands in delight as Carlos took her hand and led her toward the hospitality area.

Not far away, Charles was observing the scene with amusement. When Yn spotted him, her eyes lit up at the sight of a friendly face she recognized. “ChaCha!” she called out, reaching her little arms toward him.

“Bonjour, princesse,” Charles said warmly, swooping in to take her from Carlos’s arms. “Are you having fun with these silly boys?”

Yn giggled and nodded. “Ice cream?” she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“How can I say no to that face?” Charles laughed. “Let’s get you some ice cream.”

Moments later, they were sitting together, Charles feeding Yn small spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream while she giggled between bites. “Just like a princess,” Charles said, wiping a tiny spot of ice cream from her cheek with a napkin. “But don’t tell your papa how much I spoiled you, okay?”

Yn gave a serious nod as if making a grand promise. “Secret!”

Not long after, Lewis wandered by and saw Yn with Charles. “What’s all this, then?” he asked, flashing a smile. “Charlie, you’re spoiling her already?”

“I couldn’t resist,” Charles said with a shrug. “She’s too cute.”

Yn’s attention was already on Lewis, recognizing him from the many times her dad had spoken about him. “Lewie!” she cried out, reaching her arms toward him.

“Well, if the little princess requests,” Lewis said as he picked Yn up and settled her on his hip. “How about we go watch a movie? I’ve got ‘Coco’ ready on my iPad, and it’s in Spanish.” Yn's eyes widened with delight at the mention of a Disney movie.

Yn cuddled up against Lewis as he found a quiet spot in the Mercedes hospitality area. She rested her head on his shoulder while they watched “Coco,” with Lewis occasionally glancing down to make sure she was still enjoying it. Her little face lit up at the familiar songs, and she clapped her hands to the beat.

Across the paddock, Max was adjusting his Red Bull cap when he noticed Yn trotting around after the movie with Lewis, now searching for her dad. Max crouched down, holding his cap out toward her. “Hey, Yn, want to try on my cap?”

Yn nodded enthusiastically, and Max placed the oversized Red Bull cap on her head. It nearly swallowed her whole, and she laughed, trying to peer out from under the brim. “Too big!” she giggled.

“Yeah, it’s a bit big for you, isn’t it?” Max chuckled, flipping the brim up so she could see. “But you look pretty cool, I’d say.”

As Yn wandered around with the cap, Fernando was finally doing an interview, holding his daughter on his hip as she played with the brim of Max’s hat.

“And how do you balance being a driver and a dad, Fernando?” the reporter asked, nodding toward Yn.

Fernando glanced down at Yn, who was fiddling with the microphone cord. “It’s all about priorities,” he said with a smile. “Today, my priority is making sure she has a good time.”

Just then, George strolled by, clearly amused by the sight of Fernando multitasking with his daughter. Without a word, George reached over, scooped Yn right out of Fernando’s arms, and continued walking away, casually chatting with her as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Fernando blinked, completely taken aback. “Did he just…take my daughter away?”

The reporter laughed. “It seems like George has a new fan.”

Fernando shook his head with a chuckle, watching as George carried Yn toward the Mercedes garage. George held Yn up, letting her "fly" like an airplane, which elicited more giggles from her.

As the day began to wind down, the paddock was slowly emptying, and Fernando started looking around for Yn, wondering where she had wandered off to this time. Just as he was about to ask someone, he saw Checo walking toward him, gently cradling a sleeping Yn in his arms. Her head rested on Checo's shoulder, her small fists curled around the fabric of his racing suit.

“I found her napping in the hospitality area,” Checo said softly, handing Yn over to Fernando. “Figured you’d want her back.”

Fernando took Yn into his arms with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Checo. She’s had quite a day.”

Checo grinned. “She’s been all over the paddock—think she’s the real star of the show.”

Fernando chuckled, looking down at his sleeping daughter. “You’re right, she stole the show today.” He kissed Yn’s forehead, feeling a sense of peace and happiness as he held her close.

As the sun began to set over the paddock, Fernando walked out with Yn in his arms, thankful to have his little girl back and ready to head home.

[marscardigan]

love me anyway

neighbor!ellie williams x reader

neighbor!ellie universe

summary: what was supposed to be a fun afternoon with your niece ended up being a complete mess of a weekend with your girlfriend and the four-year-old.

word count: 5.3k

THE APARTMENT was already a mess when Ellie knocked.

Not a normal kind of mess. No, this was the kind of mess born from full-blown four-year-old dictatorship, with the energy of an untrained golden retriever.

It started earlier that afternoon — a call from your brother that came in right as you were pouring your third coffee of the day. “Please. Please. I’m already late. Her sitter bailed. It’s just a few hours. You’re her favorite. Remember? That time with the popsicles?”

You hadn’t remembered the popsicles. Instead, you remembered the toy box incident. The “don’t cut your own bangs” incident. The “where did she get glitter glue at a Thai restaurant?” incident.

But by the time you could form an excuse, he was already thanking you profusely and hanging up. 

And so you ended up like this. Standing in the middle of your apartment, Ellie’s oversized t-shirt hanging off your shoulder and now proudly stamped with a pink dinosaur sticker and a suspicious chocolate handprint. A unicorn sticker clung to your cheek. Your bun had given up sometime around snack hour. And your couch? Fully taken hostage by a very small, very bossy tyrant named Sophie.

Sophie, your niece, was a walking contradiction. She could command a room of adults with a single lifted eyebrow, and yet turn beet red when a stranger said hello. She was shy around new people, but once she decided you were safe? That was it. She owned you. She was relentless, clever, full of opinions and she never got tired.

You were barely hanging on.

Toys were scattered across every inch of the living room. The TV was still paused on a Bluey chapter that was only interesting for, like, five minutes. A mixing bowl of cookie dough sat abandoned on the counter, crusting over, as Sophie insisted she couldn’t make the next batch until “Rexy” (her green triceratops plush) had picked his favorite cookie cutter.

You were elbow-deep in chaos, glitter, and existential dread. And then there was a knock. You froze, and your heart sank. Because that was Ellie. And today, ironically, was supposed to be your quiet anniversary night. The night you’d both been looking forward to all week. A cozy little dinner, movie on the couch, maybe even wine. You’d even bought her favorite kind, the one with the label she always made fun of but secretly liked.

Instead? Your house looked like a Crayola-fueled tornado hit a dinosaur museum. You trudged to the door, took one breath in, and opened it.

There she was. Your neighbor, looking criminally good in her worn hoodie and flannel jacket. Her auburn locks were messy in that way that made you want to run your fingers through them.

She blinked once. Took in the full scene, looked your stained shirt, your tangled hair and the faint smell of vanilla. And she grinned.

“Hey, lover girl,” she said, voice teasing and full of something warm. “You throwing a rave in here? Without me?”

You groaned. “El, I’m so sorry— I forgot it was today. My brother dropped Sophie off, and it was supposed to be a few hours, and then she started planning her own cookie empire, and I don’t know how, but there’s glitter in the microwave, and—”

Ellie stepped forward, kissed your cheek gently, and interrupted with a soft “Breathe.”

You exhaled. Tried to laugh. “I swear I was gonna wear the nice shirt. The one you really like.”

Ellie looked you up and down, nodded sagely, and tapped the purple crayon mark near your shoulder. “This one’s better. You’re giving... ‘toddler battle casualty,’ but like, hot.”

You laughed and stepped aside to let her in. The moment she crossed the threshold, Sophie peeked out from behind the pillow fort.

Ellie spotted her immediately. “Hey,” she said, voice dropping to that careful, open softness she reserved for animals, nervous kids, and you. “I remember you. From your dad’s birthday. You threw juice on my lap. Iconic move, though.”

Sophie stared at her with the intensity of someone assessing a threat level.

You whispered, “She’s shy. Needs a minute.”

Ellie nodded, and crouched, her hands tucked under her knees. “I heard you’re into dinosaurs,” she said casually.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Who told you that?”

Ellie’s eyes flicked to you. “A little birdie. And also the fossil exhibit in the living room.”

Sophie considered that. Slowly stepped out, still gripping Rexy like a shield. “Do you know any?”

Ellie blinked. “Do I know any? No way! I once stayed up until three a.m. learning the difference between a pterosaur and a pterodactyl. And I’m still not over the fact that velociraptors had feathers.”

Sophie stared. “You know about the feathers?”

Ellie’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I respect the feathers.”

You watched as Sophie’s shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. “We were gonna make T. rex cookies,” she muttered. “But we don’t have a cutter.”

Ellie clutched her chest like she’d been personally wounded. “No T. rex cutter?”

“Right?!”

Ellie nodded seriously. “We’ll improvise. That’s what real scientists do.”

And just like that, Sophie climbed fully out from behind the couch, handed Ellie a plush like it was a peace treaty, and declared: “This is Rexy. He’s the boss.”

“Rexy?”

“Yeah. He’s the boss.”

Your girlfriend looked down at the plushie, wincing. “But look, buddy, this is a Triceratops. You can tell from the three—”

You interrupted from the kitchen. “—wrap it up, babe.”

Ellie sighed dramatically, feigning indifference. “Alright. It’s a very special, honorary T. rex who, uh, just happens to have three horns.”

Sophie took the plush, nodded seriously. “Good. He’s allowed.”

Your girlfriend glanced at you, then back at Sophie, then said casually, “Hey, Commander Dino, can I borrow your assistant for a minute?”

The kid nodded, already pulling out the glitter glue. Ellie stood, crossed the room, and took your hands. “You look like you haven’t peed since noon,” she said, too seriously.

“I haven’t.”

“Oh god. Do me a favor and go pee and take a shower, yeah? I got this.”

“But I—”

She raised a brow. “—you kinda stink, baby.”

Your jaw dropped. “Ellie!”

She leaned in, kissed your cheek again. “ Go. I’ll hold down the dino fort.”

You stared at her, heart full and dumb. And then nodded. “Okay. Ten minutes.”

“Fifteen it’s okay too.” Ellie winked, and you disappeared down the hall, heart light for the first time all day. Behind you, you heard her say, “Sophie, I have a mission. We’re gonna make the best non-T. rex cookies in the galaxy. But first, we need a glitter strategy.”

And Sophie, without hesitation, replied: “I have a plan.”

You smiled into your towel as you closed the bathroom door. And for the first time in hours, you let yourself relax.

THE SUN was warm on your back as you pushed open the creaky gate to the park, Sophie’s tiny hand wrapped securely in yours, her sparkly shoes skipping excitedly across the gravel path. Ellie followed behind, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Swings first,” Sophie declared. “Then monkey bars!”

The park was mostly empty except for a few kids on the climbing structure and a couple of moms on a nearby bench. You helped Sophie onto a swing while Ellie wandered toward the bench under a shade tree, where she could keep eyes on both of you while pretending not to be soft as hell about it.

Everything felt… easy. The breeze carrying the smell of mulch and grass and sunscreen. Sophie giggling as she pumped her legs higher. You felt Ellie’s gaze on you and turned around to see her snap a photo — quickly, shyly — then look away like she hadn’t just caught you mid-smile.

“Why is that boy wearing a girl’s top?” a young voice said nearby, loud and obnoxiously clear.

Sophie slowed her swing, blinking. You turned, heart already dropping, and spotted a boy, maybe six or seven, standing with a group of kids near the slide. He pointed a sticky finger at Ellie. “She looks like a boy.”

Another kid giggled. “Is that your dad?”

You froze. But Sophie didn’t.

She hopped off the swing, stomped across the mulch with her fists clenched and her face red.

“That’s my aunt,” she said, loud. “And you’re a poop face.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not your real aunt. My dad says people like that are gross. What a freak.”

The words landed like a slap. You were already moving fast, but Sophie beat you to it.

“Go chew glass!” she snapped, voice shrill with fury. “You’re the freak!”

You blinked in shock. “Sophie—!”

Ellie had already stood from the bench, expression unreadable.

Before you could reach either of them, a tall woman stormed over, her heels clicking furiously on the path. “Hey,” she said, voice clipped and full of judgment. “Is that your child?”

“My niece, actually.”

“Well, she just told my son to chew glass.”

Sophie, still puffed up and red from anger, crossed her arms. “Because he was being mean!”

The woman turned sharply toward Ellie then, sneering. “I don’t know what you people think is appropriate, but flaunting this sort of lifestyle in front of children is completely out of line.”

You opened your mouth, but Ellie’s voice cut through the air.

“This ‘lifestyle’ is just me existing.”

The woman scoffed. “Well, maybe people like you shouldn’t be around kids. God knows you can’t have any of your own.”

Your breath hitched. You instinctively reached for Sophie’s hand and pulled her close, her little fingers clinging to yours.

Ellie’s face stayed calm, too calm. Her eyes didn’t blink, and her voice didn’t waver. “And thank God for that,” she said flatly. “Because if having a kid means raising a bigot who gets his vocabulary from someone like you, I’d pass.”

The woman gasped. “Excuse me—”

“No,” Ellie said, still calm. “Excuse me. For thinking, I could come to the park and watch my girlfriend push her niece on a swing without getting lectured by someone whose personality is just internalized and mediocre hate.”

You choked on a laugh that almost turned into a sob. Sophie squeezed your hand tighter.

The woman’s face turned scarlet. “You’re disgusting. Both of you. This is sick.”

Ellie’s expression changed, just for a second. You saw it. The shift. A flicker of something wounded. You stepped in then, guiding Sophie back toward the bench, crouching low so she wouldn’t have to hear the rest.

And then the father came. Of course he did. Loud and aggressive. “What’s going on here?”

“She insulted our son,” the woman snapped, pointing at Ellie. “She and her… friend.”

Ellie gave a bitter laugh. “Friend? Is that your polite word for dyke today?”

The man took a step forward. “Hey, watch it.”

“No,” Ellie said, eyes sharp now. “You watch it.” You turned, still crouched behind Sophie, who was now hugging her dino plush tightly to her chest. “You want to teach your kid to be cruel? Fine by me. But don’t pretend it’s me that’s the danger here.”

Ellie stepped close, unafraid. “Don’t you dare look at me like I’m the problem. I didn’t teach a kid to hate someone for loving someone else. That was you.”

Silence. Thick and awkward and heavy. The man opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His wife tugged his arm, sputtering something about leaving. And then they were gone.

You let out a long, slow breath. Your hands were shaking a little. Ellie turned to you, her expression softening immediately. “You okay?”

You nodded, blinking fast. “Are you?”

She hesitated. “I’m used to it. But… I hate when you hear it.”

You stood and pulled her into a one-armed hug with your free arm, Sophie still tucked against your hip. “You didn’t deserve that. Ever.”

Ellie swallowed. “Neither do you.”

Then a tiny voice whispered between you. “Can we go home?”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, baby. We can.”

Ellie offered her hand to Sophie, and she took it instantly.

As the three of you walked back toward the car, Ellie glanced over and said softly, “Remind me to buy her a whole cake.”

“For telling that kid to chew glass?”

“Exactly.”

YOU HAD just gotten home from the park. The golden-hour sun had followed you in, spilling lazy light across the floor and catching on the faint glitter still clinging to your couch cushions from earlier.

Sophie was already half-asleep in Ellie’s arms.

At some point between the sidewalk and the front step, the four-year-old tornado had lost steam. Now she was curled up against Ellie’s chest like she’d been born to fit there, head resting in the dip of her shoulder, clutching her beloved plush dinosaur like a sleepy lifeline.

Ellie had popped on a random episode of Pokémon and was whispering little commentary into Sophie’s hair every so often.

You just smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching them— the quiet rise and fall of Sophie’s chest, the way Ellie adjusted her arm every so often without waking her, like she was terrified of being too firm. Like she knew exactly how to hold a child who trusted her.

Then your phone buzzed on the table.

You hesitated, not wanting to break the peace. But it was your brother’s name on the screen, and something about the timing made your gut twist.

You stepped into the hallway and answered quietly. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I—shit. I’m sorry,” your brother said immediately, already frazzled. “The meeting ran late. There’s a dinner thing now, and I’m stuck. Like, stuck-stuck. I was gonna send someone, but they bailed.”

You frowned. “So…?”

“I can’t grab Soph tonight. I didn’t mean to dump her on you for this long, I swear.”

You glanced through the hallway, back into the living room, and felt the tension in your shoulders ease. Sophie hadn’t moved. Ellie had shifted slightly, stretching her legs along the couch now, her hand cradling Sophie’s back like instinct.

You felt something heavy and soft settle in your chest. “It’s okay,” you said gently, lowering your voice. “She can stay the night.”

Your brother exhaled on the other end. “Are you sure? Like, really sure? You guys had plans today, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, watching Ellie brush a strand of hair from Sophie’s forehead, slow and careful. “Honestly, I think she’d be heartbroken if I tried to wake her up right now.”

“She likes her,” your brother said quietly. “Ellie.”

You smiled. “Yeah. She likes Sophie too.”

“Tell her thanks, okay? And thank you. Seriously. You’re saving my ass, once again.”

You murmured a goodbye and hung up, then padded softly back into the living room. Ellie didn’t look away from the screen, but her voice was low and amused. “Was that Big Brother?”

You nodded, easing down beside her. “Yeah. He’s stuck at some dinner thing. Can’t pick her up.”

Ellie glanced down at Sophie’s sleeping face, then up at you with a crooked little smile. “So it’s a sleepover, then.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Looks like it.”

She adjusted the blanket across Sophie’s legs with one hand. “Guess that makes me the honorary cool aunt. Or maybe the dino wrangler.”

“You might be both.”

You sat for a moment in the quiet, listening to the muffled sounds of Pikachu yelling on screen, watching the soft light of the TV ripple across Ellie’s freckled face.

She looked so at peace. Like this wasn’t even a question. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. This kid tucked against her, your hand close by, the three of you wrapped in something wordless and safe.

You hesitated, then whispered, “You don’t have to stay.”

Ellie turned to you. “What?”

“You’ve had a long day. I know. You don’t have to stay the whole night, El. I can—”

“Nope.” Her answer was firm. “Not happening.”

You felt your throat tighten. “I just meant, if you’re tired—”

“I am tired,” she said. “But this—” she nodded toward Sophie, curled tighter now, cheek squished into her chest, “—this is the kind of tired I don’t mind. I’d rather be here, in your living room, covered in cookie crumbs and glitter dino stickers, than anywhere else.”

You looked at her for a long time, heart full. Then, shifted closer and pressed your lips to her cheek, then her jaw. She turned into the touch.

“I love you,” you murmured.

She smiled into your hair. “I love you more.”

Then she leaned her head against yours and let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t say anything else for a while. You didn’t need to. Just the three of you, safe under a shared blanket, with Rexy the dinosaur squished between Ellie’s ribs and Sophie’s tiny arm.

Outside, the sky darkened.

Inside, it felt like home.

THAT peace was now long gone. Sophie stirred eventually, as she always did, grumpy and dramatic about the fact that time had passed. “Is it nighttime?” she asked from Ellie’s chest, blinking slowly like a confused space traveler.

Ellie chuckled and brushed a hand over her messy hair. “Almost. Sun’s clocking out.”

You sat up and stretched. “Alright, munchkin. Bedtime routine. Let’s go.”

Sophie groaned louder. “But we didn’t even finish the Pikachu episode!”

“You drooled on me halfway through it,” Ellie pointed out gently.

“No I didn’t,” Sophie mumbled, eyes already drifting shut again.

Ellie looked over at you, grinning. “Want me to take the lead?”

You raised a brow. “You sure you’re ready for the Great Toothbrush War?”

“I survived the Dino Rebellion,” she replied. “I can handle her.”

You smirked and waved her toward the hallway. “Be my guest, Captain.”

Ellie stood and scooped Sophie up with practiced ease. “Alright, space cadet. Teeth, pajamas, and then I’ll tell you a story about the time a dinosaur got abducted by aliens.”

Sophie’s head popped up from Ellie’s shoulder. “Wait. Really?!”

“Oh yeah,” Ellie said seriously. “Dead serious.”

You watched them disappear down the hall together, your tiny niece still clutching her dino plush, her other hand twisted into the collar of Ellie’s hoodie like she belonged there. And she did. That part was undeniable now.

You moved through the quiet, straightening blankets, folding up half-painted coloring books, collecting plastic stegosauruses off the coffee table like little emotional landmines. You lit the soft lamp by the couch and dimmed the TV until only the faintest blue light flickered across the walls.

Twenty minutes later, Ellie reemerged.

Her hair looked messier, the neckline of her hoodie slightly wet, which you didn’t ask about, and she was holding the empty cup from the kids’ toothpaste like a war trophy. “She fought me,” Ellie said with mock exhaustion, flopping beside you. “But I prevailed.”

“She got the T. rex jammies?”

“Obviously. We don’t mess around on sleepover night.”

You smiled and leaned into her, pulling the throw blanket over both of you. “She asleep?”

“Out like a light. But not before I told her about the dinosaur who accidentally got launched into space by a rogue scientist named Dr. Picklejuice.”

You choked on your laugh. “What?!”

“She named him. I don’t ask questions.”

You kissed her temple. “You’re really good with her.”

Ellie blushed slightly. “She makes it easy.”

You nodded, then paused. The comfort started to settle, but something else was still under your skin. You weren’t sure why it suddenly pushed to the surface. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was seeing Ellie so soft and gentle in a way you knew not everyone had accepted in her life.

Ellie noticed instantly. Of course she did. Her hand slid over yours beneath the blanket.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “You good?”

You hesitated, eyes still on the low flicker of the TV. “I’ve been trying not to think about the park.”

Ellie didn’t say anything yet. She just squeezed your fingers.

“It wasn’t even about me,” you continued. “Not really. But the things they said about you. The way they looked at you. Like…” You swallowed. “Like you shouldn’t be near her.”

Your voice cracked on that last word, and Ellie turned toward you instantly.

“They don’t know you,” you said quickly, like if you said it fast enough it wouldn’t sting. “They don’t see how good you are with her. How kind. And smart. And patient.”

Ellie stayed quiet for a second longer, then turned your hand over in hers, tracing small circles into your palm with her thumb. “I’m used to it,” she said, almost too calmly. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, but it’s not new.”

“I hate that,” you whispered.

“I know.”

You looked at her then, eyes wet. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it. We shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

Ellie smiled, soft and sad. “It’s the trade-off, sometimes. Being who you are in a world that still isn’t built for you.”

You leaned into her shoulder, voice thick. “I just wanted today to be easy for you.”

She pulled you tighter. “It was. But the hard parts? Totally worth it.”

“I just... I got scared. That someone will say something worse. Do something worse.”

Ellie’s hand slipped into your hair, gentle. “If they do, they’ll have to go through me first.”

You snorted softly. “You’re 5’5”, El.”

“With rage strength, babe. Don’t underestimate me.”

And just like that, you fell asleep. You didn’t really mean to. You were just curled into her side, the warmth of her arm around your waist, her nose tucked behind your ear, the blanket pulled high, the distant sound of Sophie’s sleepy breathing coming from the bedroom.

The last thing you heard was Ellie’s voice, barely audible. “G’night, angel”

And then the world slipped away, and everything folded into dreams.

YOUR eyes blinked open slowly, lashes still heavy with dreams, your body warm and wrapped in Ellie’s hoodie. You’d fallen asleep tangled on the couch, but there was no sight of your girlfriend. You stayed there a moment, taking in the early morning quiet. The apartment was softly lit with that pre-8 a.m. haze, the golden sunlight creeping through the curtains.

Something clattered, and Sophie’s voice rang out, bright and relentless, from down the hall. “Do dinosaurs even like waffles?!”

You smiled against the cushion and slowly peeled yourself away.

Padding down the hall, you made your way toward the bathroom, expecting Sophie looking around your drawers. But what you weren’t expecting was Ellie, kneeling on the floor. A full YouTube tutorial paused on her phone, her head tilted as she stared with furrowed, confused concentration at Sophie, who was sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet lid, eyes wild and arms flailing.

“Okay,” Sophie said, mid-rant, “but what if, listen, what if dinosaurs came back but they were like, invisible, and only dogs could see them, so we wouldn’t even know, and maybe that’s why dogs bark all the time!”

Ellie, holding a brush and a hair tie, blinked slowly. “… That’s a terrifying theory.”

“I know, right!”

“Okay, um—head down, kiddo, please.”

Sophie obliged, swinging her head down dramatically. “Are you sure this video is even going to work? It looks old.”

“It’s a braid tutorial, not a crime scene documentary.”

You laughed, and Ellie looked up then, meeting your eyes in the mirror, and froze, immediately flushing. “Oh. Uh. Hey.”

You leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. “You braid now?”

Ellie cleared her throat. “I’m… learning.”

“Mm-hm.”

Sophie twisted around. “She’s trying to do Elsa hair, but it’s not working. At all.”

“I said I’m learning,” Ellie muttered, red now. “There’s, like, sections. And weaving. And finger placement. It’s a lot.”

You walked over, kissed the top of Sophie’s head. “She’s trying very hard.”

“She’s not very good, though.”

Ellie let out a wounded gasp. “Ma’am, I am a musician, not a hairdresser. I work with strings for a living.”

Ten minutes later, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table with a slightly better braid and a mountain of crayons spread across your place mats. A half-colored dinosaur coloring page was already crumpled from her sheer intensity.

“Can dinosaurs wear clothes?” she asked no one in particular.

Ellie, flipping pancakes at the stove, said, “Only the fashionable ones.”

Sophie grinned. “Like Rexy. He wears capes sometimes.”

You were slicing bananas, watching it all like some surreal Sunday morning sitcom.

Ellie passed you a plate, leaning in to kiss your temple. “You slept hard.”

You nodded. “Did I snore?”

“Like a dragon.”

“Liar.”

Ellie shrugged. “A cute dragon.”

You bumped her with your hip. “Thanks for… you know. Doing all this.”

She gave you a look. The you-don’t-have-to-thank-me-for-loving-you look. You’d gotten good at recognizing it. “I like mornings like this,” she said simply. “Even if they start with weird conspiracy theories.”

“Rude!” Sophie called.

“You’re too short to vote,” Ellie shot back.

Sophie grinned wickedly. “So are you!”

You choked on your orange juice.

Ellie looked personally attacked. “I am average height, thank you very much.”

“No you’re not,” Sophie said. “You’re small. But tall enough to make waffles. So you can stay.”

Ellie whispered to you, “Thank God. I was nervous.”

You smiled, leaned against her side, and let the warmth settle.

BY midday, the apartment had transformed again.

Gone were the scattered crayons and the sticky syrup plates from breakfast. The coloring books had been cleared, the glitter wiped from the table, and now, in their place stood something far greater. A museum.

Sophie had declared it around eleven a.m., full of conviction and without warning, as she lined up every single plastic dinosaur she owned across the floor.

“This is the entrance,” she explained, gesturing at a pillow with glitter glue stains. “And only people with imagination are allowed in.”

Ellie, standing beside you with a cup of coffee and her usual half-smile, nodded solemnly. “We barely qualify.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “No phones. No snacks. No shoes. And no boring facts.”

Ellie blinked. “Wait. What?”

“No boring facts,” Sophie repeated. “You’re the tour guide, so you can say fun things. But not, like, ‘blah blah, this dinosaur was alive in this year.’ That’s boring.”

Ellie shot you a helpless look, and you smiled innocently and flopped onto the couch. “I’m just here to observe.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool,” Ellie said, clapping her hands and clearing her throat dramatically. “Welcome to the World Famous Dinosaur Museum, curated by Sophie, the most powerful four-year-old paleontologist on Earth.”

Sophie gave a tiny approving nod.

Ellie walked up to the first toy. “Here we have… the mighty Ankylosaurus, also known as the living tank. This dude had a club for a tail and armor all over his back. Total unit.”

“Wrong,” Sophie interrupted.

Ellie froze. “Uh. What?”

Sophie crossed her arms. “That’s not an Ankylosaurus. That’s a Bumpy.”

“A… what?”

“Bumpy. From the show. She’s nice and has big eyes, and she doesn’t hit people with her tail unless they’re being rude.”

“Right,” Ellie said, clearing her throat. “Of course. Bumpy. Noted.” She moved on. “And here, we have the infamous Velociraptor, known for its sharp claws, high intelligence, and hunting in coordinated packs.”

Sophie raised her hand like a teacher’s assistant. “Actually… Velociraptors were smaller. Like chickens.”

Ellie blinked. “You’re four.”

Sophie shrugged. “I have books.”

You were openly laughing now, half-curled into the couch, watching your girlfriend slowly spiral. Ellie stared down at the toy dinosaur. “Sure. Whatever you say, kid. That’s definitely a... Dino-nugget.”

Sophie giggled. “It’s okay. I forget too sometimes.”

Ellie turned to you, defeated. “She’s smarter than me.”

You grinned. “I’m weirdly attracted to it.”

She smirked, cheeks pink, and whispered, “Yeah?”

“The flustered dino tour guide thing is working for you.” Then Ellie reached out to tickle your foot. “You’re too mean! Stop!”

You yelped and kicked gently at her shin. Sophie shouted, “No violence in my museum!” and Ellie immediately stood straight, arms behind her back like a soldier caught goofing off in formation. “Apologies, Dr. Sophie,” she said. “Won’t happen again.”

“Good,” Sophie said, spinning dramatically on one socked foot. “Now it’s snack time. All museum staff must report to the kitchen immediately.”

You followed them in, Ellie trailing after with her hands still behind her back, muttering, “I didn’t go to dinosaur jail just to be bossed around by a preschooler.”

The three of you were halfway through peanut butter toast and a chaotic cup of apple juice when your door buzzed.

Sophie didn’t even flinch. “It’s Daddy,” she said, mouth full.

You opened the door, and sure enough, your brother stood there, hair windswept and eyes a little tired. His face softened the second he saw Sophie run toward him.

“Hey, Soph!” he said, catching her mid-leap.

She immediately launched into a breathless retelling of the day. “We made pancakes and Ellie did my hair, and I told her about dinosaur ghosts, and we made a museum, and she got every dinosaur wrong, but it was okay because she tried really hard!”

Ellie, still behind you with crossed arms and a red face. Your brother looked between the two of you, the toy-covered floor, the messy table, the crayon drawing Sophie had taped to the wall that read “Ellie = Cool Aunt”, and put down the toddler.

“You’ve got her wrapped around your finger,” he said to Ellie, smiling softly. “Didn’t know Sophie ever let someone else be the boss.”

Ellie shrugged, suddenly shy. “I bribed her with waffles.”

Sophie looked up. “She’s my best friend now. Don’t be jealous.”

Your brother gave you a long look. Something quiet passed between you. You kissed Sophie’s forehead, ruffled her hair, and passed her Rexy.

She hugged Ellie’s leg tightly before leaving. “Bye, Ellie!”

“Bye, kiddo.” Ellie whispered back.

Then the door clicked shut, and the apartment felt... still. Not empty. Just quiet in the way it only was after a kid left. You turned to Ellie, who was still standing in the living room, arms folded, gazing at the now-empty dinosaur museum with a look that was almost… wistful.

“She really likes you,” you said gently, walking over to her.

Ellie didn’t speak right away. Just stared at the spot where Sophie had left her sock-caped Rexy perched on a pillow like he was still standing guard. Then, she exhaled softly through her nose and said, “You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“She reminds me of you.”

You blinked. “Me?”

Ellie nodded, finally glancing over at you with a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. Bossy. Relentless. Too smart for her own good. Will bite if threatened.”

You snorted. “Oh my God.”

“I’m serious,” she said, grinning now. “She takes up space like she was born to, like she never learned how not to. You’re like that, too. You just… walk in and fill a room. And it makes it better. Brighter.”

“It’s why I fell in love with you, you know. The way you just… care. Loudly. Without apology.”

You took a step closer, touching her wrist. “I don’t always feel like I do it right.”

Ellie smiled, lacing your fingers together. “You don’t have to. You just have to do it like you.”

You stared at her for a second, heart thudding, then leaned up and kissed her slow. When you pulled back, she sighed happily. “So… museum’s closed for the day?”

You nodded. “But I hear there’s a private showing tonight. Just for dorks who are bad at braiding hair.”

Ellie smirked. “Perfect. I know a girl who fits the bill perfectly.”

And just like that, everything felt simple again. Not perfect. But real. And full of love.

Ellie having beef with a four-year-old makes so much sense to me lmao. I love them so much its unreal.

perm taglist !

@valeisaslut @firefly-ace @sevslover @twopeoplee @mayfldss @elliesfavtoy @usuck @avalovesmus1c @samcvrpenters @mars4hellokitty @prettyinpink69 @yashirawr @furtherrawayy @maximumdreamlandcoffee @elliesfavgirlfriend @abcline006 @marieeeluvsyou @smaugayra @eriiwaiii2 @d1psht @creativedespaitr @leaaavesss @yasmilks @piastorys @nemesyaaa @elliewilliamskisser2000 @mascspleasegetmepregnant @oatmatchalatte @leeidk87 @morticeras @eddiesdrummergf @vahnilla

neighbor!ellie taglist !

@alinerr @liztreez @wwefan2002 @ellielvrssss @ellieslittleslutt @elliesfavwife @uselessnewt @lvmxih

[muxshwriting]

alone together

Seth Clearwater x reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't realise his own strength. it doesn't usually bother you until you realise that he's leaving something more permanent with his hugs || warnings: bruises, being loved to death, mentions of insecurity (like one sentence), characters aged up to like 18ish || word count: 921 || masterlist

The moment Seth imprinted on you, he knew the rest of his life would be perfect. He'd heard from the others how amazing it felt to find your imprint but no one truly prepared him for when he first saw you. You'd been friends before he shifted but when he saw you again months after that, when he truly saw you, it was like nothing else in the world.

You spent almost every evening at the Clearwater's, your own parents understanding how much Seth meant to you. He quickly became your everything, your day was never good unless you saw him. And your day was never perfect until you were wrapped up in one of his hugs.

"Better?" His arms wrapped around you until they were pressing into your skin. Sometimes you needed to feel like your body wasn't yours, that you and him were one and the same so that his perfectness might rub off on you.

You hum in response, burrowing further into his neck and relishing in his warmth. The pair of you are sitting on the sofa at his house, simply taking time to be with each together without needing to do anything else. "Just a rough day."

His touch sooths you as his comforting weight around your midsection deepens and calms the feeling crawling through your chest. "You wanna talk about it?" His voice is muffled against you but the concern in it has your heart melting.

"No. It's getting better."

"Happy to help."

Almost a week later you're helping Leah bake some cookies for the pack at her house. Seth's out on patrol with a few of the other boys. You lean against the counter before going back to upright with a hiss of pain.

"You okay?"

Your eyes widen as you turn to Leah. "Yeah. It's fine."

"It doesn't sound fine."

"It's just a bruise."

Leah seems to relax that it's not serious. "Oh. How did you bruise your side? Fell off the bike or what?"

You laugh at her suggestion but don't answer the question.

"How'd you do it?"

"Um... It's from Seth."

"From my brother Seth? Your imprint? My little brother Seth?" Leah's face turned cold as her mind ran to the worst possibility.

"Not on purpose!" You're trying to reassure her but it only makes her more suspicious. "I had a rough day at work and stuff ad I just needed him to hold me. But with his wolf strength I guess he hugs a little too tight. I didn't even notice until a couple days ago."

Leah ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it slightly as she processed what she heard. "Does he know?"

"I don't want him to worry. Or not hug me because of it."

"Show me."

Slowly, you pull up the hem of your shirt, revealing the bruised and inflamed skin of your side and bottom of your ribs.

Leah has a sharp intake of breath as she sees the extent on your injury. "We might need to tell my mom about this."

You pull your shirt back down, gently wrapping your arms around you as if to shield yourself. "It's fine." You dismiss.

"It's really not." Leah argues. "Just let her check."

She's not giving in anytime soo so you concede. "Okay. But I don't think she can do anything about it. She's just gonna tell me to put a heat pack on it, which is why I have Seth."

Seth, at that very moment, comes back from patrol and waltzes in. "What do you have me for?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist. It takes everything in you to not hiss as he rests his hand on the bruise as Leah raises an eyebrow at you.

"Don't worry about it." You kiss him back, letting you senses be surrounded by him for a moment before Leah clears her throat.

"It's not nothing. Tell him."

Seth, ever oblivious, asks "Tell me what?"

You sigh, reaching for the hem of your shirt but not lifting it yet. "You know how I had a rough day last week?"

"Yeah..."

"And you hugged me really tight cos I asked you to?"

"Yeah."

"It kinda left a bruise. But it's fine! Leah's making it out to be a much bigger deal than it is and all I need is my personal hot water bottle and it'll be healed in no time." You lift the hem of your shirt to show him and Seth immediately starts fussing.

"Babe, this is a big bruise."

"It doesn't hurt that bad." Just at that moment Seth rests his hand on top and you can't stop the groan you let out. "...Only when I touch it."

"I want my mom to look at it."

"That's what I said!" Leah cried.

The two siblings started talking over one another about the best thing to do, whether they should go right now, whether you should even move or if it's best for you to go to bed. Their voices grew louder than just talking and you felt yourself shrinking back from them.

"I'm sorry."

Seth's mood immediately charges as he cups your face. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, okay? I'm sorry I did this to you."

"I don't want you to be sorry."

"Why don't we just go upstairs and cuddle, yeah? More gently this time."

You nod in response.

"Mom can have a look later. Let's just do nothing."

"Do nothing together?"

"Of course."

[thelast0fme]

Warm Whiskey and Calloused ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Hands

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | Smut | Age Gap | Alcohol Consumption | Rough Sex | Dirty Talk | Praise Kink | Slight Degradation | Unprotected Sex | Creampie | Overstimulation | Soft Aftercare | If I missed any let me know!

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: This is my first one shot so keep that in mind when reading!

Joel was making sure everything was in order when the doorbell rang. He let out a small sigh, rubbing a hand over his beard before making his way over. Opening the door, he found you standing there—a good-looking woman, no doubt. His friends had called you hot, but that never seemed right. Gorgeous, though? Yeah, that fit better.

"Mr. Miller?" you asked, your voice smooth but polite.

"Just Joel’s fine," he said with a small chuckle. "‘Mr. Miller’ makes me sound older than I care for."

That got a smile out of you, and he caught himself staring a second longer than he should have.

"Alright then, Joel," you grinned.

Stepping aside, he motioned for you to come in. You walked past, and he couldn’t help but notice the easy confidence in your stride. He had to admit, for all the babysitters Sarah had burned through, you were certainly the most put-together.

"Alright, so here’s the deal," Joel started, crossing his arms. "I probably won’t be back ‘til ‘round midnight. You sure you’re good with that? Bein’ your first time watchin’ Sarah and all."

You met his gaze without hesitation, giving him a warm smile. "Yep. Can’t be too bad."

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. "Famous last words."

"So, how long you been doin’ this babysittin’ thing?" Joel asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. His voice was casual, but there was that usual hint of skepticism, like he was sizing you up.

You tilted your head, thinking. "Since I turned eighteen. So… about six years now?"

He gave a small nod, eyes studying you for a beat. "Huh. Guess that’s long enough to know what you’re doin’."

A smirk tugged at your lips. "You havin’ second thoughts, Miller?"

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Nah. Just gotta make sure my kid’s in good hands, is all."

"She is, I promise," you said with a warm smile.

Joel studied you for a moment, his gaze steady, unreadable. Then, with a small exhale, he nodded.

"Alright," he muttered. "Guess we’ll see."

"Well, I best get goin’. My brother Tommy’s waitin’ at the site," Joel said, grabbing his keys off the counter.

"Site?" you asked, curiosity piqued. "You do construction or somethin’?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Own a construction business with Tommy."

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. "Didn’t peg you for a business owner."

Joel smirked, tucking his keys into his pocket. "Yeah, well… gotta pay the bills somehow."

You nodded, tucking your hands into your pockets. "Hard work, huh?"

He glanced at you, smirking. "Somethin’ like that."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable—just a quiet moment where Joel seemed to take your measure one last time. Then he nodded, as if settling something in his mind. "Alright. Sarah’s upstairs, probably readin’ or listenin’ to music. She knows the rules, but you might have to remind her bedtime means actual sleep."

You grinned. "I think I can handle that."

"We’ll see," he muttered, amusement flickering behind his eyes. He reached for the door, pausing before pulling it open. "Oh, and uh… she’s got a habit of sneakin’ snacks when she thinks nobody’s watchin’. So if she tries to tell you I let her eat cookies before bed? She’s full of it."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "Got it. No midnight cookie runs."

Joel gave you a lingering look, something unreadable behind the rough edges of his expression. He didn’t trust easy—years of hard living had seen to that—but there was something about the way you carried yourself that settled some of his usual worry.

"Alright," he finally said, opening the door. "See you at midnight."

And with that, he stepped out into the night, leaving you standing in his home, a warm smirk still tugging at your lips.

A few hours had gone by without you seeing Sarah, so you decided to go upstairs and introduce yourself. You walked up the stairs to her room and knocked.

"Come in!" You heard Sarah shout from the other side.

You turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping inside to find her sprawled on her bed, flipping through the pages of a teen magazine. The glow of a small bedside lamp illuminated the room, posters of musicians and movie stars covering the walls. A pair of headphones rested around her neck, music faintly playing from them.

Sarah glanced up at you, curiosity flashing in her eyes before she set the magazine down. "Hey," she greeted casually, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You’re the new babysitter, right?"

You nodded with a friendly smile. "Yep, that’s me. Figured I should come up and say hi since we’re stuck with each other for the night."

"So, what’s your deal? You gonna be one of those ‘no fun allowed’ babysitters, or are you cool?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Guess you’ll just have to wait and see."

Sarah grinned, clearly intrigued. "Alright, game on."

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

Joel came home late that night, exhaustion weighing on him like a heavy coat. The house was quiet—Sarah had already gone to bed, leaving only the low murmur of the TV as background noise. As he stepped inside, shutting the door with a quiet click, he glanced over to see you curled up on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of the screen.

You looked over at him, offering a small smile. “Hey, Joel.”

He let out a tired exhale, running a hand through his hair before dropping his keys onto the table with a familiar clatter. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough with fatigue. He took a moment to shrug off his jacket, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake off the weight of the day.

For a while, you just talked—small things, casual conversation that filled the silence of the house. He told you about his day, how work had been long, how Tommy had nearly taken a chunk out of his hand with a power tool. You laughed, and he smirked, shaking his head.

Eventually, you stretched, shifting to sit up. “I should probably head out,” you said, glancing at the clock.

Joel looked at you then—really looked at you—before he let out a quiet sigh and rubbed at his beard. His gaze lingered, like he was weighing something in his mind. Then, just as you were about to stand, he spoke.

“You want a drink before you go?” His tone was casual, but there was something else in it, something a little softer, like he wasn’t quite ready for the night to be over just yet.

You hesitated, then met his gaze with a small, knowing smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Joel nodded, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. “Good,” he said simply, heading toward the kitchen. “Hope you ain’t picky.”

Joel set the bottle on the counter with a quiet clink, pouring another round with the easy familiarity of a man who’d done this plenty of times before. You stood next to him, the warmth of the liquor settling in your veins, making the edges of the night a little softer, a little looser.

Somewhere between the first drink and the third, the conversation had shifted from small talk to something else—something that had both of you laughing more than you probably should have been.

“You serious?” Joel asked, shaking his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I swear,” you giggled, taking another sip. “I really thought I could fix the sink myself. Turns out, YouTube tutorials don’t cover everything.”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “See, that’s your first mistake. You trust the internet too much.”

You laughed, warmth curling in your chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. The night felt different now, charged with something unspoken. His eyes lingered on you a little longer, the space between you feeling smaller.

Joel sighed, running a hand over his beard before glancing at the near-empty bottle between you. “Think we might’ve overdone it,” he muttered, amusement flickering in his voice.

You leaned back, stretching your arms over your head with a lazy grin. “You saying you can’t handle your liquor, Mr. Miller?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m sayin’ if I wake up with a headache, I’m blamin’ you.”

“You’re the one who offered the drink,” you shot back.

A beat of silence hung between you, charged in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You were close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, close enough to see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. His gaze dropped to your lips again, and this time, neither of you pulled away.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you, leaning in as he did the same. The kiss was slow at first, a tentative exploration. Then, the alcohol took hold, and the kiss deepened, a mix of need and desire that neither of you had expected, but both of you had been too caught up in the moment to deny.

As the kiss deepened, Joel's large hands gripped your hips, pulling you tightly against him with a low, guttural groan. The warmth of his body, the solid strength of him, sent electric shivers down your spine. His fingertips dug in just enough to make your breath hitch, igniting a desperate need that curled low in your stomach.

He moved with slow, deliberate intent, guiding you backward until the edge of the kitchen counter pressed into the small of your back. His lips never left yours, devouring every gasp and whimper as his body caged you in. Then, with a teasing slowness, he trailed hot kisses down your jaw, lingering at the pulse point on your neck. His breath, ragged and heated, fanned against your skin as he sucked lightly, his tongue soothing the spot a second later.

"Goddamn," he muttered against your throat, his voice rough with want. One calloused hand slid beneath your shirt, fingertips tracing lazy circles along your spine before splaying wide against the bare skin of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. The friction between you sent a jolt of pleasure through your core, making your fingers tighten in his hair.

"Joel," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper. His name was a plea, a surrender, a need you couldn't contain.

His hips pressed insistently against yours, the undeniable evidence of his desire making heat pool low in your belly. But as his hand began to wander lower, the hazy fog of passion was interrupted by a single thought—Sarah.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, tugging slightly as you tried to catch your breath. "Shouldn't we go upstairs?" you murmured, voice shaky but insistent. "Sarah could wake up and come downstairs."

Joel stilled for half a second, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he exhaled sharply. Then, with a chuckle, low and wrecked, he pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips. "Yeah," he rasped, voice thick with restraint. "You're right."

But as he stepped back, his dark, heated gaze locked onto yours, promising that this was far from over.

"Let's go."

As Joel took your hand, leading you toward the stairs, his grip was firm, his body still radiating heat from the moment you shared. Each step felt heavier, anticipation thrumming between you. The house was quiet except for the occasional creak of the wooden stairs beneath your feet, the air thick with unsaid words and lingering desire.

When you reached his bedroom, Joel pushed the door shut behind you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. He stepped closer, hands finding your waist again, thumbs brushing slow circles against your skin.

But before he could kiss you again, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze with something teasing and sharp. "You sleep with all your babysitters?"

The question made him pause for a beat, then his lips quirked into that signature smirk, half amused, half dangerous. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as his fingers tightened at your waist. "Nah," he said, voice deep and rough. "Just the ones I can't stop thinkin' about."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, but before you could react, he closed the distance, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, one that left no room for doubt—this was different. You were different.

And neither of you had any intention of stopping now.

With a possessive hunger, Joel claimed your mouth, his lips demanding, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with yours in a kiss that left no room for breath. His calloused hands gripped your waist, rough fingertips digging into your skin as he pulled you flush against him. You felt the hard press of him against your stomach, his body heat searing through his jeans. With a low grunt, he slid his hands down to your backside, squeezing firmly before hoisting you up with ease.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the bed, your dress riding up your thighs, lace panties on full display. Joel’s gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you sprawled across his bed. His chest rose and fell heavily, his fingers already pushing the fabric of your dress higher, exposing more of you to his hungry eyes.

“Damn,” he rasped, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Look at you.”

He climbed onto the bed, bracing himself over you on his forearms. His lips ghosted over your jaw, your throat, his scruff scraping against your skin. You shivered at the feeling, at the deep, gravelly murmur of his voice against your ear.

“You wear this for me?” His fingers trailed over the lace of your panties before dipping lower, teasing at the wetness already pooling between your thighs. “Knew what you were doin’, didn’t you? Dressin’ up all pretty, lettin’ me see just how bad you want it.”

A rough hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with raw hunger. “You want this?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” His lips curled into a smirk before he tugged your dress up and over your head, tossing it aside. His heated gaze roamed over your nearly bare body, lingering on the black lace barely covering you. “Jesus Christ.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your thighs at an agonizing pace. When you were fully bared beneath him, Joel let out a low, appreciative growl. He reached down, palming the bulge straining against his jeans.

“Spread those legs for me, baby.”

You obeyed, and he groaned at the sight of you, dragging a hand through his hair like he was barely holding himself back. He made quick work of his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping before shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself. His cock stood thick and heavy in his hand, and he stroked himself once, twice, eyes fixed on the slick heat between your thighs.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Gonna ruin you.”

He moved in, positioning himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness before pressing forward, the stretch forcing a gasp from your lips. Joel’s jaw clenched, his fingers gripping your thighs as he sank in inch by inch.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he gritted out, pausing to let you adjust. “So fuckin’ tight.”

You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. That was all the encouragement he needed. He drew back and thrust forward hard, knocking the breath from your lung.

The pace he set was brutal, deep and unrelenting. Every powerful snap of his hips drove him to the hilt, filling you completely. Joel’s hands slid beneath your knees, hiking your legs higher, letting him sink even deeper.

“Fuck—there,” you gasped, your back arching.

Joel smirked, sweat beading along his forehead. “Yeah? That’s the spot?”

His thrusts became merciless, driving into you at just the right angle, over and over until you were trembling beneath him, until you could feel yourself falling apart.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice rough with effort. “Wanna see that pretty face when you come on my cock.”

Your release slammed into you hard, your body clenching around him as you cried out. Joel groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he fucked you through it, chasing his own end. A few more deep, punishing thrusts, and he was right there with you, spilling deep inside with a guttural moan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing. Joel pressed his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. Slowly, he pulled out, his spend dripping from your wrecked pussy. He groaned at the sight, dragging his fingers through the mess before bringing them to your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Joel cursed under his breath, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle. “You’re somethin’ else, darlin’.”

You exhaled a shaky laugh. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Joel smirked, brushing a hand down your thigh, tracing the marks he’d left behind. “Think you can walk after that?”

You started to sit up, but your legs felt like jelly. “Might need a minute.”

He chuckled as you stood, your legs unsteady.

You met his gaze. “I should call an Uber—”

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm.

Before you could protest, he rose from the bed, pulling you into his embrace. He tucked you beneath his chin, his body still radiating warmth. His hand moved in slow, lazy circles over your back—grounding, soothing.

“Ain’t lettin’ you go just yet,” he whispered.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you melted into him. Maybe, just for tonight, you’d stay.

[kxsagi]

Hi I loved the fic with their child loving their plush while they were gone, can u make a similar one but this time the reader crochet a small plush of the boys on their own but the boys didn't knew that threw it the dustbin cause they were jealous of it?

I wanna see their reaction when the reader finds their plush in dustbin saying they made it themselves!

“𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲"

a/n: I LOVE CROCHET PLUSHIES (i unfortunately don't crochet but i'd love to pick it up as a hobby) AND IF SOMEONE THREW MINE AWAY I WOULD CRY

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, ness alexis, itoshi sae

isagi yoichi

when he first saw the little crochet plush, he deadass thought it was a gift from another guy. 

like. it's suspiciously cute. it's wearing a mini scarf. it even has his ahoge??? 

his insecure king brain: who tf is crocheting detailed plushies of me and giving them to my girlfriend. 

he tosses it into the bin while acting chill, but the way he’s side-eyeing the trash can every five seconds??? not convincing. 

then you walk into the room with a proud smile like, “i finished it!! oh wait, where’s the little guy?” 

silence. 

isagi: sweating profusely “... what little guy.” 

the moment you start pulling out the half-buried plush with that little "i spent a week making this for you" voice?? 

he folds. immediately. 

“i thought some other guy gave it to you!! i didn’t know it was a love child made of yarn and affection, i’m sorry 😭” 

spends the next three hours trying to learn to crochet so he can make you a janky blob with a smiley face on it. 

holds the plush like it’s his child. will bite anyone who jokes about it now. 

itoshi rin

sees it on your desk and thinks it looks... way too detailed. 

it’s got his little annoyed eyebrows, his blue hoodie, and it's so well-done it lowkey pisses him off. 

“why would someone spend this much effort on me? who gave this to her?” 

you weren’t home, so he silently chucks it in the bin. 

you come in with your yarn bag like “i made cookies and also finished sewing rin’s angry little face :)” 

you turn. you see the trash. you go, “uh. baby??” 

rin.exe crashes. 

“wait. YOU made that?” 

goes dead silent, literally just stares at the wall. 

“i thought someone was trying to flirt with you. i didn’t mean to throw you in the garbage. i mean– not YOU– the little me. the yarn me. fuck–” 

apologizes so bluntly it sounds like he’s being held hostage. “i’m sorry. i fucked up. i like the doll. please make another one. or stab me. whatever.” 

will now sleep with it tucked behind his pillow, secretly. 

kaiser michael

the moment he sees a plushie of himself, his ego is activated. 

but then he notices it's adorable. it has little blushed cheeks. it’s soft and sweet and gentle. 

that’s not how he views himself. and worse, it’s sitting beside you while he’s not. 

tosses it into the bin with a dramatic smirk and a bitter little “hmph. looks nothing like me anyway.” 

then you come in all sunshiney like “i finished your plush! isn’t he cute?” 

you look around. see it in the trash. 

the way your face falls? 

kaiser panics. instantly. 

“WAIT WAIT WAIT I THOUGHT IT WAS A CURSE DOLL OR SOMETHING I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT YOU” 

you: “i spent 10 hours just trying to figure out how to do your stupid smirk 😐” 

he’s hugging you so fast. “okay okay okay okay I GET IT I’M A TRASH MAN. PLEASE MAKE ANOTHER I’LL NEVER THROW MYSELF AWAY AGAIN!!!” 

tries to bribe you with yarn store credit and back kisses. 

nagi seishiro

didn’t mean to throw it away. 

genuinely thought it was a weird dust ball or maybe a snack. 

half-asleep nagi logic: “soft weird thing in my spot = bin.” 

you come in holding your yarn bag and go, “hey babe, have you seen the plush i made of you?” 

and he’s like: “huh?” 

you: holding up the trash lid “nagiiiiii!!!” 

him: looks down sees the crochet plush laying face-down in a pizza crust. 

“oh... that was you?” 

tries to make it up to you by letting you use his chest as a yarn table for the rest of the day. 

doesn’t even care if the yarn tangles around his neck, he just lies there like “do what you want. i’m garbage. make a plush of garbage me.” 

now carries your plush around in his hoodie pocket like it’s a living being. 

mikage reo

gets insanely jealous because he thinks someone else made you a plush version of him as a flirt tactic. 

doesn’t want to seem petty so he throws it away in the outside bin like a passive aggressive king. 

then you walk in with sparkly eyes and go “i crocheted something special for you 🧶💕” 

reo: “cool! what is i– WAIT NO.” 

runs outside in socks, actually dives into the bin like a madman. 

brings it back covered in leaves like “I FOUND HIM. MY SON. I’M SORRY I THREW YOU AWAY.” 

now commissions a glass case for it. 

makes you teach him crochet. gets frustrated in five minutes and just says “i’ll buy you more yarn. you be the cute one in the relationship.” 

shidou ryusei

throws it away on purpose because he’s unhinged and territorial. 

“wtf is this. who’s making voodoo plushies of me. is there a love curse on this thing???” 

hurls it in the trash like it personally insulted him. 

then you walk in like “isn’t it cute? i finally figured out how to crochet your eyeliner :D” 

“… you made that?” 

sudden shift. picks it up out of the trash and kisses it. 

“heeyyy sorry little me. papa didn’t know you were a homemade baby~” 

you: “i spent three nights learning magic loop just for your abs.” 

him: “i’ll never betray you again. i’ll name him mini-shidou. i’ll build him a tiny motorcycle. i’ll make him fight other plushies.” 

scarily attached now. probably threatens his teammates with it. “mini-me says die, bitch.” 

karasu tabito

sees the plush, thinks it’s a gift from a fan or something. 

feels kinda weird that you kept it, so he casually tosses it behind the couch (he meant to just hide it... the trash thing happened by accident okay). 

you walk in like, “i made a plush of you!” 

karasu: “... of me?” 

you: “yeah! he’s got your scowl and everything 😚” 

suddenly he’s diving for the trash like it’s the end of mission impossible. 

“BABE I DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS HOMEMADE I SWEAR I THOUGHT SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO MANIFEST ME WITH YARN.” 

clutches the plush like he’s been shot. 

now calls it “tabito jr.” and makes it talk in a deep little voice like “papa loves you 😍” 

makes dumb voiceover videos with it. yes he’s obsessed now. 

ness alexis

at first, he’s all smiley and calm when he sees the plush on your desk. 

like “aww… that’s cute… :)” but his smile drops when he realizes someone else must have given it to you. 

his eye twitches. someone??? not him?? that little plush is dead. 

he calmly throws it away when you're not looking, still smiling. he even pats the trash can gently. 

then you walk in later like “i finally finished the mini-you ~ i gave it your bowtie and everything 😚” 

ness: smile drops again like a curtain falling. 

“… you made that?? yourself?” 

starts gaslighting himself for being trash. “i threw your love in the garbage. i’m worse than filth. i deserve to live inside the trash can. no, i am the trash can.” 

he pulls out the plush, dusts it off like it’s a royal heirloom, kisses its little forehead, and then proceeds to cradle it like a baby. 

the next day, he makes you a matching plush of yourself (it’s hideous, but he tried) and says “now we can be together even when we’re apart 🥰” 

itoshi sae

sees the plush one day when you’re out and squints. “what the hell is that.” 

it looks like him. it’s nonchalant like him. it’s wearing a little red jersey like him. 

his ego says “obviously someone is obsessed with me.” 

but his boyfriend instincts are SCREAMING. 

he throws it out without a second thought, muttering “creepy stalker shit. people are weird.” 

you come home with sparkly eyes like “i crocheted your plush!! i even added your sleepy face when you nap on my lap–” 

sae: silence. 

you see the empty desk. 

“... where’s the plush? i swear it was right here.” 

he doesn’t even lie. “i threw it out. thought it was from a fan. or like. a weird shrine girl.” 

your face drops. his soul leaves his body. 

“... you made it? with your hands? for me?” 

full regret mode activated. 

gets up. walks out the door. digs through the trash with his bare hands. 

comes back and says, “if you don’t make me another one, i’ll never emotionally recover.” 

now the plush lives on his nightstand. he doesn’t talk about it, but if it’s missing? he will interrogate the whole house. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[petalbcrnes]

CUTE ASSISTANT ╱ with JASON TODD ꩜ .ᐟ ⠀⠀ ────⠀⠀⠀ in which jason tries to steal a bite while you are cooking.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

It’s the faint sound of your soft voice humming that catches his attention first. His ears perk up, and he turns his head toward the sound. Then, the faint smell of warm chocolate fills his nose. You must be baking.

He shuffles off the couch, abandoning whatever had his attention moments before. Entering the kitchen, he finds you mindlessly dancing to a silly tune stuck in your head. You don’t even notice him slowly approaching from behind until he speaks.

“What’s that you’re making?” He wraps his hands around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

His sudden appearance startles you, eliciting a small yelp. He gives you a quick apology before reaching forward to the chocolate batter.

You shoo his hand away. “I’m making chocolate chip cookies, but—” you continue, moving the batter out of his reach, “—it’s unfortunately not for you, Jay.”

He fakes shock, placing his hand dramatically over his heart. “Not for me? For whom then?”

You playfully roll your eyes while stirring the batter. “It’s for Alfred. After you delivered his cookies home, I realized I need to step up my game.”

You taste the chocolate, savoring the flavor melting on your tongue.

“And, on top of that, tasting Alfred’s magnificent cookies,” the corners of your smile curl upwards, “has made me think about something.”

Jason’s eyes remain fixed on the chocolate batter. “Made you think about what?”

“When he’s baking, do you hang around the kitchen trying to sneak a taste, just like you’re doing now?” You offer him a bit of batter, only to pull it back at the last second. “Nope, not yet. It’s not ready.”

He whines. “I help, I just—...”

You raise an eyebrow playfully, and he relents.

“Okay, fine. You got me. But I want to help now. C’mon, give me something to do.”

“Taste the batter for me, actually. I can’t tell if it needs more sugar.” You furrow your eyebrows in consideration, something he finds adorable.

“My pleasure.”

He takes a small taste and ponders it for a moment, not noticing the batter staining the corner of his mouth.

“You have a little—...” You point to the stain, gesturing for him to clean it. He tilts his head, confused.

You giggle before wiping the stain off with your finger. “You’re lucky you’re a cute assistant, or you’d be thrown out of the kitchen.”

Jason’s cheeks are dusted a light pink. “More sugar, yeah, definitely more,” He moves to grab sugar from the counter and hands it to you, his teal eyes darting around the kitchen.

When was the last time he was referred to as cute? Someone like him addressed with sweet words. He almost can’t believe it. He can’t believe how sweet you are to him. The thought makes him feel giddy, like a young boy again.

You giggle again, the sound music to his ears. “Jason, sunshine, that’s salt.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” You smile at him, kissing his cheek. “Like I said, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

directory ⋆˚꩜ rules !

INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

✶⋆.© 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent.

[lowrisemiller]

ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ⋆.˚ 🧺

a joel miller one-shot—> masterlist | part two

word count 5.3k |🍪| warnings teasing, makin out, desperate old man joel, beggin, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex & multiple orgasms

You moved to Jackson a few months back, right next to Joel. Tommy introduced the two of you, and initially, you believed he didn't have a liking for you, but that was far from the reality.

Despite your youthful nature, he viewed you as incredibly sweet. However, he was uncertain if his feelings for you were romantic. You are the beautiful girl of his dreams who carries the scent of vanilla and sugar.

It was a warm Saturday morning, around 10 am, when you came over. He was seated on his porch, relishing the cool breeze while he played a few chords on his guitar. He only glanced up when he heard your footsteps, beaming as he noticed what you were carrying in your hands, cookies. You consistently baked sweet treats, and every time, you offered them to him

You approached him.

“Hi joel, I made cookies. You want some?”

Joel smiles, nodding. He sets down his guitar, “Of course, doll.” He says warmly as he pats the empty space next to him. “C'mere.”

You handed him the tray of cookies and took the place next to him.

Joel looks over the cookies, taking one and tasting it. He lets out a soft groan as the delicious flavor hits his taste buds, “Mmm, good as usual, sweetheart. You make the best damn cookies.”

“Aw you’re just sayin that.” You tried and failed to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, taking another cookie, “No, I'm really not.” He says as he glances over your small frame.

You're so small compared to him, and his mind started to wander. His gaze softens as he thinks about you. He shakes his head, quickly trying to push away those thoughts, before returning his attention back to you. He takes another bite of the cookie

“So, what are ya doin' today, hm?”

“Just bakin i guess, do you have plans today?”

Joel shakes his head, taking another cookie from the tray and taking a bite. He mumbles a gentle “thank you” to you as he chews. He swallows and brushes the crumbs from his hands. “Not really.” He says as he leans back slightly in the chair.

“I was just gonna take it easy, hang out.” He eyes you up and down, you're wearing just sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his attention lingering for just a millisecond on how the fabric hugs your curves.

“Hmm, Ellie not around today?” You asked him.

Joel is snapped out of his little staring contest when you mention Ellie. He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face.

“No, she's off on patrol today. The kid's gotta learn sometime.” He leans back in the chair, his gaze returning to you.

“Why? You wanna spend time with me?” He says with a playful smirk.

“Hm and what if I do?” You tilted your head and looked at him.

Joel laughs, raising an eyebrow at your reply. He leans closer to you, his voice dropping to a slightly lower tone.

“Well, doll, if you want to spend time with me, I certainly won't protest. I rather like your company.”

You giggled. “you just like me for my treats.”

Joel laughs softly again, shaking his head. He reaches out, resting his hand on your thigh. It was almost... possessive. He gives it a small squeeze.

“That's not true, doll. I like more than just your treats. I like your sweet little self too.”

Your blushed as you looked down at Joel’s hand squeezing on your thigh

“you think im sweet?”

Joel looks down at you, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks. The sight alone makes his heart skip a beat. He squeezes your thigh gently again, his fingers rubbing small circles.

“Of course I do doll. In fact, I think you're the sweetest thing in this whole damn town.”

Joel can see how flustered you are under his gaze, and a part of him enjoys it. His hand continues to rubs your thigh in slow, firm circles.

“You gotta stop blushing every time I say something sweet to ya, doll. Don’t wanna make my ego bigger than it already is.”

He jokes, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I- it’s just- sorry I don’t get compliments like that a lot”

Joel’s smirk softens into a gentle smile. He can tell you’re feeling a little insecure about yourself.

“Hey, don't apologize.” He says softly, his hand now gently cupping your chin, tilting your head up. “You deserve all the compliments in the world, sweetheart. You're beautiful and deserve everything good that comes, ya hear me?”

“O-okay yeah, thank you joel”

You cursed yourself mentally for stuttering so much.

Joel smiles warmly. He loved the way you said his name. It sent a pang through his chest.

“Of course, doll. Ya don't gotta thank me for that.”

His hand moves from your chin to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb back and forth. He's amazed by how warm you are, you're so soft and sweet and young—

He quickly cuts off that train of thought, shaking his head slightly.

You leaned into his touch.

Joel's heart nearly stops at the sight of you leaning into his hand. His thumb continues to gently brush your cheek, and he can't help but think how cute you are. You're like a little doll. His little doll.

He clears his throat, trying to focus on something other than the thought of you and the fact that you're so close.

“So, uh... those cookies are really good.” He says with a slight chuckle.

“Thank you!”

Joel chuckles, “You're welcome, sweetheart. Ya could open up a bakery in the settlement if you wanted.”

He gently pats your thigh before taking his hand away. There's just the slightest hint of reluctance in the action, like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

“Tommy mentioned something like that it’s just seems like a lot of work ya know and there’s limited supplies…”

Joel nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. Running a bakery is a lot of work, and ingredients are hard to come by.”

He looks at you, his gaze softened.

“But if anyone could do it, I bet you could, doll. You're a damn good cook.”

“Aw well thanks again Joel,” I smiled and blushed…again.

Joel smiles, feeling a warm feeling in his chest at the sight of you being so flattered by his compliments. He wants to give you more, to see you all blushing and shy, but he holds back.

“Of course, doll. It's the truth.”

… he wanted to keep you here, talking with him. He couldn't get enough of looking at you.

“So um any recommendations on what I should make next?” You asked hoping to change the subject.

Joel pretends to think for a moment. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he wanted you to keep making things for him.

“Hmmm...” He feigns contemplation before smiling at you. “... how about some apple pie?"

“Oh my gosh that’s genius, as soon as the apples start comin in season from the greenhouse I’ll start.”

Joel's smile widened even more at your words.

“Yeah? I love apple pie.” He says, nodding.

“Can't wait to try some.” He pats your thigh again before taking another cookie, his hand lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

“Mhm, I’ll start saving ingredients for it”

“Good girl.” Joel says, the words slipping out almost automatically. He clears his throat, quickly correcting himself.

“I mean.... sounds good, doll.”

You caught it though you blushed and squeezed it so subtly your thighs together

Joel notices the subtle movement and your blushing. He has to hold back a smirk, he's loving every moment of this. Your little reaction... he wants to see more of that.

He leans a little closer to you, his hand still on your thigh.

“Ya alright, doll?” He says with a slight smirk.

“Mhm— yeah” you said quickly.

“You sure?” He says, the smirk growing wider. He knows he's teasing you, but he can't help himself. You're just so cute when you're all flustered like this.

His hand starts brushing circles on your thigh again, getting closer to your inner thighs.

“I-I’m all good Joel.”

“You sure look a little... red in the face.” He says, his voice lowering again. His hand is lightly stroking the fabric of your sweatpants, getting closer and closer to your inner thighs. He's testing the waters, pushing just enough to see how you'd react.

“Think it’s just the weather ya know” wow. Great answer.

“Mhm... definitely.”

Joel's gaze is fixed on you, watching how you're biting your lip and shifting a little in your seat. He can't help but tease you more, his hand inching even closer to your inner thighs. His thumb is mere centimeters away from touching the sensitive flesh there.

“You sure you're not... a bit hot, doll?”

I felt all my dignity dissipating.

“Mhm…maybe a little.”

Joel can't help it anymore. Your little reactions and flushed face is driving him wild, and the thought of you being hot and breathless is getting to him.

“Oh yeah? You feel a little hot, doll?”

He asks almost teasingly. He's now fully pressing his palm against your inner thigh, his thumb grazing over the fabric of your sweatpants.

“J-Joel…” you said almost as if you were out of breath.

Joel leans a little closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. He's enjoying himself too much now, he can't help it. You're just so damn cute, and he wants to see how far he can take it before you break.

“Mhm? What is it, doll?”

“Mm maybe I’m feelin a little hot.” Lying straight through your teeth.

Joel lets out a low chuckle, his hand squeezing your inner thigh again. He's so close to you now, his face is only inches from yours.

“Is that so, doll? You're all hot and bothered out here on my porch?”

You nodded slowly.

Joel leans in even closer, until his mouth is right next to your ear. His hand is still on your thigh, rubbing slowly.

“You know, if you're feeling hot and bothered... there's other ways to cool down.” He says, his voice deep and low. He knows exactly what he's implying, but he wants to hear you say it.

“P-Please.”

Joel's eyes widen slightly, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He wasn't expecting you to be this... desperate. It takes everything in him to not just take you here and now.

“Please... what?” He breathes out, his warm breath fanning across your ear.

“P-Please help me…cool down.”

Joel almost groans at your words. He can barely control himself anymore. He wants you so badly, but still manages to keep a hold on himself. Just barely.

“Mmm... and how exactly do you want me to help you, doll?”

“Just— just do anythin.” You pleaded.

Joel can't hold back any longer. He wants you too badly. Your words and your responses are driving him wild.

“Anything? You sure about that, doll?”

Without any warning, he pulls you onto his lap with effortless speed. He positions you so you're straddling him, your thighs on either side of his hips. His hands go to your waist, holding you tightly against him.

“S-Shouldn’t we go inside?”

Joel smirks, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. His head is mere inches from yours, his eyes staring into yours.

“Why? Scared someone will see doll?” He teases, his voice a low growl.

You nodded a little too quickly.

Joel just chuckles at your response. He finds it so damn cute how nervous you are about being seen. But he can't blame you, you're a sweet, innocent thing and he's well... him.

“Don't worry, doll. I ain't gonna let anyone see you like this.” He says as his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping them tightly.

“Mhm okay.”

Joel's hands grip your thighs even tighter. He can't get enough of your skin. It's so soft and warm. He wants to taste you, to take all of you, but he manages to hold back.

“You're all mine right now, doll. No one else is gonna see you but me.” His words are possessive, almost like a claim.

“Mhm m’yours,” you drawled out.

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words. There's something about you saying that you're his that just sets something off in him.

“That's right, doll. You're mine, and only mine.”

He pulls you closer, so close that you're practically flush against his chest. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and he's fighting every instinct to not just push you down and take you right then and there.

Joel can feel his self-control slipping away with each passing second. You're so close now, and the scent of your hair is driving him insane. He wants more, he needs more. He lowers his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his mouth brushing and grazing over your skin.

“You smell so damn good, doll.”

A pathetic whine left you at the simple praise.

“L-Lara found some perfume out on patrol and she gave it t’me. Wore it just for you.” You confessed shyly.

Joel groans at your words. Hearing you say that you wore perfume for him, just for him, makes his head spin. He's getting more and more addicted to you, your taste, your smell, everything.

“Oh yeah, doll? You wore it just for me?”

He breathes in deeply, taking in the sweet fragrance of the perfume, and the more he does, the more he wants to devour you whole.

“Mhm,” you hummed.

Joel starts pressing gentle kisses to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Your scent is driving him crazy, he wants to mark you up and make you his. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“God, doll, you have no idea what you're doin' to me.”

You felt it.

Joel's hands start roaming over your body, touching every inch of you. His lips continue to explore your neck, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses on your skin.

“You're so damn beautiful, doll." He says between kisses. “So damn sweet. All mine.”

“Mhm J-Joel?”

Joel's lost in a trance, his mind consumed by you. He can barely think straight anymore.

“Yeah, doll?”

He's still trailing kisses across your neck, his tongue occasionally tracing your skin. His hands are roaming over your thighs, gripping and squeezing them just enough to make you squirm in his lap.

“C-Can you kiss me please?,” you couldn’t get this far without knowing what his lips felt like on yours.

Joel freezes for a split second at your words. You're just so... innocent and sweet. And he can't deny your request. Not anymore.

He slowly lifts his head, moving his gaze to your face. Your flushed cheeks, your wide-eyed look, and that damn lip you're biting makes his heart stop. Without another word, he cups your chin, tilting your head up, bringing your face closer to his.

“Course I can, doll.” He whispers before pressing his lips against yours.

The moment Joel kisses you, it's like electricity shoots through his body. Your lips are just as soft as he expected, maybe even softer. He can't help but let out a low moan at the contact, pulling you even closer to him.

He kisses you hungrily, desperately, consuming your every whimper and gasp. His one hand moves to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

“mm Joel”, you moaned into his mouth.

Joel growls softly at the sound of his name coming from your lips. It sounds so damn good, and he wants to hear it again and again. He continues to devour your mouth, his kisses growing more intense, more possessive.

“S-say it again, doll. Say my name.” He whispers against your lips, his hand gripping your waist tightly.

“Ah- Joel.”

Joel's grip tightens as he hears you moan out his name again. He wants to hear you panting, gasping, whimpering his name over and over again.

“F-fuck, doll. You sound so good when you say my name.” He growls.

He starts trailing kisses down your jawline, his lips skimming over your pulse point, tasting your skin, wanting to mark you. His other hand has a vice-like grip on your hip, keeping you seated right on his lap.

You held him there by gently holding the back of his neck.

Joel shivers at the feel of your hand on the back of his neck. It's such a simple touch, but it feels so damn intimate. He can't help but lean into it, his body craving your touch.

He lets out another low moan before he starts kissing your neck again, his mouth moving down, leaving a line of kisses over your exposed collarbone. His hand on your hip starts roaming over your body, tracing over your curves and squeezing at your flesh.

He pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours, he looks at you with lust-filled eyes. Your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, you just look so damn adorable. So damn sweet.

“You're so damn pretty, doll. So damn sweet.” He says, his voice low and ragged. He can't get a enough of you. He can't get enough of the way you squirm in his lap, the way you whimper his name, the way you look at him...

“Joel… I want you”, I confessed shyly.

Joel's breath hitches at your words. He can't help but feel a surge of desire run through him. He wants you too. So bad. But he still holds back, just barely.

“You don't know what you're asking for, doll.” He says, his voice thick with need. His hands are gripping your thighs tight, as if he's afraid you're going to disappear at any moment.

“I-I do. I swear Joel.”

Joel can see the determination in your eyes. You want him just as badly as he wants you. And he can't hold back anymore.

“Are you sure, doll? Because... once I have you, there ain't no going back.” He says, his voice gruff with need. His hands are now roaming over your body, wanting to touch every inch of you.

“I’m sure Joel, always have been.” You whispered the last part.

He heard it.

Joel lets out a guttural moan at your words. Everything in him is telling him he needs to have you, right then and there. Your words pushed him over the edge. He pulls you flush against him, his hands gripping your waist tightly, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“God, doll, you have no idea... how badly I've wanted this. Wanted you.” He growls, his voice shaking with desire.

“Y-You’ve wanted me?,” you gasped out the question.

Joel lets out a low chuckle. He can't believe you don't know. How have you not known?

“Doll, I've wanted you for so damn long. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you.”

He nuzzles his face against your neck, placing soft kisses there, his hands squeezing your waist.

“You're like a damn drug. I can't get enough of you.”

Joel can feel your body respond to his words and it drives him wild. You're just so damn responsive. He can barely control himself anymore. He needs you now.

“You like that, doll? Like it when I tell you how damn badly I want you?”

He growls, his mouth moving up to your earlobe, gently biting the soft flesh there.

“S-Should we go inside? I think we should I-I want you so bad Joel.”

Joel nearly groans at your words. He doesn't want to wait. He wants you now. But you're right, it's too damn risky being out here where anyone could see.

“Mhm alright, doll. Let's go inside.”

He stands up, still keeping you in his arms, carrying you to the house. His grip on you is tight, his eyes filled with need.

Once inside, Joel closes the front door with a kick, still carrying you in his arms. He goes straight up the stairs, heading towards his room. His grip on you is tight, almost possessive.

“We're alone now, doll. No one's gonna see us...”

He says, his voice rough with desire.

“Mhm”, That was the only response you could conjure up.

Joel enters his room, closing the door behind him. He sets you gently on the edge of the bed, his hands immediately starting to wander over your body. They slide up your legs, skimming over the fabric of your sweatpants, his touch burning your skin.

“You're mine now, doll. All mine. And I ain't gonna let anyone one touch you...” He whispers as he leans over you, his body pinning you to the mattress.

“I only want you touching me.”

Joel moans at your words. The sound of you saying that you want only him touching you drives him wild. He presses himself against you, his body covering yours, his hands continuing to explore your body.

“You're damn right about that, doll. Only I get to touch this perfect body, hear you moan my name...”

He growls as his lips move to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down the delicate skin.

“Mhm Joel— please do something”

Hearing you moan his name, Joel can't take it anymore. He can't hold back any longer. He wants to hear you moan and gasp and whimper his name all day.

“You want me to touch you, doll? Want me to do something to you, huh?”

He chuckles low in your ear, his hand sliding up your thighs, his touch almost electric. He's teasing you.

You nodded quickly— maybe too quick.

Joel laughs, knowing he has you right where he wants you. You're at his mercy, begging for his touch. He's going to make sure you remember this moment for a very long time.

“Oh doll, I'll do something alright. I'm gonna make sure you're screaming my name all damn day long.”

His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath to your bare stomach.

He feels your skin shiver under his touch. It drives him crazy. He wants to feel every inch of your skin against his.

“You're so goddamn soft, doll. So perfect.” He growls quietly to himself as he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

His hands move up your body, pushing your shirt up, exposing your bare torso.

“Look at you, doll. So damn beautiful.”

He whispers against your skin, his hands roaming all over your bare skin. He takes a second to just look at you, drinking in the sight of you beneath him. His hands are tracing over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He lowers himself even more, his mouth moving to your chest. He presses gentle kisses over your boobs, his hands roaming over your waist to your hips, his mouth moving lower.

“Just look at you, doll... so damn perfect...” He growls, his hands gripping your hips with just a little too much strength, as if he's afraid you'll move away from him

His mouth eventually finds your hip bones. He litters dark purple marks there— he couldn’t help himself.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your pants.

He starts to slowly slide your sweatpants down your legs.

“God... I want you so bad, doll.” He moans against your skin.

All of his restraint is fading fast. He's barely holding on. He wants to rip you apart, to taste every inch of you.

“Mm I want you too”, you whined into room.

Hearing you say that you want him too snaps something in him.

“You don't know how bad I want you, doll. I can't get enough of you.”

He starts to kiss up your inner thighs, his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin. His head is hazy from desire, and he can't think straight anymore.

Joel gets between your thighs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, his head resting on your stomach. He's trying to calm himself down, but it's not working. He wants you too badly.

“F-Fuck- you- doll- you're gon' drive me insane- I swear—”

He can barely form a coherent sentence at this point. He's completely lost in his desire for you. His lips are still pressed against your inner thighs, his tongue darting out, getting closer to your clothed pussy.

He looks up at you, his eyes lock with yours. He gives you a wicked smile.

“I want to taste you, doll... can I taste you?”

You almost laughed, he doesn’t need to ask.

“Y-Yes f’course Joel. Please.”

Joel groans at your response. He almost came undone just at the thought of tasting you. His hands move to your waist, holding you in place.

“Damn... you're so eager for me, doll. I love it...”

He slowly starts to pull your panties down, his mouth moving to your inner thigh, leaving kisses all over the soft skin. His eyes are locked on yours, his head between your legs.

His hands squeeze your thighs again before running his tongue over your clit. He wants to taste you so badly, and he's going to take his time.

“Mhn doll, you're so damn sweet. I bet you taste so damn good.”

You moaned obscenely at the little flick his tongue just gave you.

Joel freezes at the sound, your moans sounded so goddamn good. He wants to hear it again. He needs to hear it again. He licks over your clit again, this time applying more pressure, his hands gripping your thighs a bit harder.

“Damn... you sound so pretty, doll. You want me to make you feel good huh?,” he mocks with that syrupy southern drawl.

You don’t answer him. He doesn’t need you to.

He moans against your core as he feels you get more eager. He starts to tease you, licking and kissing you in all the right spots.

“Fuck- you're so damn delicious, doll, I can't get enough of you.” He moans as his tongue starts making circles on your clit.

He speeds up, his movements more rough, more desperate. He can't help it. He can't get enough of you. He wants to hear more of those sounds, he wants to feel your hands in his hair. God, he wants it all.

“Doll... I don't think I can wait much longer. I need you, now.”

You arched into him, hips bucking into his face. Silently— or not so silently telling him “yes.”

“Y-Yes please fuck me Joel.”

Joel can't hold back anymore. He wanted to tease you a bit longer, but your words make him snap.

“Say it again, doll. Say you want me to f-fuck you.”

You whined but complied.

“Joel I-I wanna feel you inside me— please.”

Those words sent a shiver up Joel's spine. It drives him crazy. He can barely get the rest of his words out.

“Fuck doll... want me to be gentle, or rough with you?.”

“I-I don’t care I just needa feel you in my pussy Joel.”

Joel nearly groans as you beg for him, his hand gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise. He can't handle that sweet voice, begging for him, wanting him so badly.

“Alright doll.. I'll give you what you want.” He whispers as he positions his body above you.

By the time he managed to trail kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and suck a hard nipple into your mouth, you were reduced to a whining mess.

“Please… please please please,” you gasped, breath hitching as he rolled a nipple between his fingers as his teeth bit down with gentle care on the other.

“I hear you, pretty baby,” he purred as his mouth left your breast with a wet pop. His lips were on yours again within a second. A second later he was tugging his boxers down and out of the way.

“Last chance to back out,” he growled in your ear, sounding like the very thought was causing him pain.

Instead of dignifying that frankly appalling thought with an answer, you reached down and gave his length a few tugs before lining the tip up at your entrance and wiggling your hips enticingly.

He took the hint and rolled his hips forward, burying himself inside of you inch by delicious pussy-stretching inch. Within moments his hips were flush with yours and you both let loose desperate moans as he ground himself against you, pelvis brushing against your poor, sensitive clit.

He gave you only a few seconds to adjust before he was pulling back out and thrusting in none too gently, a gasp of satisfaction leaving his lips as your pussy greedily swallowed his cock in its tight, wet heat. He repeated the same movement, slow, deliberate, and punishing, but you wanted— no, needed— more.

“Please, Joel! More, god— fuck me, more,” you moaned as you reached up and scratched your nails down his back.

He hissed at the feeling but apparently enjoyed it because the only warning you had was an animalistic growl before he pulled his hips back and began pounding you unforgivingly into the mattress beneath you.

Within minutes the air in the room was almost uncomfortably hot and reeking of sex, but you barely noticed. All of your attention was focused on the man above you who, despite the rough way he thrusted into you with every snap of his hips, was painting your face with gentle kisses. His eyes were searching your face constantly and was apparently satisfied with what he found there because he was smiling faintly as he captured your lips in a kiss. “So sweet for me, baby,” he murmured against your lips, breath hot against your cheeks.

It made me smile before I moaned loudly.

In a frankly sinful show of strength and dexterity he unwrapped your legs from where they’d slipped down to his hips and placed them over his shoulders, practically bending you in half as he leaned forward and continued to plow into you. The difference was, though, that now he was hitting that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust, lighting fireworks behind your eyes.

Your orgasm surprised both of you, but the tension that had been building snapped suddenly and you practically screamed in pleasure as heat raced through your body. Joel noticed and was purring praises in your ear as he fucked you through it, but you were so lost in the pleasure you barely registered the words.

“Make such nice noises, baby. Take me so nice, not done with you yet. Gonna make you feel so good,” you heard him growl as you started to come down from your high. His thrusts had slowed to a dirty grind, seemingly aware of how every nerve in your body was extra sensitive at the moment. When you finally locked eyes with him he smiled and ran a hand soothingly through your hair. “Got another one in you, pretty thing?” he whispered, fingers scratching gently against your scalp.

You nodded along with a broken “please Joel.”

Instead of the rough pace Joel fucked you with before but now you found yourself in his arms as he leaned back, pulling you upright and into his lap without pulling out. You shuddered at the feeling of him sheathed so deeply into you and moaned when your oversensitive clit rubbed against his abs. Leaning back revealed that his legs were propped up right behind you, trapping you tightly to his chest and providing you with some support if you reached behind you.

“Come on, pretty thing, take what you want,” he said, lips ghosting against your chest and neck as his hands migrated downwards, settling firmly and comfortingly on your hips.

You placed your thighs flush to his hips and, on slightly shaky legs, lifted yourself up until he barely remained inside you, before sliding back down with a strangled cry. His hands steadied you and he murmured words of encouragement as you slowly built up a steady pace, helped along by his gentle hands, guiding you down along his shaft and thrusting upwards at every stroke.

“So pretty like this,” he growled, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You arched and let out a surprised moan as your clit rubbed against his stomach and soft abs at the new angle, once again setting every nerve on fire and getting you close to the edge again startlingly fast.

“Joel! Joel, please,” you babbled as your hands flew to his shoulders. The only reason you could keep moving was thanks to his steady, patient hands on your hips, pulling you securely and fully onto his dick with every movement. Without him you were sure you’d be reduced to a moaning, writhing mess that would only be capable of grinding on top of his lap.

He shushed you gently and let go of you for a split second. One hand went behind him to brace himself and the other went around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest. Trapped and loving every second of it, the air was practically punched out of your lungs as he pulled you up then slammed you back down, thrusting upwards with such strength that you could only moan and hang on for the ride. “Gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna make you mine,” he growled, eyes glazed over with lust as he continued to fuck you.

“Come for me,” he ordered against the skin of your neck, pace not faltering for a second.

The order— the pure lust behind it— was what finally tipped you over the edge. You cried out as your second orgasm hit you, writhing in Joel's arms as pleasure consumed you head to toe. “Yeah, that’s right, sweet thing. You did so good for me,” he growled, but any further praises were cut off as your orgasm triggered his own. You could feel his hips stutter briefly as he twitched inside of you, thrusts turning deep and slow as he worked the both of you through your orgasms.

“Mine,” he growled before sinking his teeth deeply into the tender skin that connected your neck and shoulder. The pain only enhanced your orgasm though and you both groaned as your walls clamped down on his dick, milking him for all he was worth.

Eventually you both caught your breaths and came back down from your highs.

He stayed inside of you but arranged you gently on top of him as he laid on his back, running a soothing hand through your hair and down your back. You were so thoroughly fucked out that you could only whimper as his still semi-hard cock moved around inside you. He pulled the blanket over both of you and shushed you gently, murmuring gentle praises.

That, along with the exhaustion, had you falling asleep in his arms within minutes. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was him whispering, “Gonna take such good care of you, doll. Rest, sweetheart.”

Nothing could have sounded better at the moment, even if it was the early afternoon, but you squeezed his arm gently and fell asleep with your head pillowed on his chest.

—

—> part 2