#mugs and fuzzy socks

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

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It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[addaxus]

Sorry for the slow content output guys, but I’ve been dealing with being sick for awhile now. These damn chest colds always find me at the worst times I swear🙄

And Christmas was miserable so hopefully I’ll be better come New Years.

Bruno with fuzzy toe socks!? Whaaattt??

[rosicheeks]

From the fun asks - 1, 31, 46, 71?

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

more cereal 🥰

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Ohhhhhhhh I’ll go off in the tags about socks 🥰

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

Gee-I’m-a-tree 🤦🏽‍♀️😂

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Honestly I’m not a huge tea person. Mainly cause I haven’t tried many and I want to try them but they expensive and I’m scared I won’t like it hahaha

[royalelusts]

i want a bond like this

[sammansonn]

my apartment feels like an ice bucket I stg we’re all gonna freeze to death fr

[cupid-styles]

valentine's day (nerdrry x camgirl!yn)

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: smut! (exhibitionism, toys/bondage, daddy kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, overstimulation)

original nerdrry x camgirl!yn story

masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Most mornings, Y/N can’t remember where she fell asleep the night before. 

It’s not because she’s a bad sleeper or has chronic insomnia or anything like that. In actuality, in the past few months that she and Harry have officially started their relationship, they find it nearly impossible to be apart for the night. Y/N hates waking up without feeling his warm body pressed up against hers, his chest curled into the form of her back and his arm looped around her waist, while Harry dreads the feeling of her cold, unmade side of the bed when she’s not there.

So, even with warnings of codependency tucked into the logical portions of their brains, they try not to worry. Instead, they enjoy winter evenings made just a tad bit toastier with the presence of the other: Fuzzy socks and steaming cups of tea, bubble baths and eucalyptus soap-scented kisses, soft palms pressed against one another as they read their respective books in a bedroom bathed in a soft golden light. 

It’s good — Y/N thinks it’s all really good, and she’s really happy, and she doesn’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day because every other day that she’s spent with Harry has her walking around with hearts in her eyes, even if her friends tease her over it. But Harry is Harry and he does care — he cares a lot, actually.

He promises her he won’t go all out. She even makes him wrap his pinkie around hers and pledge not to get scammed by buying expensive, overpriced flowers and chocolates. And he doesn’t — he listens to Y/N and opts for a far more lowkey version of what he had envisioned for her.

But right now, Beatrice, his sweet, gray haired cat, is ruining it. 

Beatrice is ruining it!

“Bea,” Harry hisses. The cat’s eyes barely blink open and she stays firmly placed on top of Y/N’s chest, where she’s apparently decided to take real estate this morning. “Beatrice Styles, get down!”

He’s trying his best not to speak too loudly to avoid waking Y/N before her surprise, but his hands are full so he can’t scoop Beatrice up and nudge her tush out of the room like he normally does. (Y/N hates having sex with her in the room, explaining that it’s guaranteed to scar her “poor, innocent eyes”, so both Harry and Beatrice are used to the routine by now.) And perhaps this is payback for all the times he’s kicked her out because he swears he’s never seen her so stubborn before.

“Beatrice Stevie Styles, if you don’t get down right now—”

“Are you threatening your cat?”

Harry huffs when he hears Y/N’s croaky morning voice rasp out from above the covers. He shuffles to the edge of the bed and gently puts down the tray he’s holding and leans forward to grab Beatrice’s plump body. 

“No,” he mutters, “She just chose a very inopportune time to be… evil.”

Y/N hums non-committedly as Harry places Beatrice down. She hasn’t yet cracked her eyes open, which sends a bolt of excitement through his chest — he still has a chance at surprising her. 

“Keep your eyes closed please,” he says as he curls his hands through the wooden handles of the tray. 

“To be honest, I think I kind of liked having her on my chest— it was like a soft, suffocating weight. Almost like a weighted blanket, maybe?”

“Y/N,” Harry warns, and she peeps an eye open to see her boyfriend hovering over her, “Y/N! Didn’t I say to keep your eyes closed?”

“Oh! Still?”

He sighs, flashing her an annoyed look before lowering slightly to show her the array of breakfast foods diligently placed over the maple-hued wood: heart shaped pancakes, fruit cut into stars, her favorite tea in a mug with her initial on it. It instantly makes her grin, sitting up hurriedly against the blue velvet of Harry’s headboard. 

“This is so sweet,” she coos, looking up at him with a wide smile. The frustration sitting in Harry’s body instantly melts away and he grins back at her, heart squeezing slightly at the tired puffiness in her eyes. “Thank you so much, H. This is perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he slowly places the board down. She moves her book out of the way so he has room on the nightstand. “I know you said nothing big, so…”

“So this is perfect,” she emphasizes. She scooches over and pats the empty spot next to her, encouraging him to lay down next to her. “Happy Valentine's Day. I’m sorry Beatrice and I ruined your big surprise.”

Harry snorts, grabbing the small bowl of fruit and handing it to her. She accepts it graciously and pops a strawberry between her lips before feeding him a blueberry.

“She’s been getting naughtier lately. I think you’re inspiring some bad female energy I didn’t know she had.”

“Or maybe you were just stifling her energy,” Y/N points out, “She needed a cool camgirl in her life to bring it out.”

“Right,” he mumbles playfully and Y/N giggles, elbowing his ribs lightly. 

“Speaking of which. You’re still fine with me streaming tonight?”

He shrugs as he leans over to grip her mug, carefully maneuvering the full cup of tea. He sets it on his lap, welcoming the warm feeling between his palms. 

“It doesn’t bother me at all, baby. You know that.”

It’s the truth, too — Harry’s willing to recognize that streaming is part of her lifestyle. It’s more than just a job for her, especially considering her 9 to 5 position as a graphic designer is still rather lackluster. In the months that they’ve dated, they’ve had many conversations about it: why she liked streaming and had no plans to give it up, mainly. She viewed it as a form of sexual freedom and autonomy over her own body and the money certainly sweetened the deal. Who was Harry to argue with that? 

The only thing that’s changed is her schedule. Since bringing someone new into her life — someone who she cared for and wanted to spend time with — she revised her daily streams to three times a week. She also posted additional photos and videos for members to supplement both the income she was losing, and the content her viewers weren’t getting. 

Valentine’s Day is different, though. She’d asked Harry a few weeks back if he cared if she went online that day and honestly, he didn’t. He knows that if he didn’t have her, he would probably look to watching her stream to feel just a little less lonely. And while he wasn’t entirely too keen on sharing his girlfriend with the world, he also knew that they were committed to one another. They were grateful for that stupid website and her dedication to it, otherwise they never would have met. 

“I just feel bad,” she says with a sigh, referring to her plan to stream this evening, “Feel like I’m making a fucked up choice.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not like we have plans or anything, and you know I’m fine with it. Don’t feel bad.”

Y/N hands him the bowl so she can curl into his side. He welcomes her, eagerly wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“It’ll just be a few hours and then you can come over and spend the night,” he murmurs, ducking his thumb beneath the fabric of her tee-shirt to rub circles into the skin. “Or I can come to you if you’re too tired. Whatever works.”

That seems to light a spark in her brain because she’s suddenly sitting back up. Harry’s staring at her and trying not to smile at her wild bed head, but the slightly thrilled look in her eyes is a bit distracting anyway.

“Remember that time we talked about you being with me while I stream?”

Harry raises his eyebrows slowly.

“Like, being in the room with me… telling me what to do… you remember that, right?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“What if we do that?” she asks, shifting onto her knees. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. But you could be behind the camera and you could just… I don’t know, dominate me from there. Is that hot? Or is it a stupid—”

“Hot,” he cuts her off before coughing into his hand. “Definitely hot.”

She grins. “You think so? We could use that toy I got us forever ago, too. From when we met.”

His chest starts to feel warm as he nods eagerly. “T-The vibrator?”

“Yeah!” she nods excitedly. “So you can control it while I’m streaming, too. Does that sound okay?”

He swallows tightly and tries to will away the hardness thickening up in his briefs. 

“I like that a lot.” 

“Okay,” she’s smiling at him widely, completely unaware of just how appealing the situation sounds to him. She leans forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna finish breakfast and then shower? I have to be at the office—”

Suddenly, he’s pinning her down against the array of messy blankets scattered over the bed, a sinful smirk on his lips. 

“I want you to shut up and let me fuck your face so I don’t accidentally bust when I spend my whole day thinking about tonight.”

She’s giggling loudly, the sound of sunshine and bells chiming in the wind, before dropping her mouth open. 

. . .

Y/N spends way too much time tying a heart-shaped shibari harness around her chest, but it’s entirely worth it the second Harry sees her that evening. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, drinking her appearance in. His throat instantly dries as his eyes scan over her lacy pink lingerie set and she warms beneath his gaze, nibbling on her bottom lip. 

“Do you like it?” she asks, pushing her chest out slightly. 

“Do I like it?” he repeats breathily, running the pads of his fingertips down the length of her chest. He tucks his knuckles beneath the vertical rope and tugs lightly, making her gasp. “You look incredible, baby.”

“Thank you,” she giggles, intertwining her fingers with his free hand, “Are you still feeling alright about this?”

He nods and she smiles, guiding him over to her streaming setup in her spare room. She bounces down on the futon and squeezes his hand. He’s never been on this side of things before, so he has to admit that it’s fascinating and exciting to see it all from her perspective instead of a private tab on his phone. 

They discuss the logistics of things before she clicks ‘live’, mainly just in case either one of them gets uncomfortable and wants to stop. In lieu of a safe word, they settle on a motion of tugging their ear three times to signal that they no longer wanted to take part. They decide that Y/N would immediately log off and they would discuss what went wrong — but if both of them are being honest, they’re both bubbling with excitement. 

And, with her toy on and ready to go, Harry perched on a chair behind her laptop, Y/N starts her stream.

He swallows nervously and she sends him a wink, a silent, flirtatious reassurance that everything will be just fine. She nibbles on her lip as she waits for the chat room to fill up, a small smile forming as messages begin to float in. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day my loves,” she greets cheekily, shifting onto her knees. Her heels dig into her bum as she wiggles excitedly, glancing up at Harry. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips as his eyes scan over her chest and down to her covered core, zeroing in on where her vibrator is inserted firmly inside of her. He palms himself through his briefs as she makes small talk with her viewers. 

She leans back and splits her thighs open to reveal a string of lace barely covering her pussy. He swallows back a groan. 

“Are you excited to watch me play?” Y/N asks, eyes flickering to the male sitting across from her. It wasn’t her plan, but she can’t help ignoring the chats coming through, instead too enamored by the fact that her boyfriend is watching her. And, as if he can read her mind, Harry nods before mouthing the words touch your tits. 

Immediately, she does as she’s told. She pulls the fabric of her bralette down and swirls a finger in her mouth. She pinches her nipples and whimpers softly, back arching slightly. 

“Know you love my tits, daddy,” she whimpers, her gaze set on Harry, “They’re all yours. Every bit of me belongs to you.”

With a smirk, he pulls the remote to her vibrator out and clicks it on. She instantly moans at the low sensation pressed deep against her g-spot, eyes rolling back from the intense pressure. 

“Touch yourself for me,” she pleads, trailing her fingers down her stomach. She plucks at the straps of her underwear and wordlessly looks to Harry for permission. He nods, and not a second later she’s pulling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor. “Shit— do you see how wet I am for you, daddy?”

The chat goes crazy when they see the vibrator inserted deep inside of her. She can feel her pussy already begin to pulsate around the small silicone toy and she reaches out to grip the blanket beneath her. She only glances up when she hears the familiar sound of slick passes, a whimper leaving her lips when she realizes Harry’s jerking his cock to the sight of her falling apart. 

“So good,” she moans, their eyes locked. He stares at her intensely, his gaze only turning her on even more. “Can I touch my clit, please? N-need more.” 

Beg, he mouths. 

“Please, daddy— fuck, please let me touch my clit, daddy!”

He smirks as he squeezes the base of his length. “Go ahead.” He murmurs lowly, quiet enough so only she can hear him. 

Y/N makes hurried motions to circle her clit tightly, whimpering loudly from the much needed stimulation. Her eyes are shut tightly when he turns her vibrator up another notch, eliciting a sharp gasp on her end. 

“Oh my god,” she mewls, “I’m gonna cum— fuck, please, can I cum? Please, please—“ 

Harry cuts her off with another quiet response: “Ask them, not me.”

She can hardly keep her eyes open long enough to read through the responses coming through the chat. It’s an evil punishment, especially when he turns her vibrator up again. Her legs are shaking as she sits up on her elbows, the slightest bite of pain nearly pushing her over the edge from the rope digging into her chest. 

“Please, I need to cum,” she begs pathetically, trying to scan over the messages in the chat: 

No!!! Edge urself 

Cum for us baby

Go ahead 

Such a good girl

It’s too much for her to process — the toy is vibrating aggressively against the soft spot deep inside of her and she can’t hold it in much longer. She moans, unable to keep herself from reaching her peak, her muscles tightening and her pussy pulsating. A slew of curses fall from her lips as she rides her orgasm out, eyes rolling back into her skull. 

It’s the most delicious feeling, especially knowing Harry is sitting across from her and watching it all happen. Her eyes flicker up to him for permission to take a break, hoping his thumb is already brushing over the off button on the remote, but instead she’s met with a smirk she knows all too well. He looks borderline sadistic as she gasps, their eyes locked when he turns the toy on even higher.

“Oh,” she breathes out, laying back against the mess of blankets beneath her. At this point, she knows all anyone can see is the mess of arousal between her legs. It’s embarrassing and perfect.

“‘s a lot,” she slurs out. She thinks she hears Harry chuckle but she’s not sure. “Fuck— fuck, I think— have another—“

“You do,” this time she’s sure of his quiet voice, hushed so his words are only for her ears. “You have another one in there for me.”

Her knees are bent and knocking together as she wedges her hands between her thighs. She has to do something to ground herself; a half-assed attempt at mitigating the intense pleasure filling her body.

“Inside,” he commands from across the room. She moans, but only because he’s asking more of her. “Put your fingers inside or don’t touch yourself at all.”

She chooses the former because it somehow seems easier, quickly pushing two fingers into her pulsating hole alongside the small vibrator. Harry fills her up more than this but the knowledge of what she’s doing as his direction is incredibly hot. It doesn’t matter that she’s taken more and abused her pussy far more than this before — especially not when she’s a desperate submissive for Harry, willing to do whatever he asks of her.

The slight stretch of her pussy feels delicate and delicious and she can barely gurgle out the words I’m coming before it’s happening. Harry groans at the sight, slicking himself and pumping faster as her ribbon unravels, a small burst of liquid gushing from the movements of her fingers.

As soon as her peak slowly begins to taper off, she’s too exhausted to notice him rise from his seat. She gasps when he shuts her laptop closed before she even has a chance to say goodbye to her viewers. Instead, he leans down to wrap his hand around the rope secured around her chest, pushing her down against the soft fabric of the couch. 

“You’re gonna take my cum all over that dirty little pussy,” he growls, pumping his cock quickly in his palm. She’s too stunned and turned on to reply so she quickly nods her head, parting her pussy lips with v-shaped fingers. The toy is still vibrating inside of her, sending aftershocks through her body. 

“Good fucking girl,” he grumbles throatily. The sight of her wet center is enough to send him barreling to his orgasm, a series of groans toppling from his mouth as he sprays his seed across her pussy. “Fuck, there you go, baby, take it all.”

She whimpers at the feeling of his warm cum painting her core. As soon as he finishes, she makes quick work to yank the vibrator out, her body entirely too exhausted and overstimulated to stand it for another second. 

Harry’s panting loudly as he lowers to his knees and presses a few light kisses to her thigh. He catches his breath as she runs her fingers through his curly hair, coming down from her own influx of lust. She’s unsure of how long they stay like that but eventually, Harry stands up to kiss her forehead. 

“Gimme a sec to clean you up,” he murmurs. She nods, allowing her eyes to fall shut. A few moments later, he returns with a damp towel and gently swipes over her core. They settle into a comfortable silence as he does so, and he lays down next to her when he’s finished. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her sleepy form into his side. Exhausted, she allows him to maneuver her. 

“Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?” He asks softly. Y/N hums as she buries her head into the crook of his neck. 

“The best,” she murmurs, “How about you?”

“The best.” He echoes with a small smile. The quiet returns but neither of them want to fill it. He thinks she’s fallen asleep, assuming he’ll have to help guide her to the shower (which she’ll give him shit about, surely) when she shifts a bit, pressing her cheek into the comforter to look at him.

“I love you, you know.”

It's the first time she's said that to him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, filling him and making it seem as though he's bursting at the seams with the same love and adoration for the girl next to him.

If he's being honest, he thinks he's known he's loved her — and she's loved him — for awhile now: Through small gestures like when he makes her bed in the morning because she's running late for work, or when she quietly fills up Beatrice's bowls with food and water when he's in a meeting. Bigger things, too — her taking the day off for his birthday and doing whatever he wants, all day. Or the time she picked up two of his favorite scent of candle because they were on sale, or when she's had a bad day so he surprises her with her favorite meal (garlic chicken stir fry with extra cilantro) via meal delivery service because he knows she wants to be alone.

"Yeah," he nods with a smile, "I do know. I love you, too."

[campirebites]

I just saw ‘grieve the love you couldn’t give’ or something and lol wow makes sense that’s why the ungiven gifts at the back of my closet make me so sad I just need to donate them to goodwill

[longlivelindanny]

Danny and Linda’s house looks very calming, actually

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[tteokdoroki]

imagine silently vibing in the kitchen with katsuki bakugou.

you help yourself up into the counter, dressed in nothing but his shirt (haphazardly thrown on after spending all day kissing and getting nasty in bed) and a pair of fuzzy socks because he’d told you the apartment was cold since he runs warm and you need to keep your feet warm.

the kettle rumbles loud and proud beside you while katsuki gets the mugs from the top shelf. you’d made them together on your sixth or seventh date — a pottery painting class. bakugou’s is a creamy shade of Orange, like the sun setting outside the kitchen window, warm on your back. and yours is a soft pink, like the blush that dusts his cheeks from being caught staring. staring at you.

you let him make you some kind of herbal tea. watching bakugou grab the tea bags from another cupboard. this time, you’re the one staring, eyes caught on the motion of his back muscles rippling before cascading down to his unfairly slender waist, his grey sweat pants that hang a little too low on his itty bitty hips, and the rough textured skin on his side. the battle scar you love so much.

“what flavour?”

you hear him mumble, your gaze that was once tethered to the eighth wonder of the world (his phenomenally beautiful body) shoots up to bakugou’s face. a lazy smirk lies on the plump edge of his lips and compliments the his chiselled features illuminated by golden hour outside. you see the sun reflect off the brownish flecks to his gorgeous ruby eyes and the soft tint of blonde to his hair (you make a mental note to thank mitsuki for this later), before mirroring his smile.

“peach.”

to people on the outside of your lovey little bubble — there’s nothing significant about your choice of tea. but to you and katsuki, you know that it’s the same flavour as the lip glaze you wore on the night he first kissed you. it’s the scent of your body wash, the one that you leave at his place because you know that bakugou adores peaches on you. peaches, like the fruits you cut up for him whenever you’re able to join him for lunch at the agency, swiping your thumb over his chin as the juices run down it — sucking it off with an affectionate laugh.

“sweet,” bakugou hums into the quiet ambience of the kitchen. “just like you.”

his hands, though capable of intangible levels of destruction, work delicately and quickly to brew you the perfect cup of peach herbal tea. before you can even ask, he sweetens your cup with a tea spoon of brown sugar and a dash of golden honey — pushing it towards you gently. with a loving whispered reminder. ‘careful, it’s hot.’

katsuki waits for you to take a sip before he does the same with his own. he won’t admit to how cute you look on his counter, in his apartment, in his clothes with his marks on your neck, glittering under the setting sun. his bare feet pad on the vinyl flooring as he crosses the kitchen to meet you and his chest bristles with happiness when your legs part to make room for him.

“good?”

“always,” you chirp, looking up at kastuki through your lashes with your big bambi eyes. “i love you.”

katsuki looks taken aback but quickly recovers, rubbing his cheek on his bare shoulder as if to rid himself of the heat rising underneath its skin.

“love you even more. now drink up b’fore it gets cold.” he says gruffly but he’s lovesick all the same. you think that bakugou is so cute, you might implode.

and there you are, vibing out in the quietness of his kitchen — clinking your misshapen mugs together and drinking tea, letting the world go by as if you’re the only two people in it.

[thot4ellie]

oh sweetheart pt 3

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 5.4k!!! longest part yet yay

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol, boxing, kissing, joel is dead in this, talk of abusive relationship, smoking, they’re drunk but eveything is consensual ofc! lmk if im missing anything

summary: you and ellie share a moment and both of you admit it :)

author notes: hi everyone thank you for all the love on this series <<<333 this is a good one! not all the way edited yet but i wanted to post cause i finished it 20 minutes ago! sorry for the wait but i think maybe some smut in the near future ;) requests are open and id love any feedback. thank you for 200 followers and over almost 2000 likes!! this is unbelievable and im so grateful! pls let me know if u want to be added to the taglist!!!

part 3 | part 4

series masterlist | main masterlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

finally friday is here, it feels like you’ve been counting the minutes until you see her again. you woke up around eleven am and put water in the kettle to make yourself some tea as you went to the bathroom to get your morning routine done, paramore playing over your speaker in the bathroom. your routine is something you’ve started to build since you moved to try and keep your anxiety at bay, not all the time it works but its a good way to get your day started. you started with washing your face, brushing your teeth, then brushing the bedhead out of the mess you call hair.

a couple minutes later, you hear the kettle hiss and you make your way back to the kitchen and turn off the stove. you picked your favorite mug out of your cabinet and make your tea. leaving the kitchen, you went back to sit on the couch and think about a million different outcomes that would possibly happen tonight when you see her. you wonder if you’re reading too much into the way she talked to you, was she even flirting with you at all? or just being nice? did she just feel bad about seeing what happened outside her gym?

your phone buzzed in the mist of your thoughts on your and you read a text from dina telling you they’re leaving for the gym around 7 and if you wanted a ride. before responding you pulled up the weather app on your phone and decided you could walk there, its a warm summer day out again and by the time the sun fell, it would be cool enough to walk and it was only about 15 minutes from your house, that and leaving open the possibility that she would want to drive you home again.

you texted her back saying that you would just meet them there. you looked at the time seeing its about eleven thirty so you still have a while until you have to leave. you decided you were gonna be productive today. you did laundry and washed your sheets, did the dishes, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and made a sandwich for lunch even thought by now it was 4 o clock. as you were walking around your apartment, you made a mental note to try and find some nice thrift stores around to help you decorate your place. you made your way to your bathroom to shower for tonight.

you love taking long showers, its your guilty pleasure. thanking god that your landlord pays your water bill as you dried off from the shower, put on your strawberry lotion, a big black t-shirt and fuzzy socks to hang around in while you did your hair and minimal makeup. you couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her tonight. new girl was playing on the tv in your room as you finished the final touches on your face. doing light everything since its hot but still wanting to look nice for the occasion: finally seeing her again.

four episodes later and its 6 o clock so you change into a pair of black levi shorts and a green top. your hair and makeup still looked good from earlier so nothing to touch up but you still triple checked yourself. you wish you could have smoked today to help beat the nerves but you wouldn’t have anything until tonight, smiling to yourself thinking of you and her on the phone both laughing when you asked if she was bribing you. you slipped on your converse, grabbed your bag, and locked the front door behind you and started making your way to ellie’s gym.

you got there around seven and you didn’t see jesses car yet but you did see hers. ellie’s beat up 2000 green honda cry sat in a spot towards the back of the parking lot. memories of you leaning on her window practically admitting you liked when she called you sweetheart and the peaceful feeling of comfortable silence you both held.

you heard someone call your name in the distance to turn and see dina getting out of the car, you were so concentrated on ellies car you didn’t even see them pull in. you made your way over and greeted them with a hug as dina wrapped your arm in hers and dragged you in with her, jesse following behind. you tried to calm your nerves but it just wasn’t working. not nervous about being here, even after what happened outside with the man last time, but of seeing her again. you’ve only spoken to her a handful of times but you thought of her more times than you can count.

as soon as you made it closer towards the front door, it was loud, like the first time you were here. loud people, loud lights, loud everything but now knowing it was ellie’s changed it. jesse held the door as dina went in first and you both followed. florescent lights beamed from above you, shining on the sweaty bodies in the gym. it was just like it was the first time you came. your nerves followed you everywhere, but it was worth seeing her again.

you went in and dina guided you guys to the same table you had last time. you wonder if they sit here every time. you looked around for ellie but you didn’t see her anywhere. you saw her car so she has to be here.

dina and jesse got up to go get drinks from the makeshift bar while you sat and waited for them to bring back your drink. you looked over to them waiting their turn when you heard something behind you.

“hey sweetheart,” she whispered close to your ear, and before you could respond she pulled out the the seat next to you and sat down.

“hey ellie,” you said almost startled. she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a black t shirt and all her tattoos were showing this time. it was almost mind blowing seeing her and you couldn’t even explain what it did to you. you don’t understand why a girl you barely know has this effect on you.

“i told you to call me el,” she said and laughed kindly towards you, “i have the stuff for you” she finished.

“oh thank you, i’d hope so considering that’s the reason i came,” you joked.

“wait you mean you didn’t come to see me?” she said sounding fake hurt.

“that was just a plus,” you flirted. dina and jesse came back to the table with the drinks before she responded to you and they both greeted ellie as they sat.

“hey els we didn’t see you before we ordered the drinks, i can go get one for ya?” jesse asked her.

“nah i’ll wait til the next round, thanks though” she told him. she smiled at you and the conversation started between all four of you, before you knew it an hour and a half passed, you had more three more rounds and just enjoyed your friday night. the match started and you find it so convenient that you can still see the ring from where the table is so theres no need to get up and watch considering its not ellie up there.

you watched for a bit until it was coming to the end, cheering erupted and ellie told dina and jesse that she was going out for a smoke, before she got up, she leaned over to you and whispered “you coming sweetheart?” softly in your ear, her face inches away from yours, then she moved back and smiled. she held out her hand and you held it as she pulled you up with her as you blushed so hard, you swear you turned into a tomato.

your eyes stayed on her hand holding yours and the beautiful moth tattoo covering her arm, not believing that she’s actually touching you again. you followed behind her as she moved with you through the gym towards the door, as you walked out still hand in hand you saw the side of the building, it was the same place she defended you the first time you met her.

she lead you over to a bench that you never even realized was there. your hands broke as you both sat, she went pull out her cigarette pack and the lighter from her back pocket when she noticed you were staring at her still. she smirked as she opened the pack, and surprisingly pulled out a joint. she put it in her mouth and brought the lighter up to it before telling you “its not polite to stare sweetheart.”

you blushed and looked away as soon as she said it. she laughed and she passed the joint to you, you told her you just couldn’t help it. and you really couldn’t, she’s breathtaking. the way her freckles danced across her whole face, her eyes had a small tint of brown circling her iris, the scar on her right eyebrow, the way her lips just sat perfectly on her face. you so badly want to reach out and touch them again.

you hit it a couple times, you are sure your cheeks haven’t been back to normal since you saw her and you wonder if she’s noticed. you passed her back the joint and she staring at you taking in every detail of you too as she brought it to her mouth and took a hit. blowing out the smoke she smirked, and said “i can’t either sweetheart.”

she leaned back against the bench, legs spread a little as she handed you the joint and asked, “so what brought you here besides jesse?” she acquired. you told her about living in brooklyn, above the cafe you worked and how your time spent there wasn’t totally great but the real reason was running from a shitty past, you weren’t ready to tell her specifics but you told her that’s why you left, you had to get away from what happened there but it was more like who. she told you she understood and then she told you “well i’m glad you’ve made your way here sweetheart.”

you don’t know if it was the alcohol or weed but you sat outside on the bench for another 20 minutes, smoking and laughing as you talked about so much: you talked about the tv shows you’re both watching, the albums you had on repeat, the guilty pleasures you both had and what you both did in your free time. you spoke to one another like you’ve known each other for years. it just feels so good to talk to someone like this again.

she learned that your parents live in portland, so moving coasts was a big deal but you felt like you were on auto-pilot growing up and you knew you had to get out when you could, she learned that you dropped out of college two years and haven’t made any plans to go back but you would like to. you told her a couple funny stories about you and jesse growing up and she laughed at them all.

you found out that she plays guitar and that she spends time drawing and journaling. you learn that ellie was adopted when she was 14, she grew up in boston, and she has an older sister named sarah but that she doesn’t come around much anymore since she gotten married. she told you that her dad passed away from a heart attack about a year ago and since then, her and her uncle tommy.

“im sorry to hear about your dad els” you sympathized.

“its okay sweetheart, just fucking sucks sometimes.” she responded softly as she put the joint out next to her and slipped it back in her cigarette pack. instead this time she pulled out a cigarette and lit that this time. she slid it in her pocket before she stood up off the bench, offering you her hand again and said you should probably head back inside.

you grabbed her warm hand and stood up to follow her, you started the walk towards the side door but before she opened it, she turned around to you and faced you.

“hey sweetheart?” she asked.

“yes els?” you waited for her to continue, her hand still covering yours.

“im glad you came sweetheart, this was nice, i mean as nice as it gets sitting on the side of this place,” she laughed softly, you felt like she was closer than ever but maybe because you just wanted her to be, “you know, id love to do this again.. and maybe play you something on my guitar.. if you want.” she said almost nervously, feeling the urge to look away from you.

“i would love that els.” you said, looking up from staring at your hands together to smiling in her face. you cant believe she asked you, part of you prayed she would, you knew there was a connection here. she realized it too. your eye contact never faded as you stood here.

“great, im looking forward to it more than you know,” she told you sweetly. she let go out hand and you felt slight disappoint in your heart as you assumed she was going to turn around and open the door and this moment would be over. instead, she brought her hand up to your face and let it rest on your cheek as she brushed her thumb over it. the touch of her warm hand sent sparks through your body this time and you couldn’t be bothered moving as she grew closer to you.

“you have no idea how much i wanna kiss you right now.” she whispered, from only what felt like two inches away from your lips. fuck, you thought silently. she was so close to you, you could feel her breathe as she spoke.

“please do it.” you practically whined, you couldn’t take this anymore. all you wanted to do was feel her lips on yours. after you spoke, you felt her thumb move from your cheek to brushing your lips softly. the drinks you had definitely brought out your confident and the want you had for her.

“oh sweetheart,” she purred towards you, “how badly i want to but it has to be more special than this.” she said moving her thumb back to your red cheek.

“just as long as it happens el,” you responded, breathing heavier as your nerves grew in anticipation.

she nodded as she slowly moved her hand off your face and brought it down to your hip and gave it a squeeze, still smiling at you as she reached to open the door and let you through in front of her.

you walk back into the gym and went to find jesse and dina. you saw jesse at the bar and ellie went over to him, telling you she was getting more drinks. you went over to dina at the table and took a seat next to her. you asked her how the match went and she told you same as always and nothing crazy this time.

“you guys were out there for a while, whats up with that?” dina asked while smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“dina…” you laughed, “we just smoked and talked for a bit.” you replied to her.

“sureeee that’s all, we see the way you look at her!”, she squealed, “and the way she looks at you, it just seems pretty obvious.”

you laughed and told her that nothing happened yet but you did admit to her that you wanted it to.

“stop we knew it!” she laughed loudly and hit the table in excitement. you pulled your hands to your face that was full of embarrassment.

“what do you mean you knew it, was it obvious?” you gasped. your eyes darting towards ellie at the makeshift bar.

“to me and jesse yes.” she told you still smiling over the fact that her two friends maybe starting something new soon.

as you went to reply, the drinks were on the table, jesse and ellie were back already at the table pulling their chairs. the conversation between you and dina came to a halt as you all started talking. you all sat, conversing and finished your last round by the time it hit around 11 pm. you were getting tired and you were definitely drunk after all the rounds of drinks everyone bought. the matches ended an hour ago and you guys were the last few people left besides the lady behind the bar and a couple stragglers paying their tab and chatting.

“hey i think me and d are gonna head out,” he said looking over to dina, who was definitely feeling all the drinks she had, he laughed and said, “this one needs to make it home into bed. can you make it home okay? i can take you now if you need” he asked talking to you.

“no i’m gonna take her home.” ellie cut in before you could respond. you looked at her and smiled as jesse told you to text when you both got home safe. he helped dina up and they made their way to the door. your eyes followed til they left and then you turned to ellie, who was already staring at you.

“that okay sweetheart? that i take you home again?” she asked smirking towards you.

“yeah els, that’s okay.” you blushed as she stood up and put her hand out for the third time tonight. you connected your hands again. touching her had your skin was burning up. you followed her into a back office. paperwork, receipts, and random things littered the room. as you looked around and saw a decent couch, a safe in the corner and a coffee area on a little table and a large desk with folders and boxes of things you didn’t know.

you watched as ellie disconnected your hands to go over to pick up her backpack from the side of the couch and then she grabbed a jacket she had hanging over the deck of the chair to the desk, she slid it over her shoulders then grabbed a piece of paper, writing something non legible from where you were standing. she smiled when she turned towards you and held her arm out motioning to the door for you guys to exit.

the stragglers were gone and the bartender bid ellie goodnight as she walked out the front door. you walked the distance of the gym and made it to the door with ellie, she leaned over and turned the lights off and then held the door opened for you.

you told her thank you and she nodded towards you, “i think we should walk, it’s not far from your apartment.” she spoke looking towards you for confirmation as she turned and locked up the gym for the night.

“that’s okay but how are you going to get home without your car?” you asked. you didn’t want her walking home alone either, you knew she could handle herself but still, the thought made you worry.

“i’m only 5 minutes away from you actually so its not far, ill be back for my car tomorrow.” she told you. you nodded and both of you continued to walk the sidewalk in a comfortable silence next to each other. you glanced up at the sky, noticing the stars and the way the moon beamed over the city. it was so much cooler now than it was earlier and you moved to brush over the goosebumps that covered your arms. ellie noticed your movement and took off her jacket. you turned when you noticed what she was going and told her, “no its okay we’ll be there soon i don’t need it.”

“sorry sweetheart, got to make sure you stay warm.” she smirked as she put it over your shoulders and watched as you put your arms in. you smiled to her as you readjusted it and continued the walk to your place. the smell of her engulfed you and you’ve never felt so comfortable.

“its so beautiful.” you whispered, “and quiet, new york was never like this. they don’t lie when they say the city never sleeps ya know?” you finished.

the city you moved to that you wish you could escape from. the shitty and abusive relationship you wish you could leave behind. the things you tried the most to forget. you never spoke about it, you just ran. the city you wished had better memories connected with it. but now all you want is to create new memories.

when you moved across the country, you told yourself that you’re not getting into anything here because you know you need to heal from the those years of abuse and insecurity so the last thing you expected was to meet ellie and end up feeling this way about her. you don’t want this to happen and you ruin it because you aren’t okay but with her, you feel like you could be okay one day.

“i could only imagine, boston was a busy place too but not the same, it always is quiet here.” she chuckled softly.

“i love it, things finally seem calm now.” you smiled as you looked her. she took in the sight of you in her jacket and she loved it. she can only imagine seeing you wear her t shirts… or nothing at all. she shook the thoughts from her head but she just couldn’t help it. you were the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. you were breathtaking. she couldn’t believe she’d met someone like you in this shitty small town.

the town where her dad and her moved, and the memories of them together haunted her. now that he was gone, she knew a piece of her was missing. things were incomplete without him. he was all she thought about, the guilt of what happened and how she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

the only time ellie wasn’t thinking about joel was when she was thinking about you, she was grateful that she met you. she didn’t know what this was going to turn into but she hoped it would be something. she sees the effects she has on you and she wishes she really knew how to communicate with you that she feels the same way about you.

you continued the walk in a comfortable silence, both of you wrapped in your thoughts of each another and eventually made it to the front of your building. you turned to face her with a smile,“here i am,” you spoke softly to her, not wanting the night to come to an end.

“here you are, thank you for letting me take you home sweetheart, call it peace of mind,” she admitted.

“thank you for walking me els… do you want to come up?” you said without a thought. you didn’t know if this is was the alcohol talking but you know you didn’t regret it when you said it and you wish that’s what you could blame it on but you knew you wanted this even sober.

“if you want me to sweetheart” she smirked as she responded.

you stepped closer to her as you looked at her, only a couple inches away from her face, watching her eyes move from your eyes to your lips. you knew you both could feel the tension.

“please just say yes.” you sighed wishing you could feel her lips on yours already.

“okay sweetheart, lets go.” she pulled away but connected your hands and it took you a second to recognize that she agreed. you turned around, suddenly nervous about the fact that she’s going to see where you spend your days. you opened the door to the lobby, and ellie held the door as you both walked in. she followed you up the stairs by the front, and you made your way to the front door as you held ellie’s hand in one and used the other to pull your keys from your bag.

you unlocked the door and you brought ellie in with you before the door was shut and you were locking it. you took off her jacket and put it on your coat rack and turned to look at her.

“okay it’s kind of a mess so i’m sorry but-“ you started before she cut you off.

“sweetheart, your place is practically spotless, you should see mine.” ellie laughed.

you laughed as you pulled ellie over to the green couch that took up a lot of your living room but it was a dream purchase and you loved it. you told ellie to take a seat as you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed some water for you both. as you were walking back towards her, she was digging around in her backpack. as you placed the waters down and took a seat, she pulled out weed in a jar and handed it to you.

“here this is yours.” she said.

“oh thank you! i totally forgot, do you want to smoke now- fuck i don’t think i have anything to roll with.” you told her as you went to open the windows in your living room.

instead of saying anything, she reached back into her backpack and pulled out a jar of already rolled joints.

“i came prepared.” she laughed, “and you won’t owe me anything for that.” she said, motioning to the stuff she gave you as her hands were cracking open the jar of pre-rolls.

“ellie- no i’ll give you the cash,” but she shook her head no and brought the lighter to the joint between her lips.

“no, it’s on me, don’t worry about it.” she responded as she took a hit.

“do you give other people weed for free?” you asked, looking at her as she was smoking while sitting next to you on the couch. you wish you could stay like this forever.

“only pretty girls that i like…” she said sweetly as you held eye contact as she handed you the joint.

“oh so you think i’m pretty?” you teased her as you took a hit.

“sweetheart, i think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” she told you. you instantly blush and look away from her, trying not to choke on the smoke you held in your lungs.

“thank you els, i think you’re beautiful.” you said to her. when you looked up, you saw her cheeks tint lightly as she grabbed the joint you held out to her.

“thanks sweetheart.” she said as she put the joint down on a cup at the table you’d been using as an ashtray and she brought her hand up and held your cheek like she did earlier. you couldn’t help yourself as you nuzzled your face into her warm hand. your eye contact only made the tension in the room worse.

“you really are beautiful… sweetheart, can i?” she asked as she looked down at your lips. you nodded and as she came closer, your lips just barely brushing, as she asked, “i need to hear you pretty girl.”

“yes please els- please just kiss me already.” you begged.

her lips were on yours before you could even realized this was actually happening. your lips moved slow together at first but you couldn’t help yourself from deepening the kiss as ellie brought her other hand up and tangled it in your hair as you moaned, her tongue slipped into your mouth, both of you tasting the weed and alcohol you consumed.

one of your hand rested against her chest and the other gripping her arm as you melted into the kiss. both ellie’s hands were in your hair now as your tongues continued to fight for dominance but you let her win and moaned again and she swallowed it as she kissed you.

ellie pulled your leg over her lap so you straddled her, never breaking your lips apart. your lips continued to move in sync as you grinded against her. her hands on your hips moving with you. your lips stay connected until you broke the kiss to come up for air and rested your forehead on hers.

“you okay sweetheart?” ellie panted as she caught her breath too.

“yes els just need a second.” you said as your eyes stayed shut while you tried to control your breathing. you couldn’t believe that you guys finally kissed. the tension was killing you both and now it’s finally happened.

“hey it’s okay, take your time sweetheart.” ellie said as she rubbed a hand along your thigh at a comfortable pace, brushing the cloth from your shorts as she moved it. she brought the other one up to your cheek and lifted your head to look at you. you looked tired and ellie didn’t want to take full advantage of you after you guys had been drinking and smoking all night.

“hey sweetheart, lets get you to bed, we’ll finish this another time i promise.” she said sweetly as you mumbled an “okay els thank you,” and moved off her lap to sit back on the couch. ellie stood up and offered her hand. you stood up and walked both of you to your bedroom.

you moved to sit on the edge of your king sized bed and ellie stood in front of you still holding your hand as you asked her if she wanted to stay the night because it was late and you didn’t want her walking home.

“sure sweetheart i’ll sleep on the couch, and only for your peace of mind.” she chuckled, thinking back to the conversation earlier.

“els we can share the bed, it’s okay, i’ll keep my hands to myself.” you joked and she laughed.

“i don’t think i’d be complaining if you couldn’t but i’m okay on the couch.” ellie insisted.

“els please just lay with me.” you said looking up at her as she moved her hand to rest on your cheek again.

“okay sweetheart.” she finally agreed.

you smiled up at her and you took ellie’s hand from your face and guided her into the bathroom connected to your room. she watched as you bent down and opened the sink cabinet and grabbed a toothbrush. you turned around and handed it to her with a smile. you guys brushed your teeth and then went back into your bedroom.

ellie stood here as you moved across the room to your dresser, and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts from your drawer and handed them over to ellie. she told you thank you and you smiled at her. ellie walked into the bathroom to change and you walked back to the dresser. you stripped yourself of your shirt and bra before throwing on a different oversized tee and changing your underwear. you didn’t even realize you were soaked after what happened on the couch.

ellie watched you as she leaned against the bathroom door frame as you untangled the sides of your underwear after you pulled them up.

“you’re perfect”, she thought in head before speaking out loud. “thanks sweetheart.” you turned around when ellie spoke, sending her a smile before you moved to your side of the bed, you grabbed the duvet and moved it so you both were able to get in your bed.

you and ellie laid facing each other in a comfortable silence as you were both growing incredibly tired. you felt your eyes starting to get heavy and felt ellie’s hand brush your hair back from your face so you kept your eyes open to look at her.

“el?” you whispered.

“yes sweetheart?” she spoke quietly back to you.

“i really like you… i don’t know if this is too early but it just feels right.”

“i feel it too sweetheart, i like you too so don’t worry,” ellie said softly, hand still holding your face, “now get some sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning pretty girl.”

“goodnight els.” you whispered.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles. 

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.” 

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

.

.

.

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[airbendertendou]

a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3

anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)

please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

temperature irregulation ♥︎

hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.

it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.

“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”

you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”

hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”

[interrupted] routine ♥︎

every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.

you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.

connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.

you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.

stimming with pressure ♥︎

hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”

a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.

your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”

“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”

taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”

connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”

“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”

you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”

“i weigh quite a bit more than—”

“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”

maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.

you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.

sensory overload ♥︎

the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.

connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”

your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”

you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.

the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”

trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.

letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”

he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 

verbal shutdown ♥︎

it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.

the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.

you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.

none of them work.

when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”

you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”

a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”

a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”

you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎

“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”

that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.

you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”

you nod, “needed that. thank you.”

“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”

connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 

“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”

“had a nice dream.”

“hank is wearing yellow.”

“it’s such a pretty day today!”

“too much noise.”

“gavin cut his hair.”

you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”

connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”

you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”

the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.

——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Microwave

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : The Feeling - Lost Frequencies

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Synopsis: It’s way past midnight again. You’re feeling hungry and decide to warm up leftovers. You try to keep everything quiet, but you get bested by the goddamn microwave.

Word count: 1.136

Masterlist

More domestic Simon to keep me going in life.

It was another one of those nights. It’s 3 AM and you’re wide awake. You’re scrolling through your social media as Simon is happily snoring away next to you. Suddenly your stomach grumbles. You quickly cover your stomach so that it ‘quiets’ down, you didn’t want to wake Simon. You cringe at the loudness of your stomach. You turn over and glance at Simon, checking if he’s still asleep. Seeing that he’s still sleeping you let out a sigh of relief. You quietly and slowly climb out of bed. Widening your eyes when the bed creaks. You quickly whip your head to Simon. He stirs a little and turns over. You quickly place your pillow where you would be sleeping. He grabs it and pulls it closer to him. You snicker quietly before taking a picture with your phone. You’ll show him that in the morning.

You slip your feet in the fuzzy slippers that Simon bought you. You were complaining that your feet were always cold and you refused to wear socks when you didn’t have to go out. So, Simon bought you a pair of warm slippers so that you wouldn’t be cold anymore. You slowly get up, this time the bed spares you. You quietly shuffle out of the room and close the door gently behind you. Refusing to make any noise so you wouldn’t wake Simon. You make your way to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. You turn the tap on slightly, making a small stream of water. You splash some water on your face before turning the tap off and drying your face with a towel.

You head to the staircase, purposely avoiding the floorboards that are known to creak under weight. You quietly make your way down the stairs and turn the lights on. You walk towards the kitchen and open the fridge. You look at all of the items in your fridge, wondering what you should make. An idea pops up in your head. You still have some leftovers from tonight’s dinner. You’ll hear it up in the microwave and finish it. That way you save space in the fridge and you’ll have some easy food to make. You grab the plate with the leftovers and take off the aluminum foil. You open the microwave and gently put the plate in the machine. Not risking waking up Simon. You quietly close the microwave door and set a timer for two minutes.

While you wait, you quickly boil some water to make a cup of tea. You cringe slightly at the noise the kettle makes while boiling water. Everything sounds so much louder at midnight. Once the water is nice and hot you pour it into a mug. You’re about to take a sip when you abruptly stop. You panic as you hastily put the mug down and you check the microwave. You forgot to keep an eye on the timer. The noise the microwave makes when the timer goes off is horrendous, especially at midnight. Before you can even glance at the timer it makes a loud shrill sound. You tap on the button multiple times to turn it off, “come on, you shit thing. Turn off already.” You insult the microwave. As if it’s the bane of all your problems. It is currently but that’s beside the point.

Finally, you get the thing turned off. You stand there leaning against the kitchen counter and pinch the bridge of your nose, reflecting on what just happened. “For fucks sake.” You mutter quietly. That woke Simon up, you’re sure of it. You take the plate out of the microwave and put it down on the counter. As if on cue, you hear Simon running down the stairs. He’s holding a combat knife as he looks around the lit bottom floor. He analyses everything before sighing once he sees you in the kitchen, looking very guilty. He puts the knife down and walks up to you. “Bloody hell, I thought a bomb went off or something. But no, it’s only you making food again.” He jokes lightly. Finding this situation a little funny. You chuckle lightly, “sorry, love. Didn’t mean to wake you with a bomb scare.” He lets out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him. He kisses the top of your head before speaking. “It’s okay, lovie. Go on eat, you’re hungry again.” He leads the two of you to the counter where you place the plate. You grab a fork from the drawer and start munching away.

As you eat in silence. He’s watching you with a content smile. You stab the food with the fork and offer it to him. He chuckles but shakes his head, “no it's okay. You eat, ‘m not hungry.” You frown. You shove the fork closer to his mouth, “just one bite.” You say gently. He sighs but opens his mouth and lets you feed him. He chews on it and swallows. He smirks, “it’s cold now. You’ve learned from last time?” You groan as you’re reminded of your stupidity. “Oh come on! That was a one-time thing…” You grumble at his remark. You continue shoving forkfuls in your mouth with a pout resting on your lips. He smiles at you, “one-time thing or not. Once is already enough. Don’t want you hurting yourself around me, lovie.” You mutter an insult under your breath before grinning mischievously.

He looks at you warily, “what are you do-“ he tries asking before he gets interrupted with a mouthful of food. The fork is still hanging from his mouth. He stares at you in shock. You snicker at the sight of his dumbfounded look and the fork hanging from his mouth. You take out your phone and snap a picture. He quickly takes the fork out of his mouth, swallows the food, and tries to take the phone from you. “Delete that now!” He shrieks. You giggle as you continue turning your phone away from him. He smiles at your happiness. He knows he could overpower you easily, he’s SAS after all. But he doesn’t have the heart to do it, not after hearing your giggles. He huffs playfully and throws his arms in the air. “Fine! Don’t delete it.” He exclaims dramatically. You grin at him, finding this whole act of his amusing. He smiles before sighing and wraps his arms around you. “Now finish your food. I’m tired now and demand to go back to bed.” You give him a mock salute as you continue scarfing down your food. He shakes his head in amusement. He places a kiss on your cheek as you eat, content with holding you and swaying in the kitchen at 3 AM.

[visionarymode]

Winter Whispers

��� warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: roman reigns x female reader

✧ word count: 2,832

“God, it’s fucking freezing out there,” he breathed out as he shut the door behind him.

“Baby I told you to just leave it for tomorrow,” you sighed, getting up from the couch to walk over to him. Your jaw dropped at his bright red nose as he rubbed his hands together. He looked so cute all bundled up with his black beanie and thick jacket.

“Oh my god,” you giggled, still baffled that he wanted to go outside in this negative degree weather to shovel the snow. Yet he insisted that it wouldn’t be a big deal and he’d be quick. You grabbed his big, cold hands to wrap your own tiny, warm ones around them as you got on your tip toes to kiss him. His lips were so cold yet still so soft.

“Mm,” he hummed as he went in for seconds. “I feel warmer already…” he deeply mumbled against your lips making you lazily grin with your low eyelids focused on his own pearly whites.

“Let me get daddy some hot chocolate first,” you giggled as he playfully grabbed a handful of your ass.

You walked over to the kitchen counter and added whipped cream to both mugs and topped it off with some mini marshmallows and chocolate drizzle. You couldn’t help but stare at his gorgeous self as he cleared his throat, took off his jacket, and slicked back a few strands of hair falling in his face from his messy bun. He caught you looking and quickly steered your attention at the drinks in front of you as he licked his lips and ran his hand over his thick beard. You felt your cheeks flush as you heard him chuckle at your embarrassment. He got himself comfortable on the big couch as you grabbed both mugs and headed over join him.

“Thanks baby,” he smiled as he took a sip of the mug, dramatically fluttering his eyes as he licked the remaining whipped cream from his lips.

“Good huh?” you giggled, plopping your self next to him as you swung your legs over his lap.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as be took another sip, his other hand gently rubbing on your bare leg. His subtly eyed your exposed skin as be lowered the mug from his lips that he licked, watching you as you teasingly bent your knee and rocked it side to side making his gaze slowly peer up your entire body. You were wearing an oversized ugly christmas sweater with nothing but panties underneath and some long fuzzy socks.

“What?” you chuckled, as he raised his brows, a smirk creeping up on his lips. He loved your subtle yet scandalous little outfits you always put together.

Your eyes focused on his as you took a sip from your mug, purposefully letting some slip on your bottom lip. You wiped it with your thumb and laughed at his sudden tight, frustrated grip on your lower leg.

“Quit your little games and come sit on daddy’s lap…” he deeply ordered as he snaked his hand up your thigh. You placed your mug on the coffee table and obliged as you hopped on his lap. You heard him wince as he turned his body to set his own mug on the table.

“Are you okay?” you asked worriedly, furrowing your brows at his sudden pain.

“Yeah…my shoulders just a little sore from the shoveling,” he grunted, looking back up at you as he scratched his beard.

“Just a little?” you asked again, your tone slightly above a whisper as you softly smoothed your hands up and down his upper arms. You knew he was undermining how painful it really was, he was always one to not make you worry.

“Yes…just a little,” he not so convincingly reassured, pulling you in by your sweater to place a kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck allowing your foreheads to press together as he ran his hands up and down your back. He cupped the side of your face, keeping you close as he sensually took his time exploring your mouth with his thick, warm tongue.

“You’re still cold,” you whispered with a frown, feeling him shiver a little beneath you as his face still felt chilly.

“But…you’re helping…a lot,” he whispered back in between kisses. Your lips stayed connected on the last one, both of you transferring some extra love and lust towards the other as your fingers brushed his beard. He sniffled a little, making you hide your laugh at his still bright red nose.

“What?” he asked, playfully furrowing his brows as you played with his sweater strings.

“Your nose is so red. You look like Rudolph,” you teased with a giggle.

“Oh I’m Rudolph now?” he sarcastically asked with a deep tone, brushing strands of your hair out of your eyes.

“It’s cute though,” you reassured, your hands resting on the sides of his neck as you leaned in to kiss his chilled nose. You pecked it again as your thumbs softly swiped across his freckles sprawled under his eyes.

“It makes your freckles pop,” you softly spoke, kissing each freckled side. He wrapped both arms around you, pulling you as close to his chest as possible with another little grunt, and you knew it was once again from his soreness.

“I know you’re in pain,” you pulled back to whisper, running your hands up and down his biceps again as he lovingly gazed at your concern, his eyes crinkling from his smile.

“Sweetheart…I’m fine,” he reassured once again against your lips with his big, plump soft ones. You both exchanged about five short and audible kisses before you came up with your own offer.

“You sure? I could give daddy a little massage…” you bribed, trying to hide your taunting smile. You delicately and dedicatedly dug your fingers into his shoulders to show him a preview as he pleasingly inhaled from the temporary relief.

“Uh huh…” you mocked as he closed his eyes from the wonders of your fingers.

“That does feel good…” he pleasantly responded, his eyes still closed as he licked his lips.

“Mhm…a little massage…and a nice, hot shower will make daddy feel real good” you whispered as you snaked your hands down his chest and stomach, picking the hem black hoodie, reaching further underneath to pick at his long sleeve. Your little grind against his bulge got him to open those deep brown eyes of his as he bucked his hips in response.

“Oh yeah?” he deeply asked slightly above a whisper, his eyes fixated on your bare thighs as they slowly gazed up your body and eventually up your hungry, inviting eyes. He ran his big hands over your tiny body, cupping your breasts, a smirk creeping on his lips as his right hand found your cheek to cup it, pulling you down onto his laid body. You both moaned as your lips found each other, tongues enticingly swirling to savor each other’s sweet and cocoa taste.

“You’re so beautiful…” he groaned between kisses and head turns as he squeezed your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to rub against his hard on. You satisfyingly exhaled as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head to grab a handful of your hair to pull on, exposing your neck. He left sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw making you bite your lip as you felt your panties get wetter…and wetter…

“Mmm…” he deeply moaned as he slid his thick, warm tongue along your neck. A hushed gasp escaped your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, his large hand tightly squeezing your right ass cheek as you let yourself unapologetically ride his bulge.

“Roman…” you moaned his name as his lips audibly smacked against your sensitive skin.

“What sweetheart?” he asked as his hands smoothly ran up your lower back and around your hips to tightly grip them as he removed his lips from your neck to gaze up at your flushed face.

“Hm?” he pressured again, running his thumb across your glossy, wet bottom lip as your lost eyes never left his sinister ones.

“Wanna hit the shower with me?” he whisperingly asked as your lips naturally parted, allowing him to slowly slip his thumb inside and along your warm tongue, making you suck on it.

“Mhm,” you nodded with a not so innocent grin, his thumb fondling with your lip again as he flashed his own pearly whites. You yelped as he suddenly scooped you up into his arms. Your legs naturally wrapping around his torso, giggling as he spanked you while heading up the stairs.

“You can put me down I don’t wanna make your shoulders worse,” you expressed in worry again as he kissed his teeth in disagreement. He placed you on the counter, gently grabbing you by the throat as your lips brushed together.

“Stop…worrying…about my body…and let me fuck yours,” he growled. You practically moaned watching him slowly and torturously take off his shirt, exposing his tanned, tatted, and muscular body. You slipped off your own sweater, exposing your black laced bra and panties while he turned on the water on.

“You’re so perfect…you know that?” he softly asked once he turned back around, keeping his fascinated and loving eyes on you, tilting your chin up with his finger while the other one found your back to unclip your bra. It fell in your lap before he snatched it and threw it on the floor making you grin against his lips. Your legs clutched to his waist as he easily scooped you back up in his arms. You both exchanged a slow kiss, smiling against each others lips as he stepped inside the shower. You couldn’t help but feel guilty about him continuously carrying you with his sore muscles but he instantly made you forget as his tongue wrestled yours. You got lost in his juicy and wet lips and forgot you were even under the running shower by how quickly you both got wet. You gasped as he dropped you down and spun you around without warning, grabbing your hands to place on the wall as he pressed the tip of his dick between your ass cheeks. He held both of your hands up above your head with his left hand, the right one hooking right under your panties to feel your wet lace.

“Baby…” you moaned as he left sloppy kisses down your back, his hands roaming around your curves as he knelt on the floor. You felt his hands grope your ass cheeks, the sudden poke of his teeth on your skin as he held the hem of your laced panties with his teeth, sliding them off as you lifted each leg to help him.

“Good girl…” he muttered with the lace still between his teeth, smacking your ass again as you turned around at the sight. You bit your lip, lovingly gazing up at his tall figure, soaked in water as it dripped down his body…making you snatch the panties between his teeth and throwing it over the rod. His lips found your neck again, making your eyes flutter as your right hand reached below to stroke his slippery, hard, and tanned dick in your palm.

“You wet for daddy?” he moaned in your ear, his two middle fingers sliding up and down between your sticky, slick folds making you gasp from his touch.

“Yes…” you whined as he slowed down the pace of his slithering fingers between your folds, teasing his long middle one against your hole. His dick was rock hard against your belly as he grabbed your throat with his other free hand, keeping a tight grip on your neck while that thumb and forefinger toyed with your jaw.

“Please…” you begged with a gasp as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of you.

“Hm?” he taunted, placing his wet lips on yours. You panted between the slippery kisses as you nodded, hoping he’d fulfill your begging needs.

He removed his finger to slide it against his tongue, enclosing his lips around it as he tasted your needy, sweet juices. He picked you up and pinned you against the dripping wall, his left arm wrapped around your lower back as his right grabbed his dick.

“I got you baby girl…” he cooed with a reassuring, sexy nod as he dragged his streaming tip along your soaked entrance making your mouth drop open. He dragged it in vertical strokes a couple times before slipping his entire length inside of you with ease, making you both moan at the familiar and pleasureful reunion. He started with nice, slow, easy thrusts as you both moaned against each others tongues. You jerked in his arms, struggling to stay still as your legs tightened around his waist.

“Feel good baby?” he groaned, the fast droplets of water falling between his lips as he spoke, pulling you right back in between them as you bit his soaked bottom lip.

“Yes…fuuuuuck,” you cried out with a gasp, his thrusts intensifying, the sound of his doused balls slapping against your wet skin growing louder, and the parting of his mouth widening from his gratifying bliss watching you in pleasure.

“Like that sweetheart? You like daddy’s dick?” he moaned as his hand slid over your drizzling thigh and around your ass to spank it.

“Y-Y-Yesyesyes…” you loudly moaned, your left arm sliding off his neck to cup the right side of his wet and glistening bearded face. Water dripping down his dampened strands of hair and parted lips as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your head fell back to the wall for a split second before a new wave of warm, shocking pleasure sparked your lower belly making your head fall forward onto his forehead. He slid his tongue into your mouth to get another whine out of you as he subtly slowed down his thrusts.

“You gon’ cum sweetheart? You gon’ cum for daddy?” he deeply whispered yet was so audible over the loud drops of water from the shower head and your wet bodies smacking against each other. He held you tight as he took a step back to get you both covered right underneath the water, slapping your right ass cheek.

“Yes daddy…” you gasped as he picked you further up against the wall, slowly sliding you back down the tiles at the same pace of his tongue as it licked you between your middle breast bone and back up to your neck as his dick slipped right back in you. You felt like you were seeing stars as your eyes fluttered uncontrollably, your breasts bouncing frantically against his soaked and tatted chest, and his moans filling your ear as he pumped his length in and out of your overstimulated pussy.

“I-I-I’m gonna cum,” you moaned with heavy pants as the his grip around your body and left thigh tightened. You felt your walls contract around his throbbing dick, his thrusts quickening by the millisecond. Your eyes struggled to stay open, the water hurriedly dripping down your fluttering eyelashes.

“Cum with me sweetheart…cum all over daddy’s dick,” he coached you as his heavy grunts heightened. Watching him soaked, in pure bliss, and hearing him call you your favorite name sent you right over the edge as you shut your eyes with one last loud and high pitched moan as your orgasm took complete control. He thrusted one last time inside of you, keeping his dick deep inside your gushing walls as his own warm and creamy cum filled you up. Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck and both of your heavy breathing slowed down to peaceful ones as he removed a couple wet strands of your bangs out of your face.

“I love you…” you whispered against his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, a smile spreading across those dripping lips.

“I love you more sweetheart,” he confessed with a passionate kiss, slowly dropping you back down to the floor, both of his thumbs still cradling the sides of your face.

“Real shower time?” you asked with a giggle. He nodded as he flashed his pearly whites, using his right hand to move his hair out of his face.

“Real shower time. C’mon now…” he teasingly ordered as he ran his fingers through your hair, grabbing your shampoo with his other hand.

“No…you first. Your body needs a break,” you tried grabbing the bottle out of his hand but he snatched it away.

“Break?” he asked with a chuckle. He poured some into his hands, lathering it up as he rubbed them together.

“Baby-”

“Baby…” he cooed back as he interrupted, spinning you around by the waist as he started massaging your scalp with the shampoo.

“We gonna get cleaned up….and then I’m gonna make this pretty pussy cum all over again once we done.”

✧✧✧✧✧

thank you so much for reading! <3 I hope y’all enjoyed it ✨ happy holidays ✨

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[totaly-obsessed]

Mess of a Mind

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia's life is much more chaotic with you and your ADHD - but she wouldn't change it for a thing

-> Based on my daily struggles in life

-> reader has ADHD

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The moment Alexia received a text from you that read ‘I’m gonna clean’ – she already knew that she was coming home to a bigger mess than before.

Your ADHD makes cleaning things much more complicated than they need to be. But you were sick of being useless in the house. Because with Ale being at training most days and you still in university you were definitely the one in the relationship with more time on their hands. And while your girlfriend definitely didn’t expect you to do everything in the house, helping out with some chores would be nice.

But there it is.

The dreaded word ‘chores’. As soon as something fell under the category, you were all of a sudden unable to do that.

Alexia had asked you to put the trash outside one morning before leaving for training – which you were going to do anyway. But now, that it was your chore? No chance. The blonde came home to no trash outside, but a mess on the inside.

But you didn’t do nothing. In fact – you were quite productive. All of the possible trashcans that were placed around your house were now labeled their respective contents in hand-placed crafting diamonds. Nala lying by your side, nose stuck into the front pocket of your (Alexia’s) Hoodie.

The moment you saw fuzzy socks standing in front of you, was when you realized that you were supposed to take the trash outside. You hadn’t even heard her come in. Ale however wasn’t mad at you, she could see that you had vacuumed the entire house, as well as unloaded the dishwasher. As always you had left the last item on top of the kitchen aisle when your brain was already finished with the task, when in actuality there was still something left.

“Hola bebe. What are you doing?”

It was moments like these that you realized how much of a saint your girlfriend really was. Mapi, like the curious cat she was, peeked at her friend’s phone – wondering what she had seen that had her face all scrunched up. “What did your Roomba text you now – huh?”

Yeah. Roomba.

That’s what your girlfriend’s teammates called you after Lucy had compared you to one. Not because you were Ale’s live-in maid, but because her captain had once come home after a meeting, to a mess of a living room. Loads of different craft projects everywhere. And after following the trail of abandoned projects and broken dreams, she saw you. Stuck in the corner – panicking like a Roomba who can’t get back to its loading station. Lucy and Keira had both been there when Ale found you. That is how your nickname was born.

“She said that she was going to clean up.” Alexia tried to ignore her best friend laughing at your plans – knowing what happened the last time. But upon arriving at your shared house – you were nowhere to be found.

As expected there was chaos everywhere.

The vacuum was lying on the ground, directly next to the coffee table – at least it wasn’t running. Or rather what was left of the said table – two legs were missing, both on the same side, so now it was lopsided, and a once-filled coffee cup was lying on the rug, its filling now spilled on the carpet. The mug must have slid down the table, once it missed its legs.

Approximately every bowl that your kitchen holds placed on the counters, is filled with various things. The footballer recognized the ingredients to your favorite cake. The bathroom mirror was still covered in cleaning spray – apparently, you forgot to wipe it off.

She had already changed at taken a seat on the couch when she heard the front door open and your muttering once you entered. “Hola Ale!”

“Hola mi amor.”

“Oh god! What happened here?” The blonde throned on her usual corner of the couch in the midst of the chaos, Nala in her lap – both of them looking at you with curious eyes, wondering what you would do. “I don’t know what happened – it looked like this when I came home.”

Both of you knew that it could not have been Nala, the tiny dog did not have thumbs to turn on the vacuum.

Once the stain caught your eye – you remembered everything. “Oh right! I was vacuuming and then I hit the coffee table, but it wobbled so it was broken, so I had to fix it! Then the mug slid down the table, it spilled all over the carpet! So I went to the kitchen to grab paper Towles!”

This was better than any TV show Alexia could have watched – she was not mad. “And the cake in the kitchen?”

“Oh! You are right!” You were now following your own mess as if you were a detective discovering a crime scene. “I went to grab the paper towels to blot the stain – then I remembered that I wanted to make a cake – but I spilled milk. So, I went to grab toilet paper to clean up.”

Alexia, Nala and you were now standing in the bathroom, a foamy mirror laughing at you. “Right, and then I sprayed the mirrors, but I had no towels to wipe it off, so I went to the store!”

Now you had solved the crime – your main suspect? Yourself.

Alexia could not help but laugh at your satisfied facial expression once you came to your conclusion. After packing away your shopping you realize that you had gotten everything aside from why you had gone in the first place. “Why did I want paper towels again?”

Your girlfriend did not answer you. She was leaning against the fridge, muscular arms crossed in front of her and she just stared at you. A soft smile on her lips. “Ale?”

After planting a soft kiss on your forehead, she led you to the living room. “The stain, bebita.”

“Oh! You are right!” Without hesitating you dropped to your knees in front of the still-wet stain. No wonder there, but before Alexia could react, you had pulled your shirt off and thrown it on the coffee – blotting the stain.

The blonde pulled you up by your elbows “Oh baby. Could’ve used a towel.” You looked like a bratty kid, being held up by your girlfriend while you tried to get the stain away. “Oh right! We do not have paper towels; I will go and get some!”

The Barcelona player set you down on the couch as gently as she could “No mi Corazón. You already went out.” She was gentle and sweet and ever so patient as she helped you tidy your mess.

It was late when you finished, your brain now tired from running at 180km/h the entire day – so Alexia decided to order takeout. It took her twenty minutes to figure out what you wanted to choose from her suggestions because your very low attention span sprang from the TV to Nala, to your book, and then to the still very-much-there stain.

Ale had to take you to your shared bedroom, sit you on the bed, and kneel in front of you – one hand holding both of yours in front of your chest, the other holding your face so that you could not avoid her eyes.

But finally, you had settled on Pasta. She even figured out which one you wanted.

Once it arrived both of you carried the things you needed from the now clean kitchen to the couch, sitting down ready to eat.

Or at least that was the plan.

While Ale already started eating, you realized, that you missed something. “Oh, I need a freakin’ fork.” And with that you had stood up again, wandering to the kitchen and while you came back with a fork, you just stood in front of the couch.

Ale watched closely as your eyes drifted off. “I need to get my sauce.” And *poof* you were gone again.

You returned with said sauce and sat down again. Ale already saw what was coming, holding onto your plate that wobbled when you stood up with force, throwing your hands up in the sky. “Freaking fork!”

Fork in one hand, water in the other, you came back. Before setting both items down on the table, you looked at your girlfriend – “Would you like some water as well baby?” The older woman nodded, she appreciated that you thought of her while your brain was driving you insane. “That would be nice, thank you corazón.” 

She felt bad seeing you walk away with both water and your fork in hand, but she didn’t want to stop you, in fear that you would think that you were stupid, not being able to get everything you needed. So, she let you be.

Alexia even waited patiently as you sang in the kitchen for five minutes, before coming back with two water glasses, handing her the one you had already taken a sip out of. “Did you take my fork?”

“No baby. I think you left it in the kitchen.”

“No, I didn’t, I put my fork here.” Instead of showing her a specific place, you just plainly pointed to the entire table. But there was no second fork – so you went back again returning victoriously with a fork.

A deep sigh left your body after finally sitting down next to your girlfriend again. “What happened to your water?”

After bringing it up, Alexia felt bad. Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers massaging your temple where an annoying headache would surely be forming.

“I left it.”

Now you had everything. Food, fork, water, your girlfriend, Nala, and your favorite TV show.

You were incredibly hungry by now but after taking a bite, you let your fork fall into your pasta. “My food is cold now.” Without saying anything, Ale stood up and heated it back up for you.

Later that night you were finally lying in bed, Alexia’s hand rubbing your back, cooing in your ear. “Today was hard for you huh, bebita?” Soft kisses were littered all over your face and neck, the blonde smiling after being able to get a smile out of you.

“Tomorrow will be better.” While your ADHD could be frustrating, Alexia would never be angry at you for doing certain things or not doing them – she was just so happy to have you.