#and the jackets are warm and comfy as hell

[captaincowabunga]

Caitvi head canons!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

-Caitlyn is a dog person, Vi is a cat person IDCCC

-Continuing on Vi being a cat person. She’ll go on walks in the evenings when the piltover streets are perfectly uncrowded and quiet besides the sudden “meow!” coming from a dark alley way. Safe to say she doesn’t hesitate to grab it, wrap it up in her jacket, and take it home with her.

“Cait! Look what I found~”

-Meanwhile Cait will be peacefully relaxing on her couch with her two big and elegant dobermans, sighing as she takes another sip of her tea

“Vi…You’ve brought home four this week. We can’t keep having this conversation…”

-Cait took notice in Vi’s love for books and reading and despite the kiramman mansion already having a wide selection of books, she still continues to collect more for Vi just incase. She’ll roam the variety of markets and libraries on the streets and always finds herself at the book section, wondering which ones Vi might like and always ends up taking home at least one for her girlfriend.

-Caitlyn is a skincare girlie while Vi is a makeup girlie.

-I honestly think Vi would actually be doing Caitlyn’s makeup a lot more. sharing eyeshadow tips and lipsticks she likes. Sure she’s masculine but in the show Vi wears a lot more makeup than Caitlyn does. In fact I don’t really think Caitlyn would wear any unless for big events (which is when she would ask for help and let Vi do her makeup)

-That being said, Vi is AWFUL at going to bed with a clean face. The girl loves her eyeshadow and lipstick and will put it on every morning before leaving the house with Caitlyn for their duties as enforcers. She’ll come home exhausted, stripping herself of her uniform and plop down on the nice clean sheets with a full face.

“Vi! Wash your face off before you ruin the pillow covers. You’ll stain them!”

-Vi just huffs, refusing to move from her comfy nest of blankets and soft, cool sheets. Caitlyn groans, stomping off to the bathroom and returning with a wet rag, cleaning Vi’s face off for her. Caitlyn acts frustrated, mumbling a lecture about staining the covers or Vi getting a breakout knowing Vi wasn’t listening. But deep down, she loved their little routine and cleaning Vi’s face off before bed for her.

-Caitlyn is a yapper. A big yapper. It’ll be late at night or the crack of dawn and she’s sitting next to Vi rambling on and on and on about whatever she’s hyper fixating on (my autistic princess) She doesn’t know when to shut up when it comes to her special interests. Vi loves it though. Even if she’s half asleep she’ll be listening with a soft smile, her heart warm with the fact that she has the privilege of getting to listen to that pretty voice and smooth accent every day from morning to night.

-They rarely actually argue and more so just bicker like an old married couple (they’re ready for that ring yall) It’s never something THAT serious when they “argue”

-I think Vi is a lot more organized than Cait. She feels like she physically can’t breath if theres a tiny mess. She was the oldest sibling always having to clean up after powder or mylo or something and that carried on into a habit. Meanwhile Caitlyn never really had to worry about a mess growing up. She always had people cleaning up after her.

“Caitlyn, what the actual hell.”

Vi would bluntly say when she walks in on Caitlyn trying to solve a crime mystery or smth. she stands in front of a pile of files and notes crumbled up on the floor in the middle of their living room. Cait just turns her head, looking up at Vi with those pretty puppy eyes as she sits on the floor, tapping her pen innocently

“Wot?”

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[evieelyzabethh]

"taste"

☆"you're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin', my body's where they're at"☆ Wearing Arcane characters clothes {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, a bit of fluff, Viktor calls reader a whore, a bit suggestive for all of them

an: this is the case for all my titles, but I feel I should clarify; the songs are not meant to accompany the headcanons, I just get lazy when naming things so I cherry pick song lyrics then use the title lol.

♞Vi♞

♞Vi never thought she would have to worry about her clothes going missing. They're all tattered and torn, holey from all the times she's been cut or stabbed, blood stained from all her injuries throughout the years, and absolutely falling apart at the seams. Hell, her own shirts are so ruined she usually just walks around in chest binding bandages. Granted, stealing Vi's clothes started from an accident of convenience.

You didn't think anything of it as you slipped on the old thing, the writing so faded you could no longer make out the outlines of the letters and the color so sun-bleached it just looked a dull beige. There were holes along the shoulder blade, rib cage, and chest, the hems had long since unraveled, and the neckline had been cut. It Vi wasn't so averse to throwing things out, it's home would've been the garbage can ages ago. But still, it was comfy and clean and something of hers, so you pulled it over your head and carried on into the laundry room where you sat on top of your washing unit, vibrating along with the clunky machine beneath you. You decided to read as you wait, eventually become so engrossed with your book, you miss the sounds of Vi trudging her heavy feet across the floor as she returns from her most recent bout of getting her ass kicked. She hums her way around the space, painfully shrugging her jacket over her aching shoulders, enroute to the laundry room where she finds you, ankles crossed with some old mystery book in your hands. She gawks at you for a moment, not quite knowing what to say at the sight of you in her clothing. It looked good on you. Well, everything looked good on you, but this looked right. "Did you get all dressed up for me, pretty? You jump a bit at the sudden intrusion of her slightly gravelly voice, but eventually relax into her warm, musky presence. She knows how you feel about her smearing her bloody lips across your freshly showered skin, so she bites her lip to swallow her urges. "Depends, did you get yourself all battered just so I could patch you up?" She snickers, wiping the remnants of dried blood from her top lip. "Will my honest earn me a pre-shower kiss?" Of course, you nod your head. You have a very hard time denying her, not even bothered by the feeling of her gauze bound hands grip on your thighs and your skin beneath her shirt. She whimpers, leaning heavily onto the washer, her fingers likely leaving marks from how desperately she grabs at you for stability and her own sanity. She doesn't realize until the adrenaline wears off how much tonight did a toll on her, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head on your shoulder. "You need help to the shower?" "Yeah", she murmurs, hardly louder than a whisper, holding onto your waist as you hop down and sling your arm over her shoulder. "No more pit fighting for a while?", you question lightly, to which she responds by pulling a hefty bag of coins from her pants pocket. "Not for a few months."

★Ekko★

★Ekko has a commune, he is absolutely no stranger to sharing, especially when it comes to clothes. As many times as you have snuck a few of his jackets over the years, he has taken his fair share of your tops, liking the way they constrict and show the definition of his biceps and show off his sculpted lower abdomen. You swap rings, hair ties, and all sorts of accessories, it's another way that you two are visually all over each other. I also wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to buy things knowing they would eventually end up in your closet.

★This being said, you would have better luck getting a reaction out of him showing up wearing nothing rather than in his clothes, at least clothes that aren't important to him. He's so desensitized to the idea of sharing; a regular hoodie wouldn't get him going. Wearing something of his though, his jacket, his mask, replicating how he does his face paint, that would certainly get him. It's the explicit connection to him that gets him, it's you proudly wearing an echo of Ekko.

It was cold and wet and dreary. The sky was grey, and murky puddles formed in the innumerable cracks and crevasses in the dirty floor of the Undercity that the ground began to look like a muddy sea of water. It was the perfect day to be inside, maybe make some warm soup, put on a vinyl and pretend the crackley sound bites are early lightning bolts, and bundle up beside Ekko and call it a day before the sun went down. This was not the case as Ekko was out covering the gardens so they wouldn't be flooded by impure water and preparing for any potential storm surge, leaving you home alone, wrapped in his favorite jacket. You doubted it would be a big deal, it's not like he's ever been upset about borrowing his clothes without asking before, but his reaction when he returns home scares you for a moment. His eyes are closed as he walks through the door, carelessly toeing off his shoes, lifting up his already soaked shirt to wipe the running face paint before it gets into his eyes. From your place on the couch, you look out the window for the first time in hours to see it pouring down, the droplets pelting on your windows and the wind sending the occasional pebble flying at the glass. "I'm telling Scar to do this shit next time, it's too damn w- oh." He freezes, midway through yanking off his raincoat, eye's slightly irritated as they stare at you. oh? "Is that my jacket?" You falter a bit. "Yeah...is that ok?" You had no plans of going out in it, wearing only some old cotton shorts whose elastic waistband snapped years ago and a thin tank top. You didn't even have a bra on. He collects himself though, smirking as he looks you up and down, how good the color compliments your complexion, drinking in the slivers of skin, the sight of your nipples through your top. Of course it's ok, in what fucking world would it not be? "Yea, baby, it's fine." His mumbles, his voice lower and his eyes a bit wide. "You look good in it, too. C'mere, do a spin for me."

❂Jayce❂

❂This man is 6'7 and built like a brick shithouse, his clothes absolutely swallow you and he thinks it's adorable. He gets a fit of cuteness aggression, he just wants to squeeze and hug and kiss you until you pop. It speaks to that part of him that is quite aware of his sheer size, his biceps are the size of your head, you have to look up just to make eye contact with him, his clothes practically fall right off you. He's just so...big.

He awakes slightly startled and feeling empty, immediately feeling your lack of warmth in his arms and slightly panicking. It's too early in the morning to be rational and his frequent nightmares are doing him no favors. He hates waking up alone and cold, he feels like he's waking up in that cave again. His senses calm his rapidly beating heart, the comforting smell of coffee and something syrupy sweet, the sound of something sizzling on the stove. He throws the comforter off him, cringing at the feel of the cold floor on his feet before he throws on some socks and sweatpants to wander around half-asleep in. His brain short circuits when he sees you, his large shirt practically hanging off your shoulders, flowing around your bruised and kiss-bitten thighs. You moved lithely around the kitchen, going back from chopping strawberries for the waffles, stirring the eggs, flipping the bacon, and he's man enough to admit he's blushing a bit. You made breakfast for him! That's so cute. He slides behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, bending down to plant kisses on your neck. "My shirt looks really good on you, gorgeous." You giggle, turning around to face the big man behind you who picks you up by your hips to set you on the countertop, settling in between your thighs. "You think?" He hums. "Maybe a few sizes too big, but it's endearing. You look like a little fairy, like I could carry you around in my pocket all day." And his eyes are big and out of focus, that charming gap-toothed smile on display as his hands rub over your smooth skin, pushing his shirt higher and higher. Too big is certainly a familiar sentiment, how desperately you were crying that out just last night is still looping in his brain as he says it. "Maybe I'm normal sized, and you're just a giant. Have you ever thought of it that way?" He chuckles. More times than you can imagine.

☽Viktor☾

☽Hard immediately, next question. His work outfits look completely normal on him, but the buttons pop at your chest and the vests accentuate them in a way that's pornographic. Even his ties only serve to enhance the fantasy, even though they are the exact garments he wears to his lab every day. There is nothing innately sexual about it at all, but that's the fun of it. The fact thar you chose to wear that black lacy bra that you knew would show through the top, the way you wear his reading glasses low on your nose, the red bottom heels that you wear, which in any other context could be seen as perfectly appropriate work attire. It's the performance of it that he appreciates.

He knows exactly what game you are trying to play with him, no matter how hard you try and play coy. There is no way that you accidently shrunk your blouse in the wash, hell, he knows that's not your blouse because the buttons are on the wrong side for it to be female attire. He knows that's his tie, he is one thousand percent sure that if he was to yank you by it and check the underside, he would see his initials embroidered. He knows you left it loose on purpose, you have requested for the entire relationship to pick out and tie his ties for him, he knows you can make it tighter. Everything is utterly loose, for lack of a better word. The top button is undone, the tie isn't completely tucked under the collar, the slit of your skirt is not where it should be. It's a play at looking professional that you and him both know is just a test to see how long it takes for him to crack and rush you both home. At first, he's willing to play ball because you always crack first, but today, however, you decided to be serious about your productivity. He tries to focus, he really does, but after a while the clicking of your heels becomes too hypnotic, the fake attempts at adjusting your tie begin to pile onto the sexual frustration, and you lean over one too many times, giving him a good whiff of your perfume and oh you went with a red bra to match his red tie. He waits for Jayce to leave the room, slamming the book he was 'reading' shut as he lets out a very aggravated breath. "I want my shirt back." Cut and dry, his hand flipping the tie you're wearing to confirm that is indeed his. You smirk, and he would feel the need to wipe it off your face had it not been for the fact that he swallowed his pride hours ago after his hard on became too much to ignore. "You want it back now? Right here." And you're already slipping off the other buttons and he contemplates whether it's worth it to barricade the door with the table to buy you more time or be rational and tell you to stop. "Had I known you planned on being a whore today, I wouldn't have invited you over." You pout as he pulls the knot of his tie, grabbing your hands to bind your hands. "But don't I look pretty, Vik?" He rolls his eyes. "You look magnificent, love."

☼Mel☼

☼Like Ekko, she isn't a stranger to sharing clothes with you. Even if it's not hers, she has an exact replica tailored just for you. This being said, she loves playing dress up with you with her clothes. Anytime she needs to clear out her closet or has an article of clothing she doesn't know how to feel about or just gets bored, she'll call you to wherever she is and request you be her doll for a little bit.

Though you had been in Mel's closet for what had to have been hours at this point, you couldn't really complain. Never had you felt more pampered in your life, tens of gowns, trousers, and blouses gracing your skin as you twirled on the platform in Mel's closet as she analyzed the garment from every angle. Now you stood in something white and flowy, the sleeves long, the bodice double lined for winter weather, the hemline off the shoulders and trimmed with fur, the bottom thick and heavy. "What do you think lovey? Do you think it's too on the nose, you know I've never been the biggest fan of fur." Her hand feels across your chest, dusting off where some of the fluff had fallen and rubbing the soft material in her hands. "I don't see you in fur, it's too much of your mother's thing, but I do think it's nice. The lining is really nice on the skin, sorta has a fleece feel to it." She nods, moving her hands along your waist to connect with the silver zipper. She clucks her tongue. "Would I be silly to not wear it because the zipper isn't gold. I know it's a miniscule detail, but I really don't do silver." You chuckle as you look around her closet, a room larger than the bedroom you grew up in filled with racks of clothes that had some sort of golden sheen, be it from the color of the fabric, some sort of metallic accent, or a reflection from the general vibe of the room. "My love, you have so many clothes in here I doubt you would wear it regardless." She smiles. "Are you getting tired of this." You hesitate, which is plenty answer enough for her. You had been standing for hours at this point, and your back was starting to ache from how straight your back had been. "Do you have it in you for just one more. I promise, it'll be quick." She already has it out of the box, a very small party dress that you had never seen her wear before. "I bought it months ago but have been going back and forth between whether or not it would look better on me or you." Of course, you oblige, and she giggles as she zips you out of the dress, carefully sliding it off until the fabric pools around your nearly naked body. Her tunnel vision is briefly abandoned as her movements slow, lingering over the curves of her body, her fingernail tracing tiny hearts on the skin of your chest. "I know I say this every time, but you truly do look beautiful out of everything. Undressing you may be my favorite part of this." You playfully roll your eyes. "Stop being a flirt and just zip me into the dress, I want lunch."

[bibli0thecary]

first (family) date ౨ৎ

pairing: baker! joel miller x reader

In a world with no outbreak, Joel Miller runs a popular bakery—grumpy, flour-dusted, and way too serious about sourdough. His daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are either helping or causing chaos behind the counter.

Then there’s you—a stressed-out grad student who starts doing your thesis in his cozy café. You only came for the pastries… and the baker.

read more: baker! joller miller series

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You weren’t sure what you expected when Joel wanted to go on a date with you. 

Something lowkey, probably. Coffee, maybe. Or dinner at that diner he swears makes “a pie that'll fix your whole week.”

What you didn’t expect… was to be nervous.

Like, really nervous.

Because it wasn’t just a casual hangout anymore. This was A Date. Capital D. And while Joel Miller had been orbiting your life in a deliciously confusing state of almost-boyfriendness for months, now it was real. No more dancing around it. No more hiding behind scones and thesis deadlines.

You spent way too long picking an outfit. He texted you, “Wear somethin’ comfy. Might be a walk.” Which somehow made you feel like you were starring in a Nora Ephron movie and your stomach was a mix of sparkles and doom.

By the time he picked you up, you were half-convinced you were dreaming.

Joel, in that flannel jacket you liked, opened the truck door for you like it was second nature.

“You look…” He paused. Swallowed. “Real pretty.”

And that was it. Your brain short-circuited.

You thanked him, climbed in, and let him drive. The tension was the good kind. The kind that thrummed low in your chest, the kind that said, finally, finally, finally.

You expected him to take you into the city. Maybe somewhere fancy.

Instead, he drove you to a quiet lookout spot just outside town. One with a view of the hills, wide skies, and a food truck parked nearby that served wood-fired pizza, twinkly lights strung around the trees.

Your heart melted on sight.

“I figured,” he said, a little awkward, “less pressure. More food.”

“Joel,” you breathed. “This is perfect.”

He looked relieved. “Good. I haven’t done this in… hell, I don’t even know how long.”

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Been too busy writing and panicking.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like hell.”

You both ordered (he insisted on paying, you half-argued and then let him), and soon you were sitting on a blanket, pizza box between you, two steaming paper cups of hot cider in your hands. The conversation flowed easier than you expected. You talked about everything and nothing, laughed, teased, let your knees touch without pulling away.

It was perfect.

Right up until—

“Is this what a date looks like?” “Oh my god, is that cider? I love cider.”

You turned just in time to see Sarah and Ellie emerging from the tree line like smug little goblins, both wrapped in oversized jackets, Ellie holding a phone like she’d just documented your first kiss (which—thankfully—had not happened yet).

Joel groaned. “Girls—”

“You weren’t subtle,” Sarah said, sitting right down beside you like this was a family picnic. “I tracked your location. Sorry not sorry.”

Ellie flopped on the other side of Joel. “We waited a whole hour before crashing. That’s restraint.”

You blinked. “So this is… a family date now?”

Sarah winked. “Get used to it.”

Joel looked somewhere between mortified and fond. “Remind me to change my damn phone settings.”

But you were laughing now, because somehow this made sense. Joel, the baker with a warm heart buried under grumpy flannel layers, would absolutely have two daughters who thought “date night” meant “group bonding.”

You looked at Joel, catching the quiet apology in his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” you said softly. “It’s… kinda nice. Us, together.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him the whole world in a sentence.

You shared a cider, passed pizza slices back and forth. The stars blinked overhead. Ellie roasted Joel for the way he almost tripped over his words complimenting you. Sarah declared herself Joel’s “date night stylist” going forward. And you?

You leaned into Joel’s side, warm and full and strangely, beautifully content.

It wasn’t the perfect, quiet first date you imagined.

It was better.

Because it wasn’t just you and Joel.

It was all of you.

────୨ৎ────

He walked you to your door like a damn teenager.

Hands in his jacket pockets. Shoulders stiff. Heart doing that annoying fast beat it hadn’t done since—hell, maybe ever.

You looked up at him with that warm smile, a little shy, a little knowing. Your cheeks were pink from the cold. Your hands were wrapped around that thermos he insisted you take home. The one he filled with extra cider. The one he pretended wasn't a pathetic excuse to keep a piece of this night with you.

“I had fun,” you said softly, stopping at your door.

Joel cleared his throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

“You sure? You got ambushed by your kids and lost three slices of pizza.”

He chuckled. “Cost of doin’ business.”

You stared at him for a moment—eyes soft, expression unreadable. “You’re really not gonna kiss me, are you?”

Joel blinked. “I—what?”

You stepped closer. “You brought me cider. You looked nervous all night. And you’ve been giving me this look for months.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I want to kiss you but I’m gonna die before I admit it’ look.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

You raised a brow.

“I just…” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Wanted it to be right.”

You looked up at him like he was being ridiculous.

“I am right here,” you said. “And so are you.”

Joel swallowed.

And then, finally, finally, he reached out. One warm, rough hand cradled your cheek, the other curled around your waist like muscle memory. And when you leaned in—soft, sure, like you’d known exactly how this would feel—he kissed you.

Gentle at first. Careful. Like he didn’t want to break it.

But then your fingers slid up into his hair, and something in him unraveled.

It deepened.

Slow, warm, desperate in that way that tasted like months of unsaid things and stolen glances and every damn cinnamon roll you ever asked for. Your lips fit his like they were always meant to. Like his hands were always meant to find your waist and yours were meant to hold him like that.

When you finally pulled back—cheeks flushed, lips pink, eyes wide—he just stared.

And then came the very loud sound of a car horn.

Joel turned his head sharply to find his truck idling across the street, headlights blinking.

And inside?

Sarah, grinning so wide her face might split. Ellie, pumping her fists out the window like her team just won the Super Bowl.

You laughed, head falling gently against his chest. “Are they seriously—”

“They been waitin’ for this longer than us,” Joel muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple despite himself.

“I guess we passed the test.”

He held you for a moment longer, just breathing you in.

“Still,” he murmured, “I’ll do it again tomorrow. Just to be sure.”

You grinned up at him. “Good. But next time? No teenage chaperones.”

Joel chuckled low in his chest. “Deal.”

₊˚⊹♡

thank you for reading! if i miss anyone on the taglist, please let me know ;)

taglist: @lcvespedro @katwriteshardy @h3mm3tt @elizabeth4th @libraryofneith @mystickittytaco  @ennvsco @lillaydee @hannah9921 @fluff-lover  

[studiogrimm810]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: after a long day of driving with the brothers, you and dean drink too much and when dean goes off with a random woman, sam takes care of you

warnings: fluff, alcohol, intoxication

word count: 2,970

A/N: fluff is so not usually my thing just fyi, i'm a whore for angst and hurt/comfort haha (also might make a part 2 for the hangover lol)

(edit: i made a part 2!! Sober After-Thought)

———————

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill us to call the drive early and settle in for the night,” Dean suggested, filling up Baby with fresh gas, leaning against the trunk. Sam had gotten out to stretch his legs and you just came back out from the bathroom.

“Really, Dean, you’re calling it?” You scoff lightly as you come into earshot, your hands in your jacket pockets. “Ya gettin’ old on me?” You joke, bumping his shoulder.

Dean rolls his eyes, pushing off of the trunk as the nozzle clanks closed, signaling the tank is full, “shut up,” he mumbles. “I saw a bar a few blocks back with a motel in the same parking lot and I could use a drink,” he explains, holstering the nozzle back into the gas pump and finishing up.

“I could use a drink,” you nod curtly as you walk around to the back seat. Sam seems reluctant but not completely against it.

“Yeah- okay,” Sam shrugs, climbing into the car. Dean has a tiny moment of celebration with the pump of his fist as he drives off and back to the direction of the motel to check in.

The motel is a classic semi-run down spot that’s in desperate need of a power wash but seems like its paint-chipped siding would dissolve away at the pressure. It’s not perfect but it’s cheap.

Dean goes into the lobby to grab a room while you and Sam get your bags and meet Dean at the chosen room.

You set your bags on the couch, hoping it’s a pull out.

“Hey, you don’t have to take the couch, have one of the beds,” Sam insists, walking up next to you and setting his own bags on the couch.

“It’s okay, really,” you assure, knowing he would be far too uncomfortable cramped on the couch. You plop down onto a free spot and stretch out with a yawn “see-?” you say through your yawn “already comfy enough to sleep,” you smile simply up at him, hoping he’ll settle and just take the bed. He was obviously struggling with just going with it and also wanting to let you be more comfortable but he also knew how stubborn you were so he just dropped it.

“If you change your mind you better tell me,” he points a loose finger at you and grabs his bags back up again to lug them over to the motel bed. Dean had claimed the other bed with his own bags.

“Either of ya comin’ with me?” Dean asked, straightening his jacket and fixing his necklace. He looked between you and Sam waiting for a response.

“Hells yeah,” you nod and stand back up, “just let me freshen up a bit,” you grab your smaller bag and head to the bathroom to fix yourself up a bit, brushing your hair and adjusting your accessories. From inside the bathroom you hear Sam also agree to go out and a flutter of nerves ripple through your stomach in excitement.

Heading back out, Dean's head lifts to greet you and check to see if you’re ready. You nod softly and the three of you head out.

It’s pretty chilly out, but you thankfully had a jacket to shield yourself from the cold. Sam looked over to your direction, checking to make sure you looked warm enough for the short walk to the bar.

The bar is just like any dive bar, not as beat up as the motel you three were staying in but definitely hosting the same general demographic of drifters and truckers. A few people looked your way when you entered the bar, but it was simple side glances and such.

A few beers in and the brothers are telling you a story about some case they worked a few weeks back involving Sam's horrid fear of clowns and how he ended up bloody and covered in glitter. Sam seemed embarrassed and a little annoyed but you saw the smile that he hid behind his beer bottle as he took a swig.

“I swear- he looked like he was attacked by some PCP crazed strippers,” Dean cackled, doubling over enough to hold his stomach. You laughed as well, the image alone enough to make you chuckle.

“Oh- Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Sam,” you laughed a little harder trying to get out your words, “I can’t even- I can’t  even imagine how scary that was for you, but-” your words are chopped up by the seizing laughter rumbling your chest. As you both start to cool down, Sam looks at both you and Dean with a small smile and his eyebrows raised, silently asking ‘ya done?’.

“Sammy and his clowns, poor kid,” Dean clamps his hand on Sam’s shoulder and takes another swig of his beer. Sam rolls his eyes and finishes off his drink.

The three of you occupied a high table in the middle of the bar dining room, sharing a plate of chips and dip.

“Whatever,” Sam stands and shakes his head, “I would offer another round but neither of you deserve it,” he jokes and walks back up to the bar leaving you and Dean trying to recover from your fits of laughter.

“And you didn’t get a picture?” You ask, leaning back into your regular sitting position but still letting the afterwaves of humor shake your shoulders.

“No, but it’s engraved in my brain,” Dean shakes his head, a wide smile still blessing his lips and lighting up his face.

“I really wanted another round too,” you lift your bottle and shake the little liquid still left in it. Dean polishes his beer off and shrugs as he stands.

“I gotchya, sweetheart,” Dean heads to the bar with Sam, holding up two fingers to signal for two more beers. Dean bumps Sam's shoulder as he leans on the bar but you can’t hear what they’re saying.

When the brothers return, Dean sets your beer down in front of you and takes his own seat back. 

You all continue to talk and laugh and share stories as you get a few more rounds deep. The words seem to flow out easier as you’re telling a story of some hunt where you worked with this base-level hunter who had no clue what he was doing. You didn’t necessarily hate the guy but he did almost get you killed over a rookie mistake. You find it somewhat humorous due to the little respect you may have for your own life but Sam doesn't find it as funny. Dean entertains the story as you’re telling it- lighthearted and passive- but on the inside he feels his own pit of rage for the stranger who basically used you as bait.

“What’s his name again? I could use a punching bag for some practice,” Dean says as a joke but both you and Sam know he meant his words.

“He was a newbie, he learned, but he’s not hunting anymore- thank god,” you chuckle softly and take a swig of your drink.

Sam has stopped drinking but you and Dean continue to work off of each other, getting round after round and when Dean suggests shots, you’re completely game.

“Maybe you guys should slow down,” Sam suggested, acutely aware of both of your intoxicated states.

“Maybe you should speed up, Sammy, let loose!” Dean shoves Sam’s hand from his shoulder and goes to get a round of shots.

“‘Scuse me,” you slur, standing with a slight sway but desperately needing to use the restroom.

“Woah, you okay there?” Sam stands with you and holds out his arms.

“I’m fine, pretty boy, just wait here for me,” you smile and rub a hand up his bicep, squeezing slightly and pushing off of him to walk towards the bathrooms.

You didn’t see the blush that powders his cheeks.

The bathroom was pretty unclean but you didn’t feel squeamish due to your state. As you pass the mirror you catch a glimpse of yourself and you lock eyes with your own and- holy shit are you drunk.

Your head feels like it’s spinning and your limbs are buzzing with what you would say felt like your blood rushing but honestly you’re just shitfaced. Your eyes, however, are level and a little lidded as they look back at you and help ground yourself. You lean into the sink to get a closer look in the mirror and examine your face a bit but soon get bored and do what you came in here to do in the first place.

When you finish up, you head back to your table only to find two of the three shots empty and a wad of cash on the center of the table. Your head tilts in confusion as you finish your stride to the table.

“Hey- there you are!” Sam chuckled nervously, relieved to see you. You spin to face him, your head still cocked to the side, “Dean went off with someone he met so I think it’s safe to say we won’t see him until the morning. He paid the bill,” Sam ticked his head to the pile of cash on the table and you turned to look back at it- your head stopped at a respectable spot to view the table again but you felt like your brain just kept spinning.

“You took your time in there, you okay?” Sam asks, placing his hand on your lower back to steady you. Your stomach ripples again with nerves and your cheeks flush with heat but you blame it on the alcohol.

“Mhmm, just peachy,” you smile up at him, your brain whipping the opposite direction as you do so. You groan softly at the disorientation and feel another hand on your hip.

“Okay, I’m taking you back to the motel,” Sam said, keeping his hold on you and leaning over to grab his jacket.

“‘M fine, Sammy,” you shrug, climbing back up in your chair and reaching for the last shot. Sam's hand shoots out to grab the glass before you can.

“Nope, nuh-uh, I’m cutting you off,” he chuckles softly, setting the glass on the other side of the table with a light clank. You pout and rest your chin in your hand.

“Boring…” You draw out, letting your eyes flutter closed, relishing the feeling of floating over ocean waves like a piece of kelp.

“I know I am, c’mon,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders and gently guides you to stand with him and you stumble out of the chair but his sturdy arms keep you straight.

Your mind is still swaying so you lean into Sam and focus on how your skin tingles with his passive warmth. That warmth, however, is quickly washed away as you two exit the bar into the cold night air. The chill bites at your nose and the apples of your cheeks.

As you’re walking, your stomach aches so you wrap an arm around your torso with a subtle whine. Sam’s eyebrows pinch and he looks down at you.

“You okay?” He asks stopping for a moment to look down at you. You nod softly but make no move to continue walking. “You shouldn’t have tried to keep up with Dean,” he jokes lightly, rubbing his thumb on our shoulder where his hold is sturdy and reliable.

“God, too much alcohol,” you mumble, leaning your head completely into Sam and snaking your arm around his torso. Yet again- you miss the blush that paints his skin like a rose. He smiles softly and pulls you in a little closer, his embrace around your protective and careful.

“You’ll be okay, I’ve gotchya,” Sam continues walking slowly, giving you time to put your feet into motion. His eyes dart from your feet up to the path in front of them and then instinctively around the area for anything unseemly.

You both finally make it to the motel room and you quickly crumble into your previous spot on the couch with a loud ‘hmph’. You can hear Sam moving around the room for a few minutes and then he crouches next to you.

“You sure you still don’t want my bed?” Sam nudges you softly and you just nod- in your mind you're nodding because you want the bed and thankfully Sam knows what you mean so he just chuckles softly. “Okay, let me help you up, you look so uncomfortable,” he says sweetly- he’s so sweet.

He pulls you up and the room spins, it just keeps spinning and you’re really starting to regret that last drink- or two. Sam can tell by the look on your face that you’re struggling.

“You’re okay,” he steadies you, “just take a moment, I won’t let you fall,” he waits patiently for you to be okay enough to take another step and doesn’t push. A small nod rocks your vision, but it signals that you're good enough to walk. Sam guides you to his bed and lifts up the blankets for you and you slump down onto the spot and Sam keeps his arms out as a guard rail for you.

The feeling of your shoes still hugging your feet is unreasonably uncomfortable so you try to kick them off but only manage to scrape your ankles in the process.

“Here, let me help you,” Sam doesn’t hesitate to gently grab your calf and lift your foot to help unlace your shoes. His hands are quick as he unties the laces and slips off your shoes, sticking them neatly by the bedside table. “You feelin’ okay?” He looks up at you, taking in your appearance and trying to gauge your mental presence in the moment. You just shake your head with a small pout of pain and disorientation. “You need water,” he says, quietly enough for you to think he was just talking to himself, standing and walking to the sink provided in the motel's kitchenette.

It’s really a coin-toss if you’re swaying or not while you’re sitting on the bed.

The humorous expression of a half-laugh and half-cringe on Sam's face makes you think you’re swaying.

He sits on Dean’s bed, across from you, holding out the glass to you, “Here.”

You take the glass and down most of it in a few deep gulps, the scratch of the ice cold water against your alcoholic tongue and throat feel painfully refreshing- like chugging a sprite.

“Careful,” Sam coos softly, reaching up to try and get your hand to tilt the glass back and away from your mouth so you can take a breath. He successfully gets the glass back in his grasp and sets it on the side table. “You should get some sleep,” he speaks again, his voice low and smooth- velvety like chocolate.

“Tummy hurts,” you groan, placing your hand back on your stomach. Sam chuckles softly.

“I bet,” he nods and clasps his hands together, leaning on his knees. You push back some of your hair from your face and let your eyes laze shut, “C’mon, you need to sleep,” he stands with a soft grunt and lifts the blankets so you can slide your legs under the covers. Your body feels weighed as you melt into the mattress, letting the pillow puff up and around to frame your face as you drop your head into it suddenly.

Sam pulls up the covers, laying them flat along your body to make sure you're evenly warm and comfortable.

“Do you need anything?” Sam asks, gazing down at you lovingly- you blame your intoxication for romanticizing his pretty eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, staring up at him lovingly, and no amount of alcohol could erase or demote that emotion from your eyes.

Sam stops for a moment, looking down at you with a fallen expression, not of disappointment or uncertainty, but of confusion- and maybe a spark of hope?

“You’re drunk,” he sighs softly, smiling down at you sadly as he tries to keep his own feelings in check.

“Doesn’t make me a liar,” you slur, snuggling further into the bed and still looking up at him. You almost would say there was a look of awful sadness shimmering in his eyes- something deep rooted and dreadful.

His eyes dip down and away from your face, thinking about something you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sweet,” you continue, closing your own eyes which make Sam comfortable enough to look back up at you- sweet puppy-dog eyes that could almost pierce through your closed eyelids. “And strong- really strong,” you giggle drunkenly, nestling your head into the pillow to settle in and sleep.

You don’t say anything else for a moment and Sam just lets his eyes drift over your face, taking in your unique features. His hand reaches out to hold your own before he can stop himself, squeezing it softly.

“Th-thank you f’ not leaving me,” you grumble, half-asleep. Sam’s head tilt is in confusion and his hold on your hand tightens slightly.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“The bar- at the bar,” you yawn with a small hum of contentment, “Like I said, sweet.”

Sam doesn’t really know how to respond- why would you think you owed him a ‘thanks’? What are you even thanking him for?

“You don’t have to thank me,” he settled on his response as he shook his head, running his thumb along your knuckles.

Your prolonged silence signaled to him that you were passed out and he chuckled quietly, knowing you desperately needed the rest.

He lifted your hand slowly and placed a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Get some rest, beautiful,” he whispered, setting your hand back down and taking one last look at your restful face before standing to get ready for bed himself.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[taojjang]

𐙚 riize's quiet acts of love .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ masterlist! 𖦹 pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluffy fluff! warnings: so cute u might fall to the floor in tears

ಇ. synopsis: the smallest yet sweetest gestures that let you know he loves you to the end of the world, even without words.

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✩ shotaro ⸝⸝ taking photos of you!

you are the most beautiful part of taro’s life. he can’t contain his adoration for you whenever his eyes land on you. even in a crowd of hundreds, his eyes gravitate to you like second nature. but when you’re not around, he misses staring at you so much :( so he got a digital camera to capture every moment with you. it was because of you that he found his passion for photography! you could be getting dolled up for a date when snap! taro's standing behind you with his camera in hand, not to mention that silly smile on his face. "you looked too pretty!" even during simple walks to the corner store, he’ll take out his camera to snap a photo of a silly sticker on a lamppost because it reminds him of you. though that flashing light is irritating as hell, it all becomes worth it when you watch him click away on his camera and beam at your prettiest moments.

✩ eunseok ⸝⸝ keeping you warm/cool!

seok can’t stand seeing you uncomfortable. when you’re sick, it’s like hell for him. so he takes as many precautions as he can to make sure you stay healthy. on the coldest of days, he'll slip hand warmers into your pockets before you leave the house. even if the wind is only strong enough to blow your hair around just a bit, he’ll zip up your jacket and make you keep your hands in your pockets. but when it's scorching hot outside, he'll make sure to charge up a little portable fan to carry around with you. when you pass by stores, he'll always turn to you and ask if you want him to buy a drink to cool you down. seok needs to keep his baby comfy at all times!

✩ sungchan ⸝⸝ giving you the first bite!

food is channie’s love language and there’s only one thing he loves more than a good hamburger: his silly little lover. so of course he’ll prioritize your hunger over his! even when you go out to a restaurant together and he’s all antsy when the appetizers arrive, he’ll put the food on your plate and wait for you to try it before his fork even touches it. he'll impatiently stare at you, gripping the fork in his hand waiting for you to tell him if it's good or not. once you assure him you like it, he'll happily dig in! though he's generous enough to let you take the first bite, he can't guarantee he'll stay away from your food. "can i try some of that..?"

✩ wonbin ⸝⸝ fixing your jewelry!

your heart never fails to flutter whenever you’re caught up in your own business and binnie's hand suddenly brushes against your neck to fix your crooked necklace. during small conversations, wonbin will suddenly grab your hand while you’re talking and begin toying with your rings; sliding them up and down your fingers or twisting the bands. it's comforting to trace you through the silver and gold adorning your pretty frame. he just can't keep his hands to himself when you look so beautiful :(

✩ seunghan ⸝⸝ looking into your eyes!

seunghan can never take his eyes off of you. it’s such a simple yet heart-fluttering habit of his. whenever you’re deep into your work or telling him the most boring parts of your day, he’s always looking into your eyes with so much adoration. his gaze always reassures you how much he loves you and how precious you are to him <3 he also uses his adorably kitty stare to distract you from the fact that he isn’t processing a word you’re saying…

✩ sohee ⸝⸝ buying your favorite snacks!

on the way home from work or to your house, sohee always has to stop by the convenience store or even the bakery to pick up a sweet treat for his sweet baby. he always picks up small details about your preferences; some days you prefer sweet strawberry candies meanwhile on other days, you prefer deep savory brownies. somehow, sohee always knows exactly what you’re craving. “it’s my spidey senses! i’m spiderman!”

✩ anton ⸝⸝ booping your nose!

this one is quite silly but anton always has to boop your nose whenever you’re around. whenever you look irresistibly adorable, anton always lets out a giggle and leaves a delicate tap on your nose. or even when he knows you’re getting a bit angry with him, he’ll boop your nose to briefly take your mind off of it (which never works because it only makes you angrier, but hey! he finds your sulking so adorable..)

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(a/n: got a little carried away with shotaro... whoops 😅 hope u enjoyed!)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[mini-ism]

mini inquiring minds (me) are dying to know how bad do you think lighter would want to see his beloved wrapped up in his clothes. borrowing one of his old shirts because yours got dirty or you're having an impromptu sleepover and need something comfy to sleep in? Giving you his leather jacket after he notices you shivering because you didn't dress warm enough after the sun set? I just know internally that man is having a monkey neuron activation moment every time

when lighter says he would give you the clothes off his back, he means it. literally.

even if you aren’t cold and catch a chill, he would give you his jacket without a word and refuse to take it back. lighter wants nothing but best for his dearly beloved!!!

nothing would make his heart melt more than seeing you wear his clothes. his old sweaters, his spare t-shirts, even his boxers. he firmly believes you wear it better than him! lighter has to fight the urge to sweep you into his arms and kiss you senseless with his rarely heard giggles.

it’s gotten to the point where he implicitly encourages you to wear some of his clothes, “it could be cold out later,” or “i think this shirt would look better with what you’re wearing.”encouragingly nudging you in the direction of wearing one of his zip-up hoodies that’d been through years of wear and quite possibly hell. but he can’t see himself ever wearing it better than you do. it’s the cutest thing, he swears.

[ddejavvu]

can we get a darry Curtis × daughter reader (toddler) who refuses to go to sleep unless Darry is there? Darry gets home kinda late that night, past her bedtime obviously, and he finds that the gang had trouble trying to get her to sleep 😭 even her favorite uncle soda couldn't get her to sleep but as soon as Darry gets there she runs up to him with her pacifier and blanket and immediately cuddles up to him and falls asleep immediately

"Your eyes are closing." Two-Bit prods unceremoniously at your eyelids, which are indeed closing against your will, "Just go to sleep, kid."

"No." You have the stubborn will of your father, and you won't rest until he's back to tuck you into bed. After all, he's the strongest of everyone in the house, how are you supposed to trust that anyone else will be able to do it right?

"Come on, sweetpea." Soda groans, "Darry's gonna whoop us if you're still up past midnight. And I've got work tomorrow." He laments, "Don't you care about my sleep?"

"No!" You insist, itching to tuck your blanket beside your face and snooze against it- but if you lose now, you'll never win again. Your dad always tells you to never give up just because doing something you want to do might be difficult, and you're intent on making him proud tonight. Even if it means Steve begins trying to smother you with one of the couch cushions.

"Just give her a sip of this shit," Dallas offers up a bottle of something that's no longer beer, "That'll knock her out."

"Then Darry'll knock you out." Ponyboy promises, pulling you out from beneath the pillow Steve is shoving into your face, "Come on, kid, can't you just go to sleep? You're tired, we all know you are. You're usually asleep three hours before now. Your dad wanted us to put you to bed."

"I want him to put me to bed." You insist, tiny face scrunching into a glower, "He always puts me to bed."

"That's cause he always gets off before dinner," Soda argues, "But he had to stay late tonight, okay? It just happens, but you still need to go to bed."

"No."

"Yes." Soda's really risking his title of favorite uncle now, perhaps passing it over to Johnny who stands by as a last resort with a comfy spot on the couch and a warm jacket to wrap around you, "Go to bed."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!" Soda's voice is chorused with Ponyboy's, Two-Bit's, and Steve's now, and Steve briefly thinks of wrestling you into a horizontal position and holding your eyes shut until you drop off.

"NO!" You stand up, using all of your remaining energy to shout back at your uncles. The backing track to your argument is the sound of the front door clicking open, newly locked since your birth. Your dad lumbers through the door, eyes blowing wide as he hears your shouting.

Before any of the boys can explain themselves you rocket towards Darry's legs, running into them and tucking your face against his knees.

"Dad," You whine, "I missed you."

"Mhm. 'Missed you too, bug," He bends down, dropping his back and picking you up in one swift motion, "But I thought you were gonna be sleepin' when I got home."

He casts a suspicious glance at his brothers and their friends, but all of them jump to their own defense.

"She wouldn't go to bed!" Soda insists.

Two-Bit agrees, "Damn near had to knock her out with a mallet."

"I voted to give her a drink," Dallas grins wryly at Darry as you lean your head against his broad shoulder, "You're raisin' one hell of a fighter, Darrel. Never seen someone win an argument against Steve."

"She didn't win." Steve grumbles, "If Pony hadn't moved the couch cushion she would'a been real quiet real soon."

Darry peers down at you to see what you have to say for yourself, but you're mercifully sleeping, pacifier bobbing gently in your mouth as your eyelashes rest mere millimeters against your flushed cheeks. You're limp in his arms now, and there's a round of scoffs from the men who'd nearly torn their well-greased hair out to try and get you to rest.

"It ain't hard." Darry smirks, relishing in the way that you melt in his arms while his family stews around him, "Just try harder next time, maybe sing a lullaby or something."

"Sing a lullaby?" Soda hisses, looking murderous, "I sang a whole damn musical for her."

"You must have been pitchy." Darry shrugs, gently jostling your head on his shoulder, and starting off towards your bedroom with a poorly concealed, haughty grin, "She always drops off perfectly for me."

[peydawgz]

Could we mayhaps get a curvy reader x hazard pretty please 💕

Yes and you get bonus Ramattra because I am ✨bricked up✨

Hazard

Fin looks at you with his eyes and his heart. He is enamored with your beauty. If youve got a naughty side showing, say a tattoo or a piercing, some showy outfit, or serving the punk look, he’s like a moth to the flame.

He’s kind and gentle with you, and treats you like royalty. He’ll defend you till death, and probably spend all his money on you. He goes out of his way with everything in his life.

You’re so warm and cozy, and you fit so perfect in his lap he would rather cuddle you forever. He likes to rest his hand on your stomach while you lay together, and mmm your thighs are so squishy and tempting. (Literally how to spoon, tiddy in da hand, kiss ya neck, dick hard on the butt. Hell yeah)

He’s always touching your butt fr, like just a little pat sometimes when you’re ahead of him, but also when you’re in privacy he’ll just grope you for fun. He loves kissing your neck and cheeks, and kissing you anywhere in fact.

He would never ever put you down or have any negativity near your relationship. In fact, he’s more of your hype man. He loves when you dress up and play with your fashion sense. He encourages you to wear whatever you want though, and finds you very adorable and attractive in your comfy outfits.

He’s a big guy, and when he gives you one of his jackets you find you are swallowed in it. He loves you so much, he can’t help but squeeze you up into a hug.

He loves to hold your stomach, in any way. Picking you up and giving you a cute little spin around when he sees you, or just simply wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest.

I think if you licked him it would turn him on,, and fr he would do it back he’s such a cute weirdo.

Ramattra

Your kindness towards him drew him in. You treated him like he was any other, and just lived your humble human life. He learned that he must have a heart,, because you stole it.

Ramattra wants to protect you at all costs, because you are the best thing that could have happened to him. If anyone says a word, he will destroy them. He’s never desired an omnic/human relationship more than ever before you came around.

He is like an animal, although he is machine. He tilts his head in curiosity, when he sees something he likes. He approaches slowly, and is almost fearful at first touching you. Then, he is just leaning all over you and nuzzling you everywhere.

His cold metal hands explore every curve, sending you shivers. He is starving for your touch, absolutely melting when your fingers go for his coils of “hair”. Every receptor and sensor is tingling with sensation,,, like what one would call butterflies in your stomach.

You love when he is in Nemesis form, his larger arms surrounding you and making you feel so small and cute. He picks you up bridal style, nuzzling his faceplate into your neck and seemingly purring.

He falls in love with every inch of you, and cuddle time is usually spent with you on top of him. His hands hold your thighs pressed against his cool body, helping you relax as your head lay on his chest. He strokes your back, and maybe will him you a gentle song.

Omg kiss him!!! Smooch him everywhere for real!! He wanna kiss you so bad,, all he can do is nuzzle and touch you :(

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

Can we get something similar to the Josh one with bill?? His tummy in the epilogue makes me go cray cray

(Dad bod bill🤤 beware bill is the type of guy that would get back at you if he felt embarrassed

Title: "Belly Rub Trouble"

Bill had been sprawled out across the beat-up couch, one arm thrown over his face, the other dangling off the side like he was a corpse at a crime scene. His orange flannel jacket was unbuttoned, white t-shirt underneath riding up just enough to expose a flash of his softer middle.

You sat on the edge of the couch, quietly admiring him. You loved him like this — not yelling about comics, not insulting some poor cashier, not pretending like he hated the world. Just... relaxed. Real.

You reached over, without thinking, and ran your fingers in slow, lazy circles over his exposed stomach.

Bill flinched immediately.

“What the hell are you doin’?” he barked, sitting up halfway — but you just gave him a look, the kind that said sit back down, idiot.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t think you’re slick.” But he dropped back with a dramatic grunt anyway, arms crossed now.

You smirked, continuing your gentle rubs. His stomach was soft, warm, home.

“You’re comfy, Bill,” you murmured, teasing.

“Tch. Yeah, great. Real flattering.” His voice was full of that usual sharp sarcasm, but you caught the way his ears turned a little red.

You pressed a slow kiss to the curve of his belly. Bill stiffened.

“Jesus—! What, you tryin’ to kill me?” he choked out, shoving his hand over his face again like he couldn’t stand being seen so mushy.

You laughed, nuzzling your nose against him.

Your hand slipped a little lower by accident — grazing the waistband of his jeans — and you felt it. The twitch.

There was a beat of heavy silence.

“…You better not say a goddamn word,” Bill growled from behind his hand.

You bit back a wicked grin. “You’re poppin’ a tent, Billy.”

“I swear to god—” He bolted upright so fast it nearly knocked you off the couch.

But you just grabbed him by the flannel and tugged him right back down, laughing, pinning him against the cushions. His heart was hammering like crazy under your hand.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you teased, running your hand over his chest now.

Bill scowled, cheeks burning red, but he didn’t fight you. If anything, he grabbed you by the hips and grumbled, “You’re a pain in my ass.”

You leaned down, bumping your forehead to his. “And you’re my big, soft idiot. Deal with it.”

For a second, it looked like he might bark something back — some harsh, snarky retort. But instead he just grunted, pulling you tighter into him, letting out a low, embarrassed, but content sigh.

You kissed the corner of his mouth. He didn’t even pretend to hate it.

---

Bill let you cuddle against him for a good five minutes, your hand still absentmindedly stroking over his chest. He kept his mouth shut, pretending to be tired, playing it cool.

Then — like he snapped a rubber band — he flipped you onto your back with a sharp yank of your hips, pinning you under him in a tangle of flannel and heavy weight.

You gasped, startled. “Bill—!”

He smirked. Smirked. Real evil-like.

“You thought you could get me all worked up and not pay for it, huh?” His voice was low, raspy, mocking. “Typical.” He spat the word out like it was a curse, shaking his head.

You opened your mouth to protest — to tease him back — but Bill was already shoving your shirt up, exposing your chest to the cool air. His rough hands cupped your breasts without hesitation, thumbs brushing over your nipples with deliberate, lazy circles.

You whimpered, arching into him.

“What’sa matter?” he sneered, voice dropping even lower. “Little feminist can’t handle a real man?”

You wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

Before you could even think of a retort, Bill dipped his head down and latched his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking slow and mean, all teeth and tongue. His stubble scraped the sensitive skin just enough to make your whole body jerk.

And he didn’t stop.

He worked your nipples like it was personal — switching sides, alternating between slow licks and sharp nips — until you were squirming beneath him, panting, trying to push his head away.

Bill just laughed against you.

“Nah, sweetheart. You wanted to play. Now you’re gonna take it.”

He kissed his way down your stomach, biting at the waistband of your pants, yanking them down with zero ceremony. By the time he settled between your thighs, you were already trembling, too hot, too sensitive.

Bill spread you open with two rough hands, muttering under his breath — “Jesus Christ, already so wet. You’re worse than me.” — before dragging his tongue through you in a long, filthy lick that made your toes curl.

He was relentless.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was messy, loud, obscene. He sucked and licked and lapped like a man on a mission, fingers sneaking up to rub slow, rough circles around your clit whenever you started getting too used to his tongue.

Your hands fisted helplessly in his flannel. Your hips bucked.

“Bi—Bill—!”

He pulled back just enough to grin at you, mouth shiny with spit and slick. “What’sa matter, baby? Thought you liked playin' games.”

You barely had time to breathe before he dove back in, this time adding two thick fingers, crooking them just right — right there — until you cried out, squeezing around him.

When you came, it hit so hard your whole body jerked off the couch.

Bill didn’t stop. Not even a little.

He kept eating you through it, dragging every little aftershock out of you until you were whining, trying to squirm away. He pinned you there with one big hand across your stomach, holding you down, growling, “Nah, not done yet. You started this.”

The second orgasm hit even harder — you were practically crying into his flannel sleeve — and when he finally pulled back, smug as hell, you were a boneless, overstimulated mess.

Bill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then zipped down his jeans with a sharp tug.

“C’mere.” His voice was rough, wrecked now too, but he still had that mean little tilt to his mouth.

You barely registered him shoving his jeans down enough to free himself before he lined up against your stomach — and with a few rough strokes of his hand, he spilled across your skin with a groan, painting your belly and chest with hot, sticky stripes.

He froze you.

Bill let out a long, satisfied exhale, looking down at the mess he made.

“Heh.” He ran his thumb through it lazily, smearing it over your skin just to be a dick. “Frosted ya like a goddamn donut.”

You glared at him weakly. “You’re such an asshole.”

He just grinned wider, tugging your ruined shirt down a little to half-cover the mess, then flopping next to you on the couch, grabbing your waist and hauling you into his chest.

“Yeah, well. You knew what you were signin’ up for.”

And if he pressed a rough kiss to your forehead after — well. You weren’t gonna complain.

[booniebaby141]

One Too Many…

F/AFAB UserXPriceXPoly141

Chapter 2: Warming Up

You get a little too drunk, resulting in an evening of debauchery and self discovery. No more dirty martinis for you…

[Disclaimer: Everything from here on is pure PWP SMUT, I apologize for NOTHING! Also I had to split this chapter in two parts because it was so long but part 3 is almost ready!]

Part 1

The trip to your room had felt even faster than usual, you had never seen the guys move in such swift and practiced unison, unbuckling their belts and unzipping jackets as they quickly and quietly made their way to your door. It was late, past midnight and many soldiers had gone off to sleep or were on night shifts, making it much easier to sneak 3 grown men in your quarters. Still in Prices grasp, Ghost and Soap worked to take your heels off while Price began pulling the zipper of your skirt down. The 4 of you were practically naked by the time you were inside. They wasted no time making themselves comfy and locking the door behind them. The group, now fully enveloped in the heat of the moment, finished shedding their clothing in a frenzy of need and desire.

Ghost and Soap took their places on the bed, eyes fixed on you and their Captain as they drank in the view.

Price, ever the gentleman, carefully set you down on the bed, his hands immediately finding their way back to your body, exploring every inch under the watchful eyes of the other two. Your eyes glossed over your nightstand where a glass of wine from earlier sat, still practically full. You took the glass in your hand gingerly before downing the rest of its contents, against your better judgement. You moved your hand up behind Prices neck, pulling him down to finally kiss you. Price's lips crashed onto yours with a desperate hunger, his desire for you overwhelming any restraint he had left. With Ghost and Soap watching intently, Price deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance.

Soap let out a low moan from the edge of the bed.

Soap: Bloody hell, that's hot.

You and Price were both turned on by the idea of the other two watching. These men, your friends of so many years, were about to watch you get railed by your Captain, claiming you as his own in front of the 141. The kiss didn’t break when your hand moved down his chest to his stomach, or when you reached further down to finally grab the base of Prices full erection, slowly beginning to stroke, the boys on either side of you followed suite. Your touch, your kissing, and the sight of you stroking his hard on had Price weak in the knees. He growled, a deep, possessive growl against your lips as he felt the intense pleasure building inside him.

Ghost and Soap were entranced, their own hands now mimicking your movements on their pulsing erections, their eyes locked on your every move as you worked your magic on their Captain. You noticed the bit of precum leaking from your Captains tip, and moved your finger over the head, taking it and coating up and down his length, lubing him up for you. He let out a strangled gasp as you teased his sensitive tip, his eyes fluttering shut as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Soap let out a moan of envy from the bedside.

Soap: Christ, Cap, you're a lucky bastard.

Ghost: Looks like the lass knows how to handle her Captain, doesn't she?

Price: I’ll have to return the favor for her then? Won’t I love?

Price put two of his fingers in your mouth, watching in awe while you sucked and licked on them in drunk desperation, coating them with your spit. He gently took them out before moving between your thighs to return all the pleasure you’d been giving him.

He leaned in, his eyes dark with desire, and his breath hot against your ear.

Price: Now you be a good girl and spread those pretty legs for me.

Just as the words left his mouth, Ghost and Soap let out a groan from the bedside. Price slowly started to tease you, rubbing your clit in small circles and running his fingers just over your entrance. It was only when you were practically begging and whining beneath him that he took mercy on you and slid his fingers inside, opening you up for what was to come. He took his time stretching you out. The long, slow, deep thrusts from his fingers already felt like heaven, you couldn’t imagine how his cock would feel. You could see Soap and Ghost's faces flushed, sweat starting to bead on their foreheads from the sheer intensity of the scene before them.

Soap let out a ragged breath, running a hand over his face.

Soap: Bloody hell, Cap's fingers are doing a number on the lass, aren't they?

Ghost bit his lip, his gaze fixed on his friends' intimate play.

Ghost: Can't say I blame him. Look at the view he's got.

Y/N: Ive got a pretty good view myself lads.

You were gazing down Prices stomach, where you had been slowly pumping his aching cock, adding a bit more pressure and speed to really rile him up.

Ghost: Looks like he's enjoying it, lads. See how hard he's getting?

Soap: Yeah, he's really struggling to hold off. Can't say I blame him. With you, he can hardly control himself.

Price groaned upon hearing their words.

Price: Christ lads, you're not helping.

Oh Price should not have said that. Now you knew the lads teasing was adding fuel to the fire and you had to join in.

Y/N: He can hardly control himself yeah? Would he talk about me when I wasn’t there lads? What would he say?

The perverted filth proceeding from Ghost and Soap’s was like lightning on your skin, electrifying the moment to an intensity you’d never felt before.

Soap: Oh, the things he'd say about you, love...

Ghost: We'd be treated to quite the descriptive show of his fantasies involving you.

Price's face went red from embarrassment, his eyes narrowing as he grumbled,

Price: You lads could at least spare me a morsel of dignity.

Soap: Sorry Sir, not a chance.

The three of you had never seen your Captain this undone and vulnerable before, and you certainly weren’t done your little show of making him squirm.

Y/N: And what would he do to me in these.. fantasies of his?

You asked the question so innocently, knowing fully well you were driving Price mad with lust. Ghost let out an exaggerated sigh.

Ghost: Oh, where to begin, love. He'd take you in every way imaginable. Against the wall, on the bed, even in the field.

Soap: And he'd make sure you were satisfied in every single one of those scenarios.

The boys knew the long game you were playing with Price; to get him completely unraveled, all hot and bothered before giving him everything he wanted from you.

Y/N: On the field too John? I had no idea you were such an exhibitionist.

Price groaned as you called him out, blushing furiously as the lads snickered at your revelation. Ghost looked particularly amused, his eyes glittering with mischief.

Ghost: Who would've thought our Captain here had a bit of an exhibitionist streak? Not that I'm complaining.

Soap: Certainly spices things up, that's for sure.

Y/N: Maybe I’ll make him lay claim to me in front of the new recruits, let everyone know who I belong to.

You gasped as Price curled his fingers deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot that had you making the prettiest sounds. The lads chuckled at your suggestion, and Price couldn't help but feel a sense of heat spreading through him. The thought of claiming you in front of the new recruits sent a shiver down his spine.

Ghost: Oh, I'd pay to see that show.

Soap: Aye, it'd be quite the spectacle. Our Captain marking his territory for all to see.

Y/N:It would be pretty hot for you to show everyone exactly why you are in charge around here. Show them how a real Captain treats his teammates well.

You were getting desperate to feel Price inside you, his fingers were amazing but you needed all of him, every single inch, every last drop. You stopped stroking his cock to change positions so you’re on top now, grinding your bare pussy along his shaft, letting him feel your wetness run down the length of his cock. He let out a low groan as you moved against him, and he felt how wet you were. His grip on you grew tighter, and he started to buck his hips up, trying to get as much friction as he could from you. Ghost and Soap watched, their eyes dark with desire.

Ghost: Looks like someone’s getting impatient lads.

Soap: Can't blame her. Our Captain's been teasing her for long enough.

Price: Gotta work her open first, make sure I won’t hurt her.

You looked at his size and he was big, but you wanted every inch. Your hips were moving faster now, wanting to tease him just a bit more before you took his whole length up your very needy pussy. Soap let out a low whistle, his eyes fixed on your body.

Soap: Aye, it's a good thing you're getting warmed up, love. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. Can't say I blame you though. If I was in your position, I wouldn't hesitate to get a piece of our Captain.

You could see from he was already getting hard just from the spectacle he was witnessing. You filed away Soaps little confession about wanting Price, the possibility of using it later was enticing. The moaning beneath you was getting louder and more frequent. You knew Price wouldn’t last much longer at this rate, but God it was hot to see him squirm under you. Price's grip on your hips had now turned into a vise. You could see how hard he was struggling to hang on, his face turning red and his body glistening with sweat. The lads continued to watch, both of them now fully hard and stroking themselves at the sight before them.

Ghost: Bloody hell, Cap. You look like you're about to explode.

A devious smirk crossed your lips as you looked at Price.

Y/N: Maybe we should give our Captain a quick break to cool down.

You leaned in close to Price, both of your chests pressed into each other as you lifted yourself off his hips and moved up so you were directly over his face.

Y/N: I should give you a treat for your hard work.

You placed yourself back down, only now you were grinding on Price’s face, and he wasted ZERO time grabbing your thighs and holding you firm, wanting desperately to kiss and lick every part of you. You gasped sharply as his tongue made swirling circles on your clit.

Y/N: Oh fuck, just like that.

Ghost: Christ, that's hot."

Soap: Bloody hell, you're making it hard for us to keep our hands off ourselves.

Your eyes darkened at Soaps last comment, getting a new idea. With Price still occupied between your legs, you reached across both sides of him to grab Ghost and Soaps aching hard cocks and began to slowly stroke them both.

Y/N: Well I don’t mind putting my hands on you two.

Ghost and Soap both let out low groans at your touch, their eyes fluttering shut as you stroked both of them.

Ghost: Bloody hell, that feels good.

Soap: Aye, can't say I don't enjoy a bit of your attention ourselves, love.

You continued to stroke up and down their lengths, occasionally stopping and starting to keep them on edge. Eventually they had lost the ability to stay still and were freely thrusting into your hands, doing the work for you. Their breathing had now turned into short, raggedy pants. They were clearly struggling to control themselves, occasionally meeting each other’s gazes and holding them lovingly.

Meanwhile, Price was in another world beneath you. The sound of his whole team moaning in pleasure filled the room and made him all the more active in driving you over the edge. He went from kissing to licking to sucking on your clit in smooth, precise motions that had you unintentionally gripping the lads cocks even harder while you stroked. They both groaned at the added pressure. The tension had built up throughout the night, and now you were all so desperate for release. Soap couldn't help but speak up, his voice sounding strained.

Soap: Bloody hell, I don't know how long I can take this, love.

Y/N: I can say the same about our captain here, he’s damn near got me at my limit.

Price took this opportunity to grab your thighs and bring you down to his chest, the way he effortlessly manhandled you, even in his dazed out state, made you dizzy with lust.

Price: That so love?

Before you knew it, he moved his grip from your thighs to your hips and lifted you up. In one swift motion he had flipped you over and he was now the one on top, both his hands placed by your head. He lined his cock up, just teasing at your slit. You were already so wet for him.

Price: Don’t wanna keep you waiting then…

He smiled devilishly before thrusting into you, all the way to the hilt, one thrust. You gasped out in ecstasy as Price lowered himself closer to you, and set the rhythm with each delicious snap forward of his hips. The lads were awestruck to say the least. The sight before Ghost and Soap was one they had only heard about or fantasized about before in the past. Now they were witnessing it up close and in motion, and it was even better than they ever expected.

Ghost could barely speak, his eyes fixed on the passionate scene before him. He could only manage one sentence.

Ghost: Bloody... hell... Cap.

Soap's breathing was heavy, and he too could barely say a word.

Soap: You... look... amazing... together.

If they thought they were witnessing a spectacle before, they were about to find out the show was only just getting started…

[elliecore4eva]

Future Snippets of Ellie & Sunshine!Reader

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Sunshine! Joels Daughter! Reader

1. Morning Routines (or Lack Thereof)

Ellie wakes up to your weight half on top of her, your face buried in her neck. She can feel your slow, even breathing, the warmth of your body wrapped around her like a human-sized blanket.

She should get up. Should.

But then you make the softest little noise in your sleep, curling in closer.

Ellie?

Yeah, she's never moving again.

Joel finds you both like that an hour later when he stops by, knocking once before letting himself in like he pays rent.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, crossing his arms as Ellie blinks up at him sleepily. "How the hell do you ever get anything done?"

"I don't," Ellie mutters, wrapping her arms tighter around you. "She's too comfy."

Joel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re hopeless."

2. Tipsy Bison Teasing (Again)

"Okay, but seriously?" Jesse leans forward, a familiar grin creeping onto his face. "How does it feel, knowing your entire reputation is ruined?"

Ellie glares. "I never had a reputation."

"Oh, you did," Dina corrects. "Broody, intimidating, sometimes an asshole? Now you just follow her around like a lost puppy."

Frank, sipping his drink, nods solemnly. "Tragic, really."

Bill just grunts in agreement.

Ellie leans into you, tucking her face against your shoulder.

"At least my girlfriend likes me," she mutters.

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I do."

Jesse groans dramatically. "Ugh. Disgusting. Get a room."

Ellie smirks. "Gladly."

3. The Town’s Favorite Person

You have a way of making everyone feel special.

You check in on Maria, helping her with whatever town duties she’s juggling. You make small gifts for the kids in town, little hand-sewn patches for their jackets, bracelets, or sometimes just fresh-baked cookies.

Even Bill, gruff and eternally skeptical, has warmed up to you.

"Damn kid," he mutters one day, watching as you hand a freshly baked pie to one of the older folks in town. "How the hell do you have time for all this?"

"I like taking care of people," you shrug. "And it makes them happy."

Bill just grunts. But later, Ellie finds a fully upgraded rifle sitting outside your shared place, courtesy of Bill.

"No one better touch a damn hair on her head," he mutters when Ellie thanks him.

Ellie just smirks. "Trust me, man. I’d burn the whole town down first."

4. The Proposal (Sort Of?)

It’s not planned. Not even a little.

Ellie is just watching you one evening, sitting across from her on the porch, laughing at something Joel said.

And it just hits her.

Like a fucking freight train.

She wants forever.

"Marry me."

You blink, mid-laugh. "What?"

Ellie freezes.

Joel chokes on his coffee. "What the fuck?"

Bill mutters something about kids these days having no sense of timing.

Frank looks delighted.

You? You just smile.

"Yeah, okay."

Ellie stares.

"Wait. Really?"

"Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

Ellie groans, dropping her face into her hands. "You're actually evil."

"Yeah, but I’m your evil."

Ellie looks up, grinning. "Damn right you are."

Joel shakes his head. "You're both insufferable."

Bill just grunts in agreement.

Frank wipes away a fake tear. "Young love. So tragic, so beautiful—"

Ellie throws a pillow at him.

5. "Our Favorite Girl"

Ellie leans against the counter at the Tipsy Bison, arms crossed, waiting.

"Let’s go see our favorite girl," she mutters under her breath.

She doesn’t notice Bill and Frank at the bar, both of them pausing mid-conversation.

Frank slowly raises an eyebrow. "Did you just say ‘our’ favorite girl?"

Bill grunts. "Knew it. She’s got the whole damn town wrapped around her finger."

Ellie blinks. "Wait. No, I meant—"

Frank smirks. "No, no, keep going. Tell us how you’re completely whipped."

Ellie groans, burying her face in her hands. "Why do I even talk in public?"

6. The Rainstorm

It starts as a light drizzle. Nothing bad, nothing worth stopping for.

Then it turns into a full-blown downpour.

You and Ellie sprint toward your house, laughing, soaked to the bone.

As soon as you’re inside, you shiver, rubbing your arms.

Without a word, Ellie pulls off her hoodie and tugs it over your head. It’s warm, a little big on you, and smells just like her.

You blink up at her, grinning. "You’re gonna get cold."

Ellie shrugs. "Doesn’t matter. You looked colder."

You step closer, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"You’re a softie," you whisper.

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Shut up."

But she’s smiling.

7. “I’d Burn the Whole World for You”

Ellie isn’t the jealous type. Not really.

But when some new guy in town starts hovering a little too close to you at the market, laughing too hard at your jokes?

Ellie stands at your side in an instant, slipping a casual arm around your waist.

"Hey, babe," she says, loud enough for him to hear. "You ready to go?"

The guy blinks, then immediately looks away. "Oh—uh, yeah. Yeah, of course."

You arch an eyebrow. "Babe?"

Ellie shrugs, smirking. "What? It’s true."

You laugh, bumping her shoulder. "You’re ridiculous."

Ellie grins, kissing your temple. "Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous."

From a few feet away, Joel watches, shaking his head.

"Damn kid," he mutters. "Whipped beyond saving."

Bill grunts. "Good. Keeps her out of trouble."

Frank laughs.

8. Late-Night Confessions

The stars are bright above Jackson, the sky endless and quiet.

You and Ellie sit on the porch, a thick blanket draped over both of you. Your head rests against her shoulder, and for a long while, neither of you speak.

Then, Ellie clears her throat.

"You know I still—" she hesitates, then sighs. "I still think about that night."

You know exactly what she means. The Tipsy Bison. The words she said.

Your fingers trace patterns on the back of her hand. "I know."

Ellie tilts her head toward you. "I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it."

You shift, turning to face her. "I forgave you, Ellie."

She shakes her head, frustrated. "Yeah, but—"

You lift her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "No buts. You’re allowed to move forward."

Ellie’s eyes soften. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. "I love you."

"I know." You smile. "Now stop sulking and come inside before Joel thinks you’re proposing out here."

From inside, Joel’s gruff voice calls out. "If you are, at least do it right!"

Ellie groans, burying her face in your neck. "I hate this town."

You laugh, tugging her inside.

9. A Morning with Family

The smell of coffee and bacon fills the house.

Joel is at the stove, grumbling as he flips pancakes.

You sit at the table, still groggy from sleep. Ellie, half-asleep, rests her head on your shoulder.

Joel glances over. "You two gonna eat, or you just sittin’ there like a pair of lovesick fools?"

Ellie grunts. "S’too early for this, old man."

Joel snorts. "Too early for breakfast? What the hell do you kids run on?"

You smile sleepily, nudging Ellie. "Pancakes sound good."

Ellie sighs, dramatic as ever, but sits up. "Fine. But only 'cause you said so."

Joel hides his smirk as he sets a plate in front of you.

Bill and Frank arrive soon after, bringing fresh bread and a bottle of honey.

"Figured you two should eat something real," Bill mutters, setting the loaf on the table.

Frank smiles. "Besides, I like seeing her happy."

Ellie glances at you, her heart twisting in her chest.

Because for the first time in a long while, you are.

10. “You’re Stuck With Me”

The sun is just starting to set, casting a warm glow over Jackson.

You and Ellie sit on the edge of the watchtower, legs dangling, watching the sky turn soft shades of pink and orange.

Ellie’s quiet tonight. Not in a bad way—just comfortable.

After a while, she speaks. "You ever think about leaving?"

You blink, turning to her. "Leaving Jackson?"

Ellie nods. "Not for good. Just… seeing what’s out there. Maybe taking a trip, just you and me."

You tilt your head, considering. The idea is tempting. "Where would we go?"

Ellie shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe Wyoming. Or back to Colorado. I heard there’s an old music store in Denver that’s still kinda intact."

You smile. "You just wanna see if they have any old guitars."

Ellie grins, bumping your shoulder. "Maybe. But I’d go anywhere, as long as it’s with you."

Your heart warms.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "You don’t have to take me anywhere, Ellie. I’m not going anywhere."

Ellie watches you for a long moment, then smirks.

"Damn. So I’m stuck with you, huh?"

You laugh, nudging her playfully. "Yeah, pretty much."

Ellie shakes her head, but her smile is full of something deep and unwavering.

"Good," she murmurs.

11. Bill and Frank’s (Unsolicited) Advice

It happens at their house.

Ellie’s sitting on their porch, sulking into a cup of coffee.

Bill sits beside her, arms crossed. Frank leans against the railing, watching with mild amusement.

"Alright," Bill grunts. "Out with it. What’s your problem?"

Ellie sighs. "Nothing, man. Just… thinking."

"Thinking’s dangerous for people like you," Bill mutters.

Frank snickers. "She’s brooding. It’s about her girl, isn’t it?"

Ellie glares. "I don’t brood."

Bill just stares.

Ellie groans, running a hand down her face. "Fine. Whatever. Yeah, it’s about her. It’s always about her."

Frank’s smile softens. "That’s a good thing, you know."

Bill grunts. "Not if she keeps sittin’ here mopin’ instead of just doin’ something about it."

Ellie blinks. "I—what? I have done something about it!"

"Yeah?" Bill raises an eyebrow. "Then why are you still sittin’ here like a kicked puppy?"

Ellie grumbles under her breath.

Frank laughs. "Look, kid. If she forgave you, then let yourself be happy. Don’t waste time waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just… be good to her."

Bill nods. "And don’t fuck it up again."

Ellie snorts. "Yeah. Got it."

But deep down, she knows—she won’t.

12. A Home, Not Just a House

It’s late. The house is quiet, save for the sound of rain tapping against the window.

Ellie lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Then, slowly, she turns—and there you are.

Asleep, peaceful, curled up under the blankets.

Ellie’s heart clenches.

She reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I love you," she whispers.

You stir slightly, eyes barely opening. "Mmm?"

Ellie freezes. "Go back to sleep."

You blink sleepily at her, then smile. Soft. Safe. Home.

"Love you too," you mumble, before nuzzling into her warmth.

Ellie lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

For the first time in a long while, everything feels exactly as it should be.

13. The First Argument (And How They Fix It)

It happens over something stupid.

Ellie forgets to tell you she’s going out on patrol. You wake up to an empty house, her side of the bed cold, and panic sets in.

By the time she gets back, soaked from the rain, tired, and completely unaware of your frustration, you’re pacing the kitchen, arms crossed tight.

"Where the hell were you?" Your voice is sharp, edged with worry.

Ellie blinks. "Uh… patrol?"

"You didn’t tell me."

Ellie furrows her brow, setting down her damp jacket. "Didn’t think I had to. I go all the time."

"Yeah, and usually you say something before you leave."

Ellie scoffs. "Jesus, I didn’t realize I had to check in like a fucking kid."

You flinch. It’s subtle, but Ellie sees it—and immediately regrets it.

You shake your head, stepping back. "That’s not what this is about."

Ellie sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. "Look, I was already late to meet Jesse, and I didn’t wanna wake you. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal."

"Ellie, I woke up and you were gone. No note, nothing. You know what my first thought was? That something happened. That maybe you—" You swallow hard. "That maybe I lost you."

Ellie’s stomach drops.

She’s so used to thinking about protecting you, keeping you safe, that it never really hit her how much you worry about her too.

She steps closer, hands hovering near your arms but not touching, not yet.

"Baby." Her voice is softer now. "I’m sorry."

You look away, jaw tight. "You scared me."

14. The Interventions Begin

Ellie hates herself for this.

The air is still tense when there’s a knock at the door. Before either of you can react, it swings open, and Jesse steps in, soaked from the same rain as Ellie.

"Oh, good. She’s alive. Thought I was gonna have to find her body on your floor." Jesse pauses, taking in the atmosphere. "Whoa. You two fighting? That’s rare."

"Not helping," Ellie mutters.

"You forgot to tell her, didn't you?" Jesse shakes his head, sighing. "Ellie, man, how are you still making rookie mistakes?"

Ellie glares. "Can you go?"

"Oh, hell no." Jesse grins. "I’m staying for this. Go on, continue. I love a good domestic dispute."

Ellie shoots him a look of pure exhaustion, and you cross your arms. "Jesse, get out."

"Fine, fine." He throws his hands up, backing toward the door. "But if you two break up, I got dibs on her."

Ellie nearly lunges at him.

"Kidding! Kidding!" Jesse laughs, shutting the door behind him.

Ellie turns back to you, guilt creeping up her spine all over again.

"I promise—I won’t do that again. I’ll always tell you."

You hesitate, but finally nod.

15. Bill and Frank Give Their (Unsolicited) Advice

Later that evening, you’re at Bill and Frank’s place. You’re still a little distant, curling into Frank’s side on the couch while he rubs your back. Bill is pacing in the kitchen, arms crossed.

"She didn't tell you where she was going?" Bill repeats, his voice sharp.

You shake your head. "Not a word."

Bill scowls. "Oh, she's an idiot."

"Bill," Frank warns gently.

"No, no, I'm serious." Bill gestures wildly. "That girl would riot if you left the house without telling her where you were going. She’d have the whole town on red alert looking for you."

"Yeah, well," you mumble, "she thinks I’m overreacting."

Frank sighs, squeezing your shoulder. "She’s just being dumb, sweetheart. She doesn’t like feeling like she messed up."

Bill scoffs. "Well, she did."

Frank shakes his head. "You love her, though, don’t you?"

Your lips press together. Then, finally: "Yeah. Of course I do."

Bill groans. "Then I guess you have to forgive her. Eventually."

Frank smirks, nudging you. "Make her suffer a little first, though. Just for fun."

That actually makes you laugh.

16. The (Proper) Apology

By the time you get home, Ellie is waiting on the porch, hands in her hoodie pockets, looking like a kicked puppy.

As soon as she sees you, she springs up.

"Baby," she blurts, talking too fast. "Listen, I was a dumbass. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important enough to tell. You’re literally—fuck, you’re the most important thing in my life, okay? I hate that I made you feel otherwise."

Your arms stay crossed.

Ellie rubs the back of her neck, shifting nervously. "I went to talk to Joel, and he said if I ever do it again, he’s gonna ‘knock some goddamn sense into me.’"

You almost smile at that.

"And Bill and Frank?" Ellie grimaces. "Bill called me an idiot about ten times. Frank told me to grovel. So, here I am. Groveling."

She suddenly drops to her knees.

You stare. "Ellie—"

"I beg for your forgiveness, oh love of my life," Ellie declares dramatically. "Smite me not, for I am but a humble fool."

You try to stay mad. You really do. But she looks so ridiculous, soaking wet, on her knees in front of you, pleading like a medieval knight.

Your lips twitch.

Ellie sees it. "Ah-ha! You’re smiling!"

You roll your eyes, sighing. "You’re lucky I love you."

Ellie grins, springing up. "Yeah?"

You shake your head, pretending to be exasperated. "Yeah."

Ellie cups your face, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "I love you more."

You pretend to consider. "Mm. Debatable."

Ellie groans. "Oh, come on—"

You laugh, pulling her inside, shutting the door behind you.

(She never forgets to tell you again.)

17. When It’s Your Fault (And How You Fix It)

It’s bound to happen eventually.

You and Ellie don’t fight often, but when you do, it’s usually her messing up—her being thoughtless, her forgetting to tell you something, her running her mouth.

But this time?

It’s on you.

18. The Mistake

It’s late when Ellie comes home from patrol, soaked, exhausted, and clearly having had a rough day.

You’re supposed to be home, waiting for her. That’s the plan. That’s always the plan.

Instead?

You’re not there.

She checks everywhere. Your house. The stables. The Tipsy Bison. Nowhere.

And just as worry is sinking into her bones—

"Hey, have you seen—"

"Oh, your girl?" Jesse cuts in, amused. "She’s at Bill and Frank’s. Didn’t she tell you?"

Ellie stops cold. "What?"

"Yeah, I saw her heading over earlier. Thought you knew."

Ellie frowns.

You didn’t tell her.

After everything you just fought about a few weeks ago—**after she promised she’d always tell you where she was going—**you just… forgot?

And oh, does it piss her off.

19. The Fallout

You’re sitting at Bill and Frank’s when the door slams open.

Ellie steps inside, dripping wet, pissed off, eyes locked on you.

"Ellie—"

"Really?" Her voice is sharp. "Really, Bunny?"

You blink. "What?"

She laughs dryly. "Oh, don’t ‘what’ me. You know what."

Bill and Frank exchange looks.

"Do we need to leave?" Frank asks, already standing.

"No," Ellie snaps. "Actually, stay. Maybe you two would like to hear how my girlfriend completely ignored our last fight and pulled the same shit on me."

You stiffen. "Ellie, come on, it’s not the same—"

"Not the same?" She scoffs. "You lost your mind when I forgot to tell you I was leaving. You said you panicked. You said it scared you. But when it’s me worrying? Oh, that doesn’t matter, right?"

Your stomach twists.

You didn’t mean to do it. You just got caught up in talking to Frank and completely forgot. But the way Ellie is looking at you?

Like you let her down?

It hurts.

20. Bill and Frank Weigh In (Again)

"Okay, I’m stepping in," Bill interrupts. "Ellie, sit down before you pass out."

Ellie glares, but she does.

Frank leans forward. "Sweetheart," he says to you gently. "You really didn’t tell her?"

You shake your head, feeling small. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" Bill snorts. "You almost took her head off when she forgot."

You wince. "I know."

Frank rubs your shoulder. "You didn’t mean to, but Ellie’s allowed to be upset."

You nod, glancing at her. "I know."

Ellie exhales, scrubbing a hand over her face. Her anger is fading, but the hurt is still there.

Frank nudges Bill. "We should give them space."

"I was enjoying this," Bill grumbles, but he stands anyway.

Before they go, Bill leans toward you. "Apologize. Properly."

Then they’re gone, leaving just you and Ellie.

21. The (Proper) Apology

You sigh, looking at Ellie. "I really am sorry."

Ellie crosses her arms. "Then why’d you do it?"

"I wasn’t thinking. I was talking to Frank, and I just… forgot." You shake your head. "It’s not an excuse, but I swear, it wasn’t intentional."

Ellie exhales, her frustration starting to thaw. "I just—fuck, Bunny. The second I realized you weren’t home, my heart fucking dropped. I thought something happened. Thought I lost you."

You pause.

That’s exactly how you felt when she forgot to tell you.

Your chest tightens. You stand, moving toward her.

"I’m sorry," you say softly. "I hate that I made you feel like that."

Ellie finally uncrosses her arms. "Just—just don’t do it again, okay?"

You nod, stepping closer. "I won’t."

She sighs, pulling you in. "We good?"

You wrap your arms around her. "We’re good."

Ellie kisses your forehead, grumbling, "Next time, I’m putting a tracker on you."

You laugh, hugging her tighter.

(And you never forget to tell her again.)

22. Making It Up to Her (A.K.A. The Cutest Date Night Ever)

A simple apology isn't enough—not for you.

You want Ellie to know how sorry you are. You want to show her just how much she means to you.

So, you come up with a plan.

23. The Setup

It takes a full day of preparation.

You rope in Dina and Jesse first, mostly because Dina loves this kind of thing and Jesse is just along for the ride.

"A date night?" Dina smirks, arms crossed. "To make up for your screw-up?"

"She’s pulling a ‘grand romantic gesture,’" Jesse teases.

You huff. "I just want to do something nice for her."

Dina grins. "Then let’s do this."

Next, you visit Maria and Tommy—because you need a place to set it up.

Maria listens, nodding slowly. "So, let me get this straight—you want to set up some fancy-ass date for Ellie?"

You nod.

Maria exchanges a glance with Tommy, then shrugs. "Alright, let’s make it happen."

Finally, you head to Bill and Frank.

Frank is instantly on board. "Oh, this is adorable. Let’s plan a menu."

Bill, as expected, is grumpy about it. "Why the hell are we all getting involved in their date?"

"Because it’s cute," Frank insists.

"It’s dumb," Bill mutters, but you see the small smirk he’s trying to hide.

24. The Date Night

When Ellie arrives, she’s confused as hell.

"Bunny, what the—"

You grab her hand, grinning. "Just trust me, okay?"

She raises a brow but follows.

The setup is perfect.

Fairy lights drape the wooden beams of the barn. Candles flicker. The table is set with a full dinner—one that you helped Frank cook.

And watching from afar?

Dina, Jesse, Joel, Bill, Frank, Maria, and Tommy.

They’re all hiding behind barrels, fences, and window frames—watching like it’s a damn movie.

"Oh my god," Ellie breathes, looking around. "Babe, did you do all this?"

You nod. "Wanted to make it up to you."

Ellie stares at you—really looks at you.

Then, she smirks.

"You know," she teases, "this is kinda whipped behavior."

From their hiding spot, Jesse stifles a laugh. "She admits it!"

Bill groans. "Jesus Christ."

Joel snorts. "I coulda told you that years ago."

Ellie ignores them, cupping your face. "I love you."

You beam. "Love you more."

She kisses you, slow and sweet.

And from behind you, a chorus of voices yell—

"Finally!"

"Get a room!"

"We set all this up for one kiss?!"

You both laugh, and Ellie pulls you closer.

Tonight?

Yeah.

She’s never loved you more.

25. The Date – Ellie Sees How Sorry You Really Are

Ellie watches you all night.

Not in a casual, playful way. Not in the way she usually does, where she’s smirking like she just won the lottery because she gets to call you hers.

Tonight, she watches you like she’s seeing you for the first time.

And what she sees?

You’re nervous.

Your fingers fidget with the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing and re-smoothing a wrinkle that isn’t even there. You keep glancing at her, then away, like you’re scared of something.

Ellie’s heart tightens.

She realizes—this isn’t just a date to you.

It’s an apology. A real one.

Not because she demanded it. Not because you were afraid she’d leave.

But because you love her that much.

She sets down her fork.

"Babe."

You freeze mid-cut, staring at her.

"Come here."

You blink, confused. "What?"

She just holds out her arms. "Come here."

You hesitate, but eventually, you get up and sit on her lap, your arms around her neck.

Ellie breathes you in.

"You know I forgive you, right?" she murmurs.

You nod against her. "I just—I wanted to do something nice. To make it up to you."

Ellie chuckles softly, pulling back to look at you.

"You didn’t have to do all this, Bunny."

"I wanted to," you insist.

Ellie searches your face. "You always do that. Try to make everything better, even when I don’t ask you to."

Your voice is small. "Because I love you."

That does it.

Ellie tilts your chin up, kisses you slow and deep, and lets herself fall all over again.

Behind you, someone—probably **Jesse—**snickers, "Okay, yeah, this is cute, but is anyone actually gonna eat?"

Dina throws a roll at him.

Bill groans. "For the love of—just marry her already."

Frank grins. "Give them time."

Ellie just presses her forehead to yours.

"Let’s eat, yeah?"

And this time, you smile for real.

Ellie recovers quickly, a slow, cocky smirk pulling at her lips as she leans back in her chair, arms still wrapped around your waist.

She tilts her head at you, eyes soft but teasing.

"Oh, I’ve thought about it," she says smoothly, her voice low and certain. "And when I do it, it’s gonna be perfect. Just gotta make sure our favorite girl here is ready to be stuck with me forever."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

Dina lets out a dramatic gasp. Jesse fake wipes a tear.

Bill just grunts, unimpressed. "Took you long enough to say it."

Frank beams. "Oh, she’s a goner."

Ellie just grins against your cheek, whispering so only you can hear: "Whenever you want me, Bunny. You just say the word."

You grin, eyes locked onto Ellie’s as you lean in just a little, voice dropping into something sweet and dangerous all at once.

"Oh, baby… you really think I’m not already planning how I’m gonna say yes?"

Ellie’s smirk drops. Her breath catches.

Across the table, Joel chokes so hard on his drink that Tommy has to slap his back.

"Jesus Christ, kid!" Joel wheezes.

Tommy, still coughing, gapes at you. "The hell kinda smooth talkin’ was that?!"

Dina and Jesse erupt into laughter, absolutely losing their minds.

Frank? Frank just leans back with a satisfied smile. "Told you. Goner."

Bill shakes his head, grumbling as he takes a sip of his drink. "You two are gonna make me sick."

Ellie?

Ellie just stares at you, like she’s about two seconds away from dragging you out of there and proving just how much of a goner she really is.

Ellie finally blinks, her face so red it nearly matches the Tipsy Bison’s lantern lights. She leans in closer, voice low, teasing but just a little breathless.

"That right, Bunny?" she murmurs, thumb brushing your jaw. "You already got your answer, huh? Should I be worried, or should I be flattered?"

You pretend to think, tilting your head. "Mmm… depends. You planning on making it worth my while?"

Ellie groans, dropping her head against your shoulder, laughing through her flustered state. "You’re gonna kill me, I swear."

Joel, still recovering, wipes his mouth aggressively. "I’m gonna need a damn drink to deal with this."

Tommy nods. "Two."

Dina and Jesse are howling, Jesse literally clutching his stomach.

Frank just sips his drink, grinning. "Oh, she’s got you whipped, alright."

Ellie lifts her head, smirking now, because for the first time in her life—she doesn’t mind hearing it.

"Damn right, I am."

As a new writer on Tumblr, I really appreciate feedback! Please know I love receiving follows, comments, reblogs and likes! it makes me happy knowing my work is appreciated.

[nehi-soda]

Bedroom Ceremonials - Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

“You walk a fine line between god and animal

You’re just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials”

- Dog Days, Ethel Cain.

Summary: His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: P in V sex, ANGST, rough sex, smut, jealous!joel, established relationship, mention of violence (not directed at reader), alcohol, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, makeup sex, oral sex (female receiving), au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is mid 20's Joel is late 40's). No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut or fan fiction. I just had to get some ideas out of my system. Joel is just so Ethel Cain coded.

As you step inside, the weight of the day's stress seems to cling to you like a heavy coat. It's been a rough day, and the unfamiliarity of your new job and home is only adding to your apprehension.

You can't help but feel a pang of longing for your dad's company, and you miss the comfort of having Joel just across the street.

You walk through the door, feeling like a soggy mess after getting caught in the rain on your way home.

Although you've been living there for four weeks now, the space still feels new. You do love it. You enjoy having your own space, being surrounded by your belongings, and having total control over the decor. Joel has personally assembled nearly all the furniture. No longer are you limited to just decorating your childhood bedroom.

However, you're still finding your feet in this new chapter of your life.

After dumping your bag in the hallway, you sigh deeply and release some of the tension that has built up in your neck. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - your mascara is smudged, and your hair is plastered to your face.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes and head to the bathroom to run the shower. As the steam begins to fill the room, you can feel yourself starting to relax.

You're already wrapped in your towel, pacing around your bedroom, when you grab your phone. It's been a busy day, and you haven't had a chance to check your messages. You see that Joel has sent you a few texts that you haven't had a chance to respond to.

Joel: hey baby, hope you have a good day at work x

Joel: hey, me again. Everything ok?

Joel: I figured you’re probably caught up in work stuff. Call me when you’re home.

As you toss your phone onto the bed, your face pulls into a guilty frown. You make a mental note to call Joel as soon as you're out of the shower, but right now, all you want to do is snuggle up in bed. Even though you crave to hear his southern drawl pour out of your phone's speaker like honey, exhaustion had taken over.

You head into the bathroom and swiftly lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water from the shower caresses your neck and chest. As you lather up your hair and body, you feel the day's stress slowly melting away.

Emerging from the shower, your hair still damp and clinging to your back, you tiptoe to your dresser and fish out a pair of checkered sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder grey sweater, which you've cherished for years, proudly displaying "Texas" in bold across the front. You decide to complete the outfit with a pair of comfy cream knee socks for added warmth. They hug your thighs as you towel off your hair.

As you sink into the plush comfort of your bed and listen to the rain beating down on your windows, your thoughts drift to the soothing sound of Joel's voice.

You imagine the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your ear, the scratch of his unshaven jaw grazing the top of your head, and the comforting sensation of his work-worn fingers tracing hypnotic circles on your shoulders.

You yearn for more time with Joel, but it's hard to make it happen with busy schedules. He's been spoilt having you for nearly the entire summer break after graduating from college and now you both are feeling the strain.

Fortunately, he's devised a thoughtful solution - offering to pick you up after work to drop you home to squeeze in some extra quality time. Only this inevitably ends up with him just taking you to his house so he can tangle his fingers in your hair and fuck you senseless all night. Smart plan.

You wake up in his sheets, smelling like him. You always wake up first. You start to get ready for work, stealing glances at him sleeping in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Such a contrast to his demeanour the night before when he gripped your hips so deliciously hard he left bruises, and pulled the fibres of pink tissue from your lips into shreds with his teeth.

You savour a warm cup of his coffee as marmalade sunlight seeps through the curtains, casting golden rays across his head like a halo. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished, and you can’t help but agree. He loves to be so much older than you. He thinks it makes him wise.

You recall your fingers tapping against his bare chest like a spider's legs as you undo his flannel buttons one by one, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso from his physically demanding job. He listens intently as you ramble on about your day, content to let you have the floor. He's not much of a talker, but you don't mind. You love the way he watches you. His eyes glitter like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight, and he smirks when you get flustered. He knows the power he holds over you, and he lets it all go to his head.

He's a man of simple pleasures- clean socks and messy hair. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face against the glass. The memory still makes you feel dizzy.

You believe he walks a fine line between god and animal, like a feral dog you worship in bedroom ceremonials.

Just as your saccharine memories of Joel have lulled you to sleep, you hear a loud hammering at the door. You jolt awake, panicked and disorientated, feeling like you’ve been ripped away from paradise.

Groggily, you fumble around the sheets for your phone, finding it still in the same spot where you tossed it earlier. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep; they peer at the illuminated screen displaying 11:11.

You see a barrage of missed calls from Joel. Your heart races as you wonder what could be so urgent. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks - you’d forgotten to call him….

You take in your surroundings- the deep blue hue of your room and the persistent pounding at your front door. You scramble out of bed and rush through the hallway.

You fumble with the lock and swing the door open to find Joel standing there, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity you've never seen before. His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice sharp and accusatory with a southern edge. “I've been callin' and textin' all day, and you couldn't even bother to respond?” He barges past you. The sound of heavy footsteps resonates through the living room as Joel paces back and forth. The tension in the air is palpable, hanging thick like the storm clouds outside. You watch him, tugging on your sleeves and shuffling your socks against the wood floor.

“Joel, I'm sorry. It was just a hectic day, and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to ignore you." You answer, still caught off guard by his unexpected visit.

His expression tightens, and he steps closer, invading your personal space. “Lost track of time? Or were you with someone else, huh? Is that what's goin' on?"

Your heart feels heavy with hurt. "Joel, no! I would never—" He cuts you off, his frustration escalating.

"Don't give me that. You've been distant lately, and now this? I'm not stupid. If you're messin’ around, just be honest about it.” The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. Whiskey you guess. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to make him understand.

"Joel, I'm not cheating on you. It's just been a tough transition with the new job and all. I've been overwhelmed." Your heart pounding now.

He carries on prowling around your living room.

“What, you think I’ve been fucking one of my co-workers on the side?” you continue, struggling to focus on his face as your vision blurs from the tears.

His face is shrouded in the darkness of your living room. He casts a long shadow on your walls. “Overwhelmed or not, you should have found a moment to let me know. Ignorin' me ain't fair.” His words come out with a coldness that makes a lump develop in your throat. You nod, a tear escaping and trailing down your cheek. "You're right. I should have communicated better. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Damn it, I care about you. I can't stand feelin’ like I don't even know where you are."

"Joel, please," you plead, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out strained. You can’t help but feel pathetic. "Let's talk about this. I don't want things to be like this."

He halts his pacing, shooting you a glare that cuts through the air like lightning. "Talk? We've been needin' to talk for a while now. You've been avoidin' it”.

You take a deep breath; your lips tremble now. "I know. I've been caught up in everything; I don’t want to think about anything when I'm with you. That’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Joel's gaze narrows, his lips forming a tight line. The room feels charged with his lingering anger. He releases a sigh and his eyes soften slightly.

"I get it. Life can throw a whole mess of things at us; sometimes it feels like we're drownin'. But keepin' things bottled up and shuttin’ me out ain't the answer baby girl," he says, his Southern drawl carrying a touch of sweetness. You nod again the tears are now streaming down your face.

“I just… I don't want to burden you with my problems. I want our time together to be a safe space from all the chaos."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but we can't keep playin' these games. I ain’t one of your lil’ college boyfriends, okay. If you got a problem, we face it together. That's what bein' in a grown-up relationship is about." His tone bites.

You nod again, a heavy weight settling in your chest. "You're right. I messed up. I want to fix it, Joel." The desperation in your voice echoes, and you feel like a rabbit pleading into the blinding headlights of an oncoming car.

He steps closer, his hand warm on your cheek as you lean into his touch. "I appreciate that, darlin', but we're in this together.” His words are unexpectedly soft.

"You're right. I shouldn't have shut you out,” you mumble.

His darkened eyes threaten to swallow you up as they gaze into yours. He makes you feel… nervous. His mere presence has this effect, leaving you feeling exposed as your emotions betray you, slipping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. In this vulnerable moment, you're reminded of how much he loves it when you’re so needy. The contrast between your sleep clothes and his work attire makes you feel small. You wonder why he hadn’t changed out of them before coming over?

Joel had been back from work hours before he arrived at your apartment. He paced anxiously in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand, work-worn jeans, and boots still on. He pours himself another whiskey and slams it down on the coffee table as his mind swims with thoughts of you with another man. Joel knew he was jumping to conclusions but how else could he explain your distance lately? He knew you were too good for him. He just knew how everyone turned to look at you when you entered the room. You were too damn pretty for your own good. His jaw clenched at the thought of another man’s hands roaming over your perfect body. His grip tightened on his whiskey glass before smashing it against the wall in frustration.

He storms outside into the rain to his truck.

On his way to your apartment his eyes are wild on the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.

“God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he hisses between his teeth. Joel's hands, calloused and strong, cradle your face delicately.

“We'll figure it out, darlin'. Together. No more keepin' things from each other. Deal?" His voice warm and husky.

You smile as he buries your face into his still-wet chest. "Deal." You sigh.

He withdraws from you and firmly holds your chin, trailing kisses over your wet cheeks. He finds your lips and presses his mouth against yours. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He tastes like whiskey.

Joel switches his grip from your chin to the back of your thighs as he lifts you in his strong arms. You feel his muscles flexing, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards your bedroom. When you’re in his arms you’re convinced that nothing in the world could harm you.

Your heart races against your chest as he navigates the familiar terrain of your room. He places you gently on the bed, and the mattress yields to the shape of your body. Joel hovers above you, his eyes locked onto yours, dancing a shade of midnight. The soft illumination of moonlight casts shadows on his face, emphasizing the strong contours of his nose and face.

You can hear the muted sounds of rain outside, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the rhythmic cadence of your breathing.

Joel's hands, now free from supporting your weight, shed his soaked jacket. You peer up at him as you work on your own sweater and discard it over your head. Your skin erupts in goosebumps with the exposure of your breasts. Your chest rising and falling steadily, nipples puckered like rosebuds. His eyes skate over your body with glint of hunger. You snake your hands underneath his shirt. He gets the idea and pulls his shirt off too.

You pull him closer into you with your legs as you writhe around underneath him, heels digging into his lower back. He leans over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. Profanities escape his breath as he ruts his hips into yours. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans becoming more prominent.

His kisses are now nips, blooming blue and violet markings along your throat and collar bone. You grip at the roots of his hair, and extend your neck further to give him some extra room.

“Joel, please,” you wimper as you throw your head back into the bed.

He hums against your throat, and it sends tingles down your body.

“I want you,” you continue to whine.

You feel him grin and pull back. He shuffles himself off the bed and kneels on the floor. You take a hard swallow as he works at the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off along with your panties in one swift motion. He runs his hands along your knee socks playfully.

“These can stay,” he declares with a deep voice that reverberates across the room.

His head is low and in line with your bare throbbing pussy. You chew your lip as he settles down between your thighs.

His hot breath ghosts across your needy clit as he holds your thighs in place.

He starts sucking on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Little breaths escape your mouth.

“Fuck Joel.” You let out, gripping at the bed sheets.

He continues working at your clit. His beard on his chin pressed firmly against your entrance. The scratch is almost sore but mixed with the waves of pleasure emitting from his lips, you don’t care.

“Jo- Joel,…I-,” you can no longer string a sentence together.

“Use your words baby,” he mumbles against you.

"I-I don't even… want you to e-eat my pussy. I just… want your c-cock in my pussy," you whine, eyes pressed shut. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Huh? Well, what do we say when we want somethin’?" Joel teases, glancing over you, observing your growing distress.

“P-please,” your lips quiver.

“Good girl.” He coos, shifting to stand over you like a phantom in the dark.

You hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans to step out of them. He returns to the space between your legs reaching into his boxers to free his cock. The head looks angry and is leaking precum. He leans over you, and lines up to your entrance and pauses.

“Are you going to be good and answer your phone when I call?” He spits. A sheen of sweat forms on his skin, making his hair cling to his forehead.

“Huh…yeah…. I’ll be g-good I promise.” You moan, desperate for the stretch of his cock.

He slides into you, and you can't help but gasp. You're always so surprised by his sheer size. You wince as you try to adjust to accommodate him inside you.

“Ah…fuck.” He grunts, slowly building momentum in his thrusts. “Always, so tight for me baby.”

Your mouth falls open as the familiar swirl of your release is already growing in the pit of your stomach. Your nails carve small crescents into his sides as you clutch onto him.

Fuck, you needed this. You needed the stress to be fucked out of you.

More mumbles and moans slip from your mouth as you’re rocked into the bed, becoming more and more cock drunk.

“Such a good girl takin’ all of me.” Joel grits. His southern twang stronger when he's all riled up. His thrusts hit deeper, hitting a spot inside you so delicious it threatens to push you over the edge.

You pull your legs up higher around him, your hands cradle your toes just to give you something to cling onto. He felt like he was splitting you open. Filling you to the hilt.

The filthy sound of the bed creaking and the slapping of skin filled the room.

His hand moves to clasp around your throat, and you blink up at him, pupils blown out wide.

"Tell me you're my lil’ slut.” he spits.

"I-I'm your lil' slu-slut,” you cry out, your words catching in your throat.

“um…yes, you are darlin’, and don’t you forget it,” Joel whispers darkly in your ear.

“Now cum for me.” He grunts.

“Cum-for-me-prin-cess.” Each syllable punctuated with a hard thrust. His hips meeting yours. You were definitely going to feel it in the morning.

You feel your climax edging to the forefront and his words are enough to send you spiralling.

“Joel-fuck!” You pant as your muscles pull taught in your stomach, and your legs shake.

“That’s my baby.” He encourages you past the point of no return and you sink into your orgasm. You grip his cock tight like a vice and it’s too much for him. His orgasm spirts out hot. His cock pulsating inside you as he collapses his head into your neck.

“Oh fuck, baby, so good!” He exclaims- emptying his balls into you. You feel his spent spilling inside.

He peels himself off you and pulls out with a wince. You feel so painfully empty without him buried deep inside you, occupying every one of your senses.

He pulls you into the duvet and holds you close. You feel his warmth seeping into your bones. You both lie there with ragged breaths and oxytocin coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, he swipes some stray hairs from your face as you nestle into his chest panting.

You lie there for a while watching the raindrops race each other on the windowpane, each tiny droplet leaving a fleeting mark on the glass. You can hear the steady beat of Joel’s heart under you. You were wiped out, eyes beginning to flutter closed.

In the quiet of your little cocoon, the minutes stretch like molasses until Joel breaks the comfortable silence.

With his arms wrapped around you, he whispers, “We'll face whatever comes together, darlin’," and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You feel his warmth and love, and you know that you're not alone.

divider credit to @saradika

[vivian-pascal]

Temptations

sub!Javier x dom!reader

summary: Being next door neighbors with Javier is a pain, he's always inviting people over and you can never get any peace or quiet. But when he comes to apologize, you know just what to do.

warnings: mention of sex, reader has breasts, javi being pussy drunk, piv (wrap it up), oral m!receiving, edging, teasing, mommy kink, nipple play, handjob, oral f!reveiving

authors note: hey!! this is the 200 followers special, I hope you all enjoy!

It was easy, moving to Bogata three years back. You'd already spoken fluent Spanish since your parents were born in Columbia and it was good to communicate with the fellow people of the city. The one thing that bothered you the most was heat, and, well, Javier Pena.

You could say they were the same thing. Heat and Javi. He was your next door neighbor in your little apartment complex. He'd said hello to you a couple times and even tried to flirt with you. Which never ended well of course. You would get scared and go into your apartment just leaving him there.

It's not like you could get rid of him either, he was right next to you. Literally. Today was just like any other day living next to him. You were just trying to have some nice, warm, soup while reading your book when you heard moaning and grunting. Not again.

You rose from your chair as you put your book down. You couldn't deal with this again so you walked out of your apartment and knocked on his door. You waited a little bit as you heard some chatter on the other end before Javier answered the door.

Seeing him shirtless, sweaty, and still hard in his boxers made you instantly wet and sticky inside. You cleared your throat before speaking. "Hey, do you mind keeping it down? I'm trying to have a relaxing night in and you're making too much noise."

He looks down at you and chuckles. "Not today mi hermosa." And with that, he shuts the door straight in your face. How rude. You angrily stomp back into your apartment as you hear them resume their "interrupted" spicy time.

You go into your kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with whiskey, you down it in one go. Setting it aside your sink deciding that you'll clean it tomorrow. You walk upstairs and head into your room. You get changed out of your comfy clothes and into a robe. Once you're in bed, you turn your lamp off and close your eyes.

You're roughly woken up when you suddenly hear knocking on your front door. You reach over and check the time to see it's not even midnight. You roll your eyes as you get out of bed and walk downstairs. You look through the peep hole and see that it's Javier.

You unlock the door a little as you look at him. He lifts his head and slowly begins to examine you. "Yes?" You look at him in frustration as he just stares. He clears his throat and adjusts his jacket. "Hey."

You look at him as you try and prod more information out of him on why exactly he's here. "Is that all Javi or what the hell?" His eyes are glued to your chest and he closes his eyes as he leans his weight on his right leg. "No, just, your robe." He opens his eyes and points to your chest.

When you look down, you can see your bare breast hanging out. "Shit." You try and quickly cover it with your hand as you tie your robe tighter around your body. "Well thanks." You roll your eyes as you begin to close the door but he leans his hand against it, stopping you.

He's so close. You can smell the faint scent of the whiskey he might've just had mixed with the smell of sex and cigarettes.

"I want to apologize." The fuck? The Javier Pena is apologizing. Never in a million years would you have thought that could be true. You crack a smile as you cross your arms in disbelief. His brows furrow when he sees your little smirk. "Okay then, what exactly are you sorry for Javier?" He groans at hearing his name roll so smoothly off your tongue.

"For bringing girls over, it's rude you know?" You scoff out a laugh. "You're joking right?" He shakes his head as he looks at you with those puppy eyes. You grab onto his jacket as you pull him inside your apartment. "I'm not amused by that Javi, I think I should show you how a good boy apologizes."

His eyes instantly go wide at hearing what you just said. He's never been in this situation before but he is livid. You drag him over and push him down onto a chair. "Take your jacket and shirt off, keep those jeans on." He nods at your command as he begins to remove his clothes.

You sit and admire at his quick work when he's removed both items you'd told him to take off. You stand up and sit on his lap. You lean in close to his face and direct your head so your mouth is level with his ear. "Now, you're going to listen to me, and me only. Whatever I say, you do. Got it?" He quickly nods his head as he closes his eyes.

"Oh and one more thing." You sit up and look at his face. You tilt his head up with your hand so you make sure he's looking directly at you. "You don't call me any other name but, Mommy."

His eyes instantly widen. He groans at your words. You can feel how hard he is in his jeans and you love it. You slowly begin to drag your nails along his bare chest and down to his happy trail.

He groans at the feeling and thrusts his hips up into you. You bring your hands to his head and run your fingers through his curls. "Take my robe off Javi." He looks at you in a silent agreement as he slowly moves his delicate fingers along the silky fabric. He grabs onto the two strings and pulls them apart.

He lets the robe fall and opens his mouth in awe at your gorgeous body. "Hermosa" You chuckle at his sneaky pet name and grab onto both of his hands. You lean closer to him as you carefully bring his hands behind the chair. "You keep them like this. Don't move them." He nods at your rules and you begin to stand up.

He watches your every move like a hawk hunting for it's prey. His beautiful, chocolate eyes now a harsh shade of black as he sees you get down on your knees between his legs. You drag your nails along his covered thighs and down to his feet.

You carefully remove his shoes and throw them close to the door. You sit up on your thighs as you carry your nails to the zipper of his jeans. Your eye level with his very obvious hard on, and you decide to play a little game.

You gently drag your nails over his covered dick and he groans at the contact. You begin to rub against the fabric and his face distorts in pleasure. Your nails drag up to his zipper and slowly pull it down.

"No boxers? Isn't that just a sweet surprise." You chuckle lowly as he lets out a little whimper. "Carino." He warns as you push his pants down all the way, removing it from his ankles and throwing it next to his shoes. "Se buena para mi Javi." He rolls his head back against the chair as you gently rest a hand on his leaking cock.

He's big. You'd known that from the start and you just can't wait to get him inside of you, but first, he needs to learn some proper manners.

You begin to slowly rub your hand up and down his shaft. Making sure to pay extra attention to his leaking tip. Dragging your nail on the underside of his cock while the other slowly teases his balls.

He moans when you squeeze his aching cock and thrusts his hips into your hand. Your movements stop immediately and he whines as he looks down at you in a silent plea to keep going.

"Javier, what did I say?" He groans as you begin to work him up again. "Javi?" He whines as he looks at you. "To only do what you say." You nod your head as you begin to lick a long stripe up his cock. Your nose just about tickles his coarse hairs as you squeeze his balls. He lets out a loud growl at the feeling and grips the legs of the chair.

His legs begin to shake when you take him in your mouth. Gagging on his cock as he hits the back of your throat. His breathing starts to pick up and just when he's about to come, you pull off.

He lets out a shattering cry. "The fuck did you do that for?" You look at him from where you're sat and he instantly regrets saying that. "I'm sorry." You sit up and rest your thighs on his legs. "What'd you just say to me?" You look him in the eye as you grab onto his cock and forcefully tug. He grits his teeth as he curls his toes.

"I didn't mean it just please." You run your thumb along his slit and his eyes roll back. "Please what?" He hums as you begin to rub your seeping pussy over his dick. "Please mommy." You chuckle as you grab onto one of his nipples and twist it. "Good boy."

He moans at the new feeling and you sink down onto him. His mouth drops into an O shape and you moan at his thick girth. Your thighs meet his and he grits his teeth. You begin to slowly roll your hips against his and he thrusts up into you. You start to bounce up and down on his cock and he whimpers as his mind begins to race.

"Mommy wait-" You don't stop your movements as you begin to kiss his chest. He groans and grits as he tries to stop himself but he just can't hold it any longer. His legs begin to shake and you only realize what's happening when he lets out a long, guttural, groan.

You feel his hot seed spill inside you. It doesn't seem to stop. Just an endless stream of liquid filling you up to the brim. When his hips come to a stutter and stop, you look down and see the mess he's made.

"Well that's not very lady like now is it? Making a mess all over mommy." You dip your fingers between your cunt and his dick, grabbing some of his cum and reaching it up to your face. You insert your fingers into your mouth and suck off his cum.

You can feel his dick twitch inside you as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You get off of him and he groans at the loss.

You move your body up and onto his belly as you grab his hair and yank him onto your pussy. "Be a good boy and make me come." He moans as he gets the first taste of your cunt.

He laps at his cum and your arousal while burying his nose on your clit. You begin to slowly grind on his face as he sticks his tongue into your weeping hole. "Fuck." You reach up and play with your nipples. Squeezing and rubbing at the delicate skin to add to the sensation.

He shakes his head back and forth and you moan aloud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Jesus Javi, oh God." He brings his hands up from behind the chair and grabs onto your thighs, pushing you further down onto him.

You know he broke a rule but you're too caught up in the moment that you couldn't care less. His movements speed up and you're immediately coming. You moan and whine as he drinks everything that comes out of you.

He rests his head on your belly as you reach behind and grab onto his legs for support. You're both breathing heavily and you begin to stroke his hair. "You okay?" He looks up at you and smiles. "Si mami." You smirk as you reach up and kiss him. You look outside and still see that it's dark. "You wanna be a good boy?" He nods his head as you scrape your nails through his scalp.

"How about you make up for coming before I told you too?"

translations-

si mami- yes mommy

carino- darling

se buena para mi Javi- be good for me javi

hermosa- beautiful

tags!!

@kotourasan123 @heartramen @tupelomiss @simplewanderer @amyispxnk @ursagittariusgirlfriend  @livingonthehems @heartpascalispunk @pinkcrystal44 @iamsherlocked

[scoutswritingcorner]

Harder Than It Looks

Angel Dust x Male!Reader

A/N: Sorry if this seems ooc I haven’t written for Angel Dust before and I haven’t written for a little while now. I am so sorry in advance. This is a sensitive topic and I am in no way a medically trained individual, please if you need medical help. Please reach out.

TW: Talks of addiction, alcoholism, talk about death and throwing up. 18+ for those topics. If this bothers you in anyway please do not read.

You didn’t remember what happened fully, it was supposed to be a night out with some old friends of yours from when you were alive. It was only supposed to be a night out with eating and minimal partying- in fact you would’ve been fine not partying at all, you would just be happy stuffing your face full of food at your favorite restaurant. The same restaurant you took your amazing and loveable boyfriend on your first date together. How could this ruin your favorite place- all of your hard work of your rehabilitation. You felt like you wanted to fucking throw up.

But you carried yourself drunkenly through the streets of hell, your head felt heavy and your vision was blurred with every step. The rain hit your hot face hard and it didn’t feel like the good kind of cold rain after a long hot day. Your clothes were thoroughly soaked as if Lucifer himself was reminding you that you were in Hell for a reason; in life you were a heavy drinker- you never dared to hit anyone in your life, not after what you promised to your Mother. So you stayed at local bars and clubs drinking your days away, begging for the elected poison to end your life and finally one day it did. You didn’t want to think of how your Mother found her only baby boy slumped down in his car after drinking his life away, you didn’t dare think about her wailing. 

You don’t remember pushing the doors to the hotel open or how long it took you to get to the hotel. Pushing your way through Charlie and Vaggie as you sobbed out, all of your progress was ruined and now? They surely hated you; Angel Dust will hate you when he sees how fucked you looked. The stairs seemed endless to your room but you kept pushing on between broken sobs and heaves of air that never seemed to be collected in your own lungs before it was violently ripped from your chest. Reaching your shared room with Angel, you almost tripped over poor little Fat Nuggets as you threw open the bathroom door, hopefully not breaking anything in the process. You threw yourself towards the toilet before allowing yourself to throw up all the food and alcohol. Your body wracked with each sob and heave of trying to get rid of the substances in your body, unbeknownst that your boyfriend had followed you into the bathroom.

How could you not notice the drinks- how your ‘friends’ constantly flagged down the waitress whispering something to her. Fuck, you were stupid. “It’s alright, Handsome. Let it out” Angel’s voice cut through the sobs and dry heaving into the toilet. His warm hands rubbing your back as he coaxed the soaking wet jacket off your body. You don’t remember him calling out for you or when he let a pair of his hands run through your soaking hair, brushing it back as you sobbed out. “I was so fucking stupid..I was so close but I..I thought they would be different.” you sobbed clinging to the toilet bowl like it was your life line. Your body was so tired, you wanted to give in and let yourself collapse but you couldn’t not when you felt Angel pull you flush against his body. “Shh, it’s going to be alright, Suga’.” he whispered out softly like any louder would scare you. 

“They tricked me, ‘Tony…they kept getting me drinks and feeding me like I was some fucking lamb sent to the slaughter house.” You hissed out trembling in his hold as he carefully helped you out of your rain soaked clothes. “Gonna wrap you up in a towel so you get nice and dry okay? Then we can get in some comfy clothes and lay in bed.” He calmly replied as he kissed your cheek. “Can..Can Fat Nuggets snuggle with us?” You asked the familiar feeling of warmth as a towel was wrapped around your trembling frame and how Angel chuckled, a smile forming on his lips. “Of course, Handsome.” He cooed out easily picking you up.

It was a blur of slurred words and slow movement, you were curled up into Angel Dust as his hands rubbed your back and another pair brushed back your hair as you tried to stay awake. Fat Nuggets curled in your arms already asleep after forgiving you with soft headbutts and nuzzles. “Are you mad at me, ‘Tony?” you asked after a few moments ignoring how your body trembled almost violently. Angel smiled and let his hand run down to caress your cheek, “Not at all, Baby..I was just worried when I got a call from Charlie saying you ran into the hotel almost throwing up on your own shoes.” he replied pulling your body closer as another tremble ran through your body, kissing your forehead.

 “Go to sleep, Baby. I’ll watch over you.” You nodded at him allowing your eyes to finally close. You were safe with him and Fat Nuggets between your arms. He wouldn’t let anyone harm you if he had a say in it.

~~~

A/N: First post in a long ass time. If you guys like this, I'll gladly do a second part of this.

[theemporium]

could you maybe do a sirius x fem reader where he's feeling in a cuddly mood but r is too hot bc of summer and just being grumpy? and he's jus all pouty and wants to be held and kissed, please and thank you xx

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Baby—”

“I’m comfy.”

“That’s great for you but—”

“I just wanna show you I love you!”

“Sirius,” you let out a groan, a small huff of frustration following as you sunk back against the sheets. Your eyes narrowed at the ceiling. “I’m fucking sweating my tits off, please let me go.”

Warm weather was a rarity in Britain, everyone knew as much. The country was made for rainy days, nipping winds and stormy nights. On the odd day of warm weather, it would be enough for people to abandon their jackets and get out their shorts for the few hours of sunshine they got.

But this? This was hell.

The weather forecast had warned about a heatwave, though most citizens rolled their eyes. Britain doesn’t get heatwaves. It seemed nonsensical to even think as much. But then the weekend hit, the temperatures went up and now you were dealing with the consequences of the houses being insulated to keep heat in, rather than air conditioned and ventilated.

“But I just wanna hug you,” he groaned as he nuzzled his head further against your stomach. “C’mon, love, let’s take a nap.”

The whole house was stuffy, your body felt like every inch was covered in clammy sweat and the fact your boyfriend was a fucking walking heater a majority of the time wasn’t helping. The sheets felt like they were sticking to you, the duvet felt claustrophobic and the heavy mass of your clingy boyfriend wrapping his body around you was only making you snappier.

“A nap?” You seethed before scoffing. “Absolutely not, I need to be sitting in a freezer right now.”

“Just use a cooling charm,” he murmured.

“I am,” you snapped before letting out a heavy sigh. “You’re too warm to cuddle with right now.”

Sirius raised his head, a pout on his lips as he stared up at you with big, doe eyes. “I just want some love.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Sirius sniffled. “Prongs would cuddle with me.”

“Then go annoy Potter,” you grumbled as you tried to wiggle out of his hold once again. “I’m gonna go stand in the shower until I feel like an ice cube.”

Sirius’ apprehension quickly disappeared, and was replaced with a knowing grin. “Got room for one more?”

“And let you hog the cold water?” You scoffed with a smile. “As if, baby.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “You’re a cruel woman.”

“I’m a dying woman,” you corrected as you finally managed to scramble out of his hold and get off the bed. You turned back around, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on his lips before swiftly moving out the way before he had a chance to pull you back down onto the bed. “I love you, but not that much.”

Sirius snorted. “I love you too, babe.”

.

[lizzy019]

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝐼𝓁𝓁𝓊𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃?

Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader [Reader is described as confident… for the plot]

cw -> light praise, fingering, p in v, light cum play

Word Count -> 1.2K

Sitting in the house aimlessly flicking through the TV channels, your eyes flutter lazily from exhaustion. It’s only 11:30 in the night, almost midnight.

The channel you’re watching currently shows nothing other than some drama show, but it tends to the ache of your boredom for the moment.

A sudden knock at your door has you jolt upright in bewilderment, but you shut off the TV and begrudgingly arise from your comfort on the sofa to go check who wanted your attention so late in the evening.

You unlock the door’s lock, swinging it open to see Johnny with a tired expression. Instantly, your back straightens as you look more presentable.

“Johnnycake! I didn’t expect to see you tonight. What’s up?” You asked benevolently, posture straight to push out your chest.

His eyes trail over your body mistakenly, taking in your lovely form in such comfy and careless attire. You’re so beautiful.. even with confidence oozing out of you.

“I- uh.. my parents are fightin’ again, wanted me to be the middleman and take the hits. Can I hang out here with ya, sugar?” He asked so politely, hands obviously fiddling in nervousness in his pockets.

You nodded with a warm smile, hand on his back as you pulled him in from the cold of the night’s wind. 

The way he so gingerly stumbled in from tripping over the little ledge on the door made you smile as you gently stabled him. 

You gently sat him on the sofa, replacing his jean jacket with a blanket to properly warm him. The next minute, you were cuddled by his side and let him use your chest as a pillow.

The two of you were all warm and snuggled, his hands occasionally coming to squeeze the flesh of your breasts.

This had you snickering occasionally, but also a tad bit nervous. To be honest, you were a bit of a prude.

“Johnny? What the hell are ya doin’?” You asked curiously, instantly reddening and panicking when he pulled down the shirt you were wearing just enough to have a breast pop out for him to access.

A surge of mortifying worry consumes you as he mouths your nipple, licking and sucking like it’s his damned lifeline. And honestly.. it was in a way.

All you provided for him was comfort and love, a place for him to stay in the midst of his life’s chaos. You were his everything, more than just physically, but also mentally and emotionally.

He wanted to pay you back.

Even if he was nervous too, you two started slow. Little kisses out of shyness until you both worked up courage to go farther.

You pulled away to tug at his shirt, signaling you wanted it off as he did as told. While he was scared to show bruises from his parents’ beatings, he loved and trusted you wholeheartedly.

A smile came to your lips, hands running all along his torso to simply admire him. Even if his ribcage was prominent from the lack of food in his household, he was still so handsome.

Johnny’s hands came to your shirt to take it off, but your hands flung to stop him. He got confused real quick.

“Huh? Baby, what’s a’matter? Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” He asked so softly, with so much concern too.

You could only give a shy chuckle, stumped but inevitably giving in to his word. You were embarrassed. Sure, you had confidence, but he was out of your league!

“I.. I’m fine, I promise! I’m just a bit nervous..” You assured him, one hand on his cheek while the other held his wrists from getting your shirt off.

Oh, his expression couldn't get sweeter. Eyes once filled with fear were now warm and comforting, hands moving to gently cup your hips and press the sweetest kiss to your soft mouth.

“Baby, I took mine off n you know how I feel about my body.. Can I see yours too? No judgment, promise.” He assured you with the sweetest tone.

How could you possibly say no to him of all people?

With a hesitant nod of your head and that benevolent smile on your lips, he gently took off your little tee and let his eyes widen.

“Damn sugar, what a sight.” 

Your face gets hot with embarrassment, a soft giggle escaping your throat as he kisses you more emotionally. Not lustfully or passionately, more like he feels lucky and cherishes you.

Kisses have turned into hickeys and love bites, his hand meticulously massaging your swollen clit as your hand comes to play with his cute pink nipples.

This lasts for who knows how long, and eventually he can’t take it anymore and chucks his pants off.

Your face gets hot in embarrassment and fear, what if he doesn't like it? What if it doesn't feel good for him?

You were shy and nervous, worried about things you knew you shouldn't worry about. Before you could protest, it was like a sword was sheathed on a pedestal, and his cock was inside your walls.

It was sharp pain for a moment, a cry escaping you before everything seemed to get better.

“Oh baby, yes! Feels so good, oh God-!” Johnny hiccuped through moans and gasps, hands finding your waist and holding you tight.

Writhing in the pleasure, you squirm and moan, lash out and cry, it was mind numbing how good this felt.

Sure, your mortification was prominent, but Johnny’s words did a lot to assure you of your preciousness. He was moaning your name, how could you feel otherwise?

The cord in your stomach began tightening, and it was doing the same to your inner walls. Pussy cramping his cock had him shivering, a guttural groan resonating deep from his throat.

“Oh sugar, I’m gettin’ close! Where do ya want it? You on the pill?” He asked in a flurry, eyes nearly spewing tears from the pleasure.

His question made your mind tense in worry, but you were on birth control so it wouldn't be bad. You nodded your head to signal that you were indeed on the pill, hands finding his shoulders while your nails dug little crescent shapes into the flesh.

“Inside.. it’s okay, do it inside! Oh fuck, Johnny!” You cried out, with what little energy you had left as your orgasm hit you like a wall.

The pleasure had you dizzy, lightheaded from so much emotion and physical enjoyment that your mind just couldn't keep up.

Your orgasm obviously made him climax as well, and he shot his load deep to paint your walls white. It was nice in a way, being so close with someone other than a friend.

Johnny looked at your core oozing his cum and your own, and as if it was instinct, he scooped some out with two fingers and smeared it on your makeup.

While this had you stunned and a bit disgusted, the look on his face showed pure amazement and joy from such a sight.

It was now 1 in the morning, you two cuddled up in your bed after a shower that you shared together. It was cramped, but it was cozy.

Johnny was constantly smiling at you, even with his damned eyes closed. You were so gorgeous, how could he resist a few peeks of his loveliest?

You’d fallen asleep, too tired from such a pleasure filled night to care about anything anymore.

“Sweet dreams, sugar.” Was all you heard before you fully drifted off into a heavenly sleep.