#but in this there were only a few times I really just did not care about the latest fetch quest and wanted to get back to the relationships

[celiababy]

already in love w ur page! i would love to see dads bestfriend joel from you!!

hi! thank u sm!! and ofc coming right up on a very hot and steamy platter 😛

Not Your Daddy

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You're back from your first year at college. You've changed and Joel is quick to notice.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (36/19), swearing, p in v, size kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem!recieving) no Sarah, alcohol

Celia's note: Heres jus a lil something :) (not proofread sorry) also part 3 of ain't right is coming so so soon I promise!!

Joel Miller and your father were good friends.

When you and your dad moved in next door a little over three years ago, they hit it off quickly. Their tendency to take on random jobs for cash is what bonded them. Also sports.

You were shy then, never able to hold eye contact and always avoiding him whenever he was around.

But thankfully, you've grown into a woman. Your first year at college changed you.

Now, you were back for the summer, eager to sleep in your own bed and spend time with your home-town friends.

But honestly, you were most excited to see Joel.

You wanted him to see how much you've grown. See how mature you've become, how confident.

You always had a little crush on him—mostly because he was the kindest out of all your dad's friends.

You also wanted him to be the one to pop your cherry.

You were a virgin, and kinda always fantasized about Joel being the one to take it from you.

Sure, you’ve done some stuff with guys, but never gone all the way. You were saving that for him.

You knew it wouldn't take long until he made an appearance.

Your dad had offered to host a small get-together to celebrate you being back. He would barbecue in the backyard and hold bets for the basketball game.

It was really just an excuse for him to break out the grill and gamble, but you didn't care. Only because you knew Joel would be there.

You even put on your shortest white sundress and blew out your hair for the occasion.

Your body was buzzing with the idea of seeing him again.

You wondered if he had changed at all.

Your mind started spiraling at the thought.

What if he had changed? What if he was dating someone now? What if he was engaged?

You glanced in the mirror at your nearly perfect reflection and suddenly felt so silly. What if this was all for nothing?

You didn't have long to ponder that thought because the doorbell rings.

You peak out your window and see Joel's truck in the driveway.

Your dad answers the door downstairs, the faint murmur of voices distracting your ears.

The anticipation was gnawing at you like a hungry dog.

After collecting your nerves, you slowly descend the stairs to meet them in the kitchen.

The loud cussing gave away their location. "You've lost your damn mind if you think there's a chance in hell the Privateers of all fucking teams are gonna beat—oh, hey darlin'," Your dad greets you, clearing his throat like he wasn't just cussing out Joel.

His back is to you, but when he turns around, your heart fucking ignites.

He's just as handsome as the day you left. He looks momentarily stunned by you, his eyes flickering all over your figure. God—how was it possible for someone to change so much? You looked more than amazing.

He immediately feels ashamed for basically checking you out in front of your dad, his eyes snapping back up to your face.

"Christ kid, they feedin' you up there at A&M?" He teases before stepping in for a hug.

He even smells the same as he did all those months ago, pine and smoke. You feel relieved.

It seems like the only thing thats different about him is a few gray hairs.

"Hey Joel," you greet with a giddy smile, hugging him back and relishing in his warmth. "How are you?"

Joel is very surprised. He almost doesn't recognize you. You're so much more...more.

"M'alright, aside from the fact that your dad's gonna give me a fuckin' aneurysm one of these days."

You laugh and shake your head. "Fighting about the game tonight?"

"Yeah, this fuckin' asshat thinks the longhorns might lose tonight—messin' up the whole fuckin' mojo," Your dad rambles, his voice beginning to raise before the doorbell rings again. "I'll get that, need to get away from this traitor." He snorts before heading to the door and leaving you both alone.

Joel rolls his eyes before landing his gaze back onto you and your cute little sundress. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face you with his body.

"You behavin' up there at school?" He asks light-heartedly, though you find it excruciatingly hard not to reply in some suggestive way.

"Mhm," You hum unconvincingly with a charmingly guilty smile, holding back a laugh.

Joel cocks a brow, pretending to look at you judgmentally. "Lyin’ is a sin, y’know." He huffs, a smile creeping on his lips.

“I’ve been good, just a lotta temptations s’all..” You murmur softly, your body naturally drifting closer to Joel by swaying on your feet.

The tension in the room is palpable.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head the tiniest bit to the side, his voice dropping what seemed like several octaves.

In fear of your voice cracking when giving a verbal response, you opt for a nod of your head, but then shrug just to tease him.

He glares at you but then scoffs, shaking his head.

"When'd you become such a little shit-stirrer, huh?" He chides, reaching over to ruffle the top of your hair.

You laugh before pushing his hand away, your fingers lingering on his wrist for longer than it needed to.

His skin is warm, he's almost hot to the touch. You're having a very hard time tearing your eyes away from his face.

All the sudden, your father calls you into the other room.

"Get in here! Max and Ruby wanna hear about your classes." Max and Ruby being your neighbors who had undoubtedly stopped by for the party.

You peer up at Joel, your eyes almost begging him to ask you to stay. But instead, he gestures with his head for you to listen to your dad.

"Go on now," He husks out, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Reluctantly you leave him behind in the kitchen, your body still whirring with the adrenaline high you got from just talking to him.

***

It was nice seeing everyone that stopped by for the party. You hadn't realized how much you missed your people.

But Joel was making it hard to concentrate on conversation when you guys were playing eye-tag the entire night.

He really couldn't help himself. There was just something so magnetic about you now—it was impossible to tear his eyes away.

He watched you talk to some of your high school friends, then get up to fetch something from the kitchen.

He couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to your ass once you turned around, his cock twitching in his pants because of the way your dress taunts him with its length.

He clears his throat.

Fuck was he thinking.

This was you he was ogling for christ sake. His best friends daughter.

These thoughts were not allowed. He needed to shut this down.

But the night goes on anyway, people getting more drunk and rowdy with each passing second.

Especially your father, who was currently in a screaming match with his work buddy about the game. They're all crowded around the small box tv in the kitchen, intently watching the tiny screen.

You're watching them from afar, amused by your father and the absurdity of it all.

"Ah fuck, we're outta ice," your dad groans, lifting up the empty bowl in annoyance. "Alright, one of you sons of bitches needs'ta make an ice run, m'not missing this game."

Joel groans out, dragging his hand down his jaw. "We're obviously gonna win—the team's up 46. Make the damn run yourself." He berates your father, who in turn just shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand at Joel.

"Every time I don't watch the game to completion, we fuckin' lose. M'staying riiiight here."

"Fuckin' superstitious bastard." Joel groans from under his breath, picking up his truck keys from the counter. "You want some more beer while I'm out? Maybe my liver too? God knows you need a new one, goddamn alcoholic."

You're laughing at them in the corner, finding their banter extremely amusing.

Then, you suddenly realize this might be your chance to spend more alone time with Joel.

You lurch forward, quickly blocking his path. "Can I come with?"

He looks down at you, a barely noticeable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He's just about to reply to you before your drunk father cuts in.

"Ya, go with him, he can't carry the ice by himself or else his back’ll give out."

Joel turns his head to yell at your dad. "Shut your damn mouth," he barks, then turns back around to face you, placing his hand on your lower back. "'Course sweetheart, c'mon."

The drastic change in his voice when he talks to you versus your father makes your heart flutter.

He guides you outside to his truck, only dropping his arm from your back when he opens the passenger door for you.

Hopping inside, you settle yourself into the worn down bench seat. Your eyes follow him as he rounds the front of the vehicle, swinging open the driver side door and cranking the engine.

His old country music starts blaring from the speakers of the car, accompanied by the loud drum of his engine.

He’s quick to whip out of the driveway, steering with one muscular arm on the wheel.

You want to drool at the sight—you know your other lips most certainly are.

"So, you got a boyfriend up there at school?" He asks after clearing his throat.

He wants to subtly test the waters, whether he knows it now or not.

You smile, the thought of dating any guy besides Joel was laughable.

"Nope. They're all kinda gross."

"Gross? Yeah, well, most guys your age are." He mumbles, thinking back to his late teens, early twenties—Yikes.

"What about you? Got a woman yet?" You ask, following his line of questioning.

Joel scoffs, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “Does it look like I got a woman in my life?”

He looks down at himself for a second to get his point across, making you follow his gaze.

His wrinkly navy shirt had paint stains on it, his jeans were so old, they looked one wash away from disintegrating, and his beard needed a trim.

You try to stifle your giggle by turning your head away. “Yeah, guess not.”

Your mind starts wandering off, imagining what being Joel's woman would look like...having dinner together...sharing a bed...showering together...

God you wanted to be his girl so bad.

You hear yourself speaking before you even know what you’re saying. “Maybe I can help you—y'know, find a woman n’all.”

Joel casts you an assessing glance, cocking his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? N’how would you do that?”

He doesn’t even mean to sound sexy but the way he talks makes you wanna melt.

“Well, for starters, a haircut might do you some good.” You tease, scooting closer to him on the bench seat to fiddle with the overgrown hair by his neck.

The way your body is turned to face him gives Joel a clear view down the front of your dress, the skin of your breasts making his cock twitch.

“What’re you talkin’ about? My hair looks great.” Joel knows he’s lying, but he just wants to see you laugh.

Which you do. “Yea, maybe to a blind chick.”

“Oh, you got jokes, huh?” Joel chides, using his free hand to come up and playfully tug at your hair.

You erupt in giggles, swatting his hand away while simultaneously trying to tug his hair back.

Eventually, you two stop messing with each other, but you reiterate that you're serious.

"I mean it—it’d be super fun giving you a make-over."

Joel pulls into the gas station and shifts his truck into park.

"You've lost your damn mind if you think I'm gonna let you get anywhere near my head with clippers."

You roll your eyes and giggle, following him out of the vehicle.

"C'monnn, it'll be fun!" You squeal, trailing behind him as he walks into the store, the bell chiming as you both enter.

He pretends to ignore you, walking along the isles to the freezer section.

"I'll be super careful," You muse, snagging a bag of skittles from off one of the shelves before he can notice.

“I promise I won’t fuck up your cut.” You joke, laughing at yourself.

“Hey—watch it.” Joel warns when hearing your profanity, snapping back to look at you, only half-joking.

You roll your eyes—it's ironic coming from him who cusses like a sailor. You brush past him as he opens the freezer, letting your back lean against one of the glass doors, facing him.

"You're not my daddy, y'know. Can't tell me what to do." You purr, a shit-eating grin beginning to form on your perfect face.

Joel feels his blood pressure spike.

You're making this impossible for him and you know it.

His body moves for him before he can stop himself.

After he grabs two ice bags, he closes the freezer and subsequently steps closer to you, popping your personal space bubble.

"You're right. M'not your daddy." He husks, looking down at you and your parted lips. Your chests are centimeters away from each other, and you find yourself holding your breath. “Consider yourself lucky.”

The way he’s looking down at you like prey yet speaking so nonchalantly has your brain spinning. There was definitely an underlying threat in his words.

Before you can respond, he’s turned around and walking up to the register, throwing down a 10 dollar bill and telling the cashier to keep the change.

Science can’t explain the drastic acceleration your heart rate just experienced—but you can.

Joel fucking Miller.

He had to be insinuating something, right?

Your face is hot and so is the rest of your body, stumbling to catch up with him as he walks out the store.

He lugs the ice into his trunk like nothing happened, the tension in his muscles catching your eyes.

Yet, he still comes around to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

Now was your chance to get him back.

You lift yourself up in the truck, purposefully climbing into the bench seat in a way that gave Joel a clear view of your ass—as well as your thong that wasn't really covering much.

His hand clamps down so hard on the car handle that it nearly crumbles under his grip.

You hear him clear his throat before the door slams shut next to you, making you jump a bit.

When he passes in the front windshield, he's shaking his head and dragging a hand down his scruffy jaw. You can't help but giggle at his exasperated expression.

His takes longer to get into the car and start things up this time, trying real hard not to meet your instense gaze.

When he refuses to make eye contact, you huff out a breath and rip open your skittles bag.

This catches Joel's attention.

"You pay for that?"

"...sure." You murmur unconvincingly with a shrug, trying not to smile. "Want some?"

He watches as you pop a few in your mouth, holding out the bag for him.

Begrungingly, he grumbles out a 'yeah' and holds out his palm.

***

The party had fizzled out when you guys returned. There were a few stranglers sitting around and chatting, but for the most part, things seemed to be dying down.

So much for the ice.

Your dad and his friends had migrated to the living room and once Joel put the bags away, he joined them.

He sat on the couch with a grunt, his legs immediately settling into the manspreading position.

You tried not to drool but your mouth was definitely salivating. To avoid moaning just at the sight of him, you head upstairs, the old wood boards creaking beneath your feet.

You don't see it, but Joel's got his eyes on you, following you with his gaze till you're out of sight.

He feels guilty thinking about how much he wants to fuck you when he's literally sitting right next to your father, but he can't help himself.

It's a while before you come back down, when you do, theres a razor in one hand, clippers in the other.

"No." Joel instantly says, shaking his head.

"Yes." You squeal, beaming down at him.

"Awh, go on Joel, you been needin' a clean up." Your dad chimes in, smacking his shoulder. His other buddies encourage it until he has no choice than to give in just so everyone would shut up.

"Fine—fine. Y'all gon' get yours, thats for damn sure." Joel grumbles, stomping up the stairs.

You're laughing all the way up, bubbling with excitement.

"Come down and give us the reveal when you're done!" Your dad screams to which you giggle.

You basically shove Joel into your bathroom, pulling in a stool for him to sit on.

"You better know what yer doin'." He grunts, sitting down on the stool and looking at you with weary eyes.

"Anything I do to you would look better than what you have now."

Joel promptly stands back up when hearing your words, trying to walk away, but you grab onto his arm. "I'm kidding, I’m kidding! I promise I'll do a good job."

You press on his shoulders to sit him down again, your throat running dry when you see the way he’s glaring up at you.

He’s not actually angry—just a bit peeved that he doesn’t have enough self control to stop thinking about fucking you against the bathroom sink.

You start working, none the wiser, bringing the electric razor to his jaw.

Your bodies are close, Joel can smell your delicious perfume and it makes him wanna eat you up.

You start to notice how sometimes his eyes will flicker to your chest, before abrupdtly looking away and clearing his throat.

Your boobs did look great in this dress, maybe you should give him a better view...

The devilish thought pops in your brain and you're acting it out before you know it.

You set the razor down and grab the clippers, stepping around to the front of his body. "May I?" You murmur, not even waiting for his answer before straddling his lap.

You sit on his thighs and Joel feels himself straighten like a board.

“Kid—what do you think yer doin’?” He immediately sputters out, his expression stern.

He’s trying so hard not to look down at where your dress had ridden up from straddling him. He can almost see your cunt, for christ sake.

“Nothin’.” You murmur, bringing your shaking hand up to trim the hair on his jaw. You curse at yourself for not even having the wits to keep calm, you just know your flushed fave is giving you away.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel reiterates, completely unbelieving as his eyes drag down your body slowly.

Then, everything shifts.

There’s something more assertive in Joel’s demeanor that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s there.

You feel his calloused hand on your thigh, your body erupting in goosebumps when he travels it up dangerously high. Using his other hand, he grips your wrist, pulling it down and away from his face.

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.” His voice is a low murmur.

You’re both locked in eye contact now, hearts beating in sync.

He hears your breath hitch and sees how your eyes are flashing between his gaze and lips. He knows what you’re after—he’s just not sure if he wants to give in yet.

You, on the other hand, are dying of anticipation. He’s not budging, so you’re left to drag your hips up his lap and press down on the bulge in his pants.

"Girl—" He growls out before his hands come up to stop your waist from moving any further. "You don't know what your doin'."

"Do I have to fucking spell it out for you, Joel?" You rush out, dropping the scissors and latching onto his shoulders. You're panting and your face is pink, a needy/irritated expression woven into your features.

He feels your nails digging into his shoulder blades and sees that desperate look in your eyes—he's done for.

"No, I won't make ya do that f'me, sweet heart." He murmurs before abruptly picking you up from under your thighs.

A squeak of surprise leaves your lips at his effortless display of strength. You swallow your nerves after he sets you down on the counter, lodging himself between your legs.

"But I am gon make you say it."

Is he teasing you?

No, his face looks too serious for him to be teasing.

Oh, maybe he just wants clear clarification.

Your heart swells at his consideration.

Sucking in a deep breath, "I want your dick in my vagina." You giggle out, knowing he was probably expecting sexier wording. Joel smirks, crashing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah? S'that what you want?"

You're nodding against him, smiling wide because you just admitted something that you never thought you would.

"N'have you done that before? Y'know, dick in vagina." He copies your candance, but you stop smiling.

Out of all the fucking questions, that was the one that you didn't want to be asked the most.

You had hoped if you came on strong and flirted like you had done it a million times, he would've just assumed you weren't a virgin.

But the bastard always had to be so careful.

You didn't want him to know because you figured it would turn him off—then all you'd become is his best friend’s daughter all over again.

You knew if you lied he would just sniff it out anyway, but you tried nonetheless.

"...Yea. Couple times."

You watch as Joel's face forms into a 'yea right' kind of expression before he sighs out.

"Why'a lyin' to me, kid?"

You groan, throwing your head back and hitting the mirror with the back of your skull.

"Thats why—I don't want you thinking I'm a kid anymore. M'not. I'm grown. I'm grown and I want..your dick in my vagina."

He scoffs, dragging a hand down in jaw in disbelief. "Lyin' ain’t a good way to show me your grown."

He was right. You hated that he was right.

Your face crumbles because you think you just ruined this whole thing. Yet, Joel's hands come up to cup your face, holding them there a moment before they drift down to rest on your neck.

"S'alright, you're alright. M'not mad at'cha." He reassures, making sure you're looking in his eyes before he continues. "M'flattered sweetheart, I really am but-"

"Please don't say some bullshit like you don't think you're the man for this job because trust me when I say this Joel, you're the only guy I've ever wanted to be with."

You gush out, your mouth a leaky faucet. But Joel still looks conflicted.

You figured now would be a good time to bring out the big guns.

"If you won't do it cus I'm a virgin, I'll just have sex with the first guy I see, how about that?"

Joel's eyes darken and his jaw clenches. Now you've just pissed him off. "Don't manipulate me like that." He says sternly, to which you immediately falter in your confidence.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean it." You shake your head at yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. Joel sighs, leaning back but still keeping himself between your legs.

"Look," you start up again, bringing your hand down to hold his muscular bicep. "I've wanted to do this with you for so long. I really want it to be with you. Even if it's just one time, that's okay. Just need you in some way—Joel."

Your voice tapers off into a whisper because his stare intimidates you.

He exhales through his nose before running a hand through his hair and fixing his back to stand up straighter.

"Alright." He huffs, his face looking like he just surrendered in war.

"Alright?" You repeat, hopes high.

"I'll do it," He removes himself from between your legs and slides his grip down to your thighs. "But not right now."

Your heart drops.

"Why not?" You whine like a kicked puppy.

He brings one hand up to pinch your cheek. "Cus your daddy's down stairs, m'not a fuckin' monster." He grumbles before letting go and starting to walk out, but you grab him.

"Fine, but can we at least.." You hop down off the counter and pull him back, kissing him abruptly.

It starts slowly at first, you're both scoping out the scene, but then you get eager.

A tongue slips into his mouth and he returns the favor, his hands finding themselfs back on your hips.

In no time, he has your back up against the wall while he devours your mouth like a man starved. And just as his hand starts sliding up your dress and he's about to go back on his word, a voice comes from downstairs.

"C'mon down Joel, we wanna see the new cut!"

You groan as Joel slips from you, walking back downstairs while wiping his jaw and adjusting the boner in his pants. *** Now it was a waiting game.

Everyone but your dad's friends had left the party; they were just sitting around, watching TV and drinking beers.

You and Joel can't stop making eye contact from the opposite ends of the room. It was like torture not being able to fuck him immediately.

You're quick to conjure up a plan, though.

"Hey dad," you start, twirling a loose thread from your dress around your finger.

"Ya?"

"Didn't they reopen Chambers, like, two weeks ago?" You ask, trying to keep your voice as inconspicuous as possible.

Chambers was the local bar that your dad and his buddies loved to go to. You were just trying to plant a seed.

"Mm, yea, I reckon they did." He sighs out, eyes glued to the TV.

"S'been awhile since we've been there." One of his friends chime in.

"We should go grab a few drinks—I've missed picking up broads from there.." Another friend says, to which your dad promptly hits his arm because he doesn't like that kind of talk when you're present.

Nevertheless, he casts you a questioning glance. "You gon' be alright if we go?"

You try so hard to mask your instant glee. "Oh yeah, I'll be fine! Y'all go n' have fun."

"Alright punkin," They all stand, gathering up their wallets and keys—everyone except Joel. "You comin'?" Your dad asks him.

You glare at him to make sure he understands what you're trying to do.

Joel inhales through his nose before sighing out with a smile. "M'gonna call it a night, boys."

Thank god.

They all grunt and groan in protest, but eventually everyone filters out of the house.

You stand in the door jam and watch as your dad and his buddies file into the car, Joel standing on the porch to wave them off. Words are exchanged between everyone, mostly cussing, as they make their depature.

You both watch as they leave the culdesac, even waiting until you couldn't hear the car engine in the distance before looking at Joel.

Your breath catches in your throat when he turns around to look at you, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sly work." He murmurs, walking forward and forcing you to walk back into the house.

You're not sure why you're so nervous all the sudden.

Because you were pretending to be bold and experienced before, you had no choice but to mask your nerves. Now, that Joel knows the truth, you feel...vulnerable. But in the best way possible.

He backs you into the house before closing the door behind him, his head hanging to look at the ground.

"I had to get you alone somehow." You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders.

It was the truth.

You hear Joel chuckle and watch as he brings his head up to look at you. He's assessing you.

A beat of silence washes over you both.

"You said you would, Joel." You try to say sternly, although your voice wavers because you're scared he might've changed his mind.

"I know what I said." He steps closer, your torso's centimeters apart.

The eye contact is heavy—it feels like an avail against you. But you love it—love him. You're holding back from jumping his bones right by the front door.

"Good." You practically whisper, slowly taking his large hand in yours. You wait until he interwines your fingers before turning around and guiding him up the stairs.

Every creak under his and your feet sounds deafening in the silence between you both.

His hand is sweating, but so is yours.

When you make it to your bedroom, you walk inside and sit on the edge of your bed, gazing up at him.

"How many women have you slept with?" You hear yourself blurt before you can stop yourself.

His lips tighten into a line before he sits down next to you. Your sides are touching, his hands are resting on his knees.

"A few." He grunts, turning to face you. "Lot of 'em forgettable. But this," he gestures between the two of you. "ain't no comin' back from this, you hear me?"

You nod, your hand slipping over his knee. You're trying to trail it higher up his thigh, but he stops you with his hand.

"Need to make sure you know that before we do this. Don't want you regrettin' it later-"

"I won't." You say curtly, only because you know with complete certaintly that there was no way you'd ever regret this.

Everything is still for a moment, the only sound in the room is the both of your breathing. He's staring at you so hard, just waiting for even a hint of hesitation.

But it never comes.

In one swift movement, Joel's lips are on yours, pushing you back into the mattress and settling on top of you.

It makes you dizzy how effortlessly he's making out with you now.

He slots himself between your thighs and you moan at the feeling.

It's embarrassing how little he had to do in order to get you off.

But it's Joel, for christsake—he could just stand there and you'd probably find a way to orgasm at least twice.

It feels like he's engulfing you entirely; his musuclar arms wrapped around you, tongue down your throat, chests pressed together—pure bliss.

Suddenly and devastatingly, he breaks away for just a moment. "Sit up." He husks, to which you immediately oblige.

He lifts your dress up and off, momentairly stunned by the sight of your bare breasts.

"Christ, you're unreal." He groans before latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, using his hand to grope the other one.

You're a mess of moans, but you manage to speak in between. "Take your clothes off too," you whine, pawing at his shirt.

Joel grumbles, taking his time. He strips his shirt off and your hands are quick to latch onto his belt, fumbling with the leather strap but eventually yanking it out of the loops.

His hands come out to steady yours. "Slow down, no rush." He purrs in his texan drawl, making you shiver.

You groan out in frustration, letting your back fall down against the bed again. "You gonna make me wait all summer?"

"If you keep bein' a brat, then maybe." Joel huffs, yanking you back by the legs so he can pull your thong off. He dangles the stringy piece of fabric by his finger, looking at it assessingly.

"Joel!" You squeal, embarrassed. He effortessly holds you down with one hand against your stomach, not letting you swat it away from him.

"This what you go 'round wearin'?" He teases, grinning sharply.

You shrug, all squrimy, prodding him with your legs. "Would it turn you on if I said I wore them for you?"

You almost don't notice when Joel stuffs your underwear into his back pocket because of how drawn you are to his eyes. He's looking at you like a man starved—you love it.

"You been plottin' on me, is that it?" His voice makes your wet hole clench around nothing. He's teasing, but you also feel like you've just been caught.

You definitely weren't as suave as you thought you were.

"Stop makin' fun of me. " You huff with a flustered face, narrowing your eyes at him.

Joel smirks, finally prying apart your legs and taking a good, long look at your dripping cunt. "Christ almightly..." He groans at the sight of you, his cock straining hard against his jeans. "Pretty lil thing."

Your back arches off the bed when you feel Joel's thumb brush against your folds, tantilizingly slow. "Nice n' wet, atta girl." He muses, spreading your lips apart with his fingers.

You wanted to make a joke about him inspecting you like some doctor, but the words died quickly on your tongue when you felt him stroke your clit.

"Joel," You moan, hips squirming impatiently. "Fuck, I need you,"

"You got me, babygirl," Joel murmurs before lowering his head and devouring your cunt completely.

His tongue laps at you with fever, primarily focusing on your aching clit. The sensation nearly makes you pass out, especially when he pushes a finger inside of your hole.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," You whine, fisting the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white.

Having someone eat you out and it being actually enjoyable is one thing, but having Joel Miller eat you out and it being amazing, was blowing your mind.

He didn't even take breathers.

Joel was consuming you like he didn't need air. Soon, you feel another finger stretch you open, then another, until Joel has three fingers smoothly pumping in and out of you.

It quickly becomes all too much for your little brain. "Hmph..fuck Joel m'gonna come," You whine, your hips staggering against his mouth.

He doesn't answer you, in fact, Joel just wraps his musclar arms tightly under your thighs, securing you in place. In this position, you were rendered completely immoveable.

He kept you right where he wanted you.

"Waitwait, shit, Joel," His tongue is relentless, drinking you up like he was dying of thirst in the desert. Tears are forming in the lining of your eyes, the stimulation overloading you.

"Fuck!" You cry, coming completely undone beneath him. Your entire body shakes with pleasure as you finish, thighs squeezing the sides of his head.

Joel laps you all the way through it, humming contentedly against your soaked cunt.

When your body goes limp against the bed, thats finally when Joel lifts his lips off you. His entire face down past his nose is drenched in your juices; the sight makes your stomach flutter.

"Holy fucking shit Joel," You whimper, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. "That was amazing."

Joel lands a couple soft warning pats against your cunt, making you flinch and squirm from overstimulation.

"You cuss like a sailor, y'know that?"

"S'hard not to when you're makin' me feel so good." You're mumbling, wiping at the tear streaks on your face with the back of your hand.

"Mm, I know," He hums in that caring tone, crawling on top of you and placing a few chaste kisses on your lips.

It doesn't take long for your libido to rise again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kissing him back.

You bring a hand down to palm at his boner, giggling into the kiss. He groans at the feeling, rutting his hips into your hand. "Fuck me now please," You say breathlessly into his ear, nipping and licking at his neck.

He scoffs at your enthusiasm.

Finally, Joel pulls his pants off, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

You're enamoured by the sight of it. Long in length, even bigger in girth. You practically start drooling.

"You got a starin' problem too." Joel grumbles, grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up so he can kiss you again.

You chuckle into his lips, breaking away for a moment to speak. "I can't help it. It's handsome..you're handsome." You muse, getting a fist around his cock, managing to stroke it a few times before Joel stops you.

You don't have time to think or argue before he turns you over onto your side, situating himself behind you.

He's spooning you, except his left arm is hooked around your chest and his right has your leg lifted up, allowing his cock to slip between your folds.

Once again, he's got you right where he wants you.

"Joel," You bring your hands up to hold onto his forearm, pushing your ass back into him. "Put it in." You all but demand, trying to desperately grind your cunt on him.

He tightens his grasp on your collarbone, pulling you tighter against his chest. "Keep your leg up baby," Joel mutters lowly in your ear, letting go of your leg to guide his cock to your entrance.

His fat tip prods against your willing hole, making you dizzy with need. He runs his fingers along your folds one last time, gathering up your slick and using it to lubricate his cock.

Your heart is beating a million miles per hour. The moment you had been dreaming of for so long was finally here.

Joel, taking your virginity—your prayers were answered.

Slowly, Joel starts inching his way inside, the stretch making you gasp.

It feels fine at first, just a dull ache, but then it hurts—bad.

You squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, trying to push through the pain. However, your body clenches down on the intrusive appendage, causing Joel to groan out.

It feels good for him, but he's been around the block a few times to know what's happening.

"You okay? I need'a stop?" He asks in that raspy voice of his, to which you immediately shake your head.

"Nonono, god no, don't stop. Just—just ram it in." You say foolishly, making Joel scoff.

"No, sweetheart, as much as I want to—bad idea." He brings his hand back down between your legs, rubbing a few slow circles into your clit. "Just relax and open up for me, thaaaats it," He encourages in that tone that lights fires in your core.

The perfect stimulation on the bundle of nerves made you forget all about the pain, letting your hole ease up a bit.

He takes the oppurtunity to keep breaching you deeper, peppering kisses to your neck and back in the process. His fingers stay glued to your clit, and before you know it, he's half way inside.

Your holding onto him so hard that your nails are leaving imprints on his forearm.

But you're so full of him and it's perfect. You can feel every twitch, every notch, every vein; or maybe you're just convincing yourself you can. Either way, mewls and moans are slipping from your lips and feeding Joel's growing ego.

"You feelin' good sweetheart?" He rasps in your ear, thrusting back and forth till he reaches that half way mark. You nod frantically, craning your neck to face him, desperate for a kiss.

He satisfies your wishes, kissing you slowly and passionately, like everything you've ever wanted.

His dick in you, his tongue down your throat, his arms pinning you to him. Fuck.

But you still want more.

In a shocking move, you slam your hips back against him, burying him all the way inside.

Moans fill your little bedroom, both his and yours, and for a moment, a flash of regret hits you like a truck.

He's big, and it fucking hurts.

But once the initial pain subsides, it’s like ecstasy.

"Fuck—girl, what'd ya do that for?" Joel hisses, tensing up because he's trying not to come fast.

"Couldn't wait," you pant, tears spilling out the corners of your eyes. "Please move." You're pleading because being stationary is somehow even more painful. You squirm in Joel's strong grasp, trying to stop the ache between your legs.

He's no match for you.

In a gentle but swift motion, Joel situates himself on top of you, closing your thighs together and putting them on one side of his body—all while still inside of you.

He cages you in with his big strong arms, looking down at your needy expression as he gradually starts rocking his hips into you. You're twisting your torso to remain looking at him, clawing at his biceps with your nails.

"This how you like it?" He huffs out, the sweat evident on his brow. "Deep n' slow?"

You want to respond to him, but it's hard to because every other sound you make is a moan.

He's so deep and never fails to hit the one spot that just makes you melt.

Opting for a non-verbal response, you nod with fever, gyrating your hips to meet his thrusts.

He chuckles, the sound alone makes you wanna come.

His name slips from your lips like a prayer—Joel finds it so cute because when he hits deep, your voice raises in pitch.

But he's no better, he'd been groaning in your ear since the start of it. He really cant help it, your cunt is like a silky, wet vice molded perfectly for his cock.

Joel lifts one of your legs up to his chest, securing his muscular arm around your thigh to keep it there. He continues he's deep thrusts, only this time picking up rhythm. He also brings his other hand down to lazily rub circles in your clit.

Christ.

Your head lolls back and your eyes roll into the back of your head. The stimulation was insanely perfect and all too much at the same time.

Your body wracks with jolts and spasms—your body trying to cope with everything it's feeling. Joel takes notice, a proud and lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"M'gonna cum," You whine, your body writhing against him with each thrust.

Your pussy is clenching down on him with each piston of his hips, Joel is not far behind you.

He rubs your clit in a way that makes you come undone, your back arching up off the bed and your toes curling from pleasure.

At the same time, Joel picks up his pace, only to pull his cock from inside you and pump it a few times before unloading his seed onto your naked torso.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy breathing coming from the both of you. Joel's staring down at your pussy, entraced with the way your hole is constricting around nothing.

Then, he looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your chest is heaving up and down. He's admiring you and all your fucked-out glory.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping off the tear stains with his thumb. "You alright?" He husks out, looking down at you assessingly.

"M'perfect." You coo, slowly opening your eyes and leaning up to kiss him. Joel returns it, loving the way your mouth opens so readily for him.

He'd have to try it out with his dick next time.

"Can we go again?" You murmur into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

Joel scoffs because he thinks you're kidding. You're not. When he realizes this, he shakes his head in disbelief, pushing you down onto the bed by your shoulders.

"Don't worry, we got all summer."

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[f1girliefics]

From Monaco, With Love

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: A solo vacation to Monaco turns into something unexpected when you meet Lando Norris at a bar.

The bar in Monaco was exactly what you needed, dimly lit, atmospheric, the kind of place where you could sit back with a drink and simply exist. 

A vacation for yourself, a way to celebrate how far you’ve come. 

No obligations, no expectations. Just you, the warm Mediterranean air, and the luxury surrounding you.

But then you saw him.

Lando Norris sat across the bar, effortlessly confident, dressed in a way that told you he knew exactly how good he looked. 

Sharp suit, slightly loosened tie, hair styled with just the right amount of carelessness. 

It was impossible not to notice him.

You weren’t here for this. 

You weren’t supposed to entertain any romantic ideas, but as he caught your gaze and started approaching you, you thought, why not? 

A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

“Drinking alone?” His voice was smooth, carrying something playful as he settled into the seat beside you.

“For now,” you replied, sipping your cocktail. “But something tells me that’s about to change.”

Lando grinned, a boyish charm to his smirk. “Smart and beautiful. I like that.”

That was the beginning of something you never expected.

---

The next few days felt like a dream.

Lando took you on long drives through winding roads overlooking the ocean, you felt the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking. 

He showed you his yacht, laughing as you teased him about the sheer extravagance of it all, only to pull you onto the deck and wrap an arm around your waist as if you belonged there.

“You live like this all the time?” you asked, watching the sunset.

He shrugged. “It’s better with company.”

Shopping in Monaco was another adventure, Lando insisted on picking out things for you, draping luxurious fabrics over your shoulders, and holding up pairs of sunglasses to your face with a critical expression.

“You’re going to have to carry all of this,” you warned, laughing as he handed another bag to an already overwhelmed store assistant.

“I don’t mind,” he said, with a casual shrug. “If it means I get to see you wear all of it. And take it off of you later.”

Each moment with him was effortless, a beautiful distraction from the reality waiting for you back home. 

But reality couldn’t be ignored forever.

---

“It was fun,” you admitted as you stood by the docks on your final evening, the night breeze warm against your skin. “Spending the last few days with you.”

Lando’s brow furrowed slightly. “Last few days?”

You gave him a small smile, trying not to let your own emotions get the best of you. “I don’t live here, Lando. I was just… visiting.”

“You’re leaving?” his tone was a bit panicked. 

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

He was quiet for a moment, jaw tightening slightly. “Where’s home?”

You hesitated, but eventually gave him the name of your city. 

He didn’t say anything else. He just nodded, giving you one last long look before pulling you into a kiss that felt like goodbye.

---

You didn’t expect to see him again.

You certainly didn’t expect him to show up at your doorstep days later, standing there with an enormous bouquet of flowers and that same determined look on his face.

“You can’t just show up here,” you breathed, completely taken aback. "How did you even find where I live?!"

“I can show up,” he countered. “And I found you my own way.”

“Lando-”

“I don’t care if we come from different worlds,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “I don’t care about any of that. I just know that I don’t want what we had in Monaco to be the end of us.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re really here.”

He smirked. “Took a flight and everything.”

You shook your head, letting out a small laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I know what I want. And I want you.”

You allowed him into your home, as he kissed you. 

There were still doubts, still questions, but in that moment, as you looked into his eyes, you realised none of them mattered.

Because he was here. And so were you.

And that was enough.

[zarla-s]

i need to know more about your feelings of tf2 comic 7 because youre the heavymedic expert

I liked it! Satisfying happy conclusion for (almost) everyone, especially since I was a little worried they were going to kill everyone off, haha. Not a lot of Heavymedic stuff in there but I wasn't expecting much, and really it was about the Administrator and her story, so it makes sense the mercs wouldn't really take top billing for it.

There were a few cute things though! I know "standing next to each other" is like the most graspingest of straws but you know what, it made me smile each time so I don't care.

The big thing of course being Heavy grabbing his boob, which to me reads like him stopping Medic from trying to help the Admin, which I think is sweet in his own way. Medic has his healing instincts!

Medic also puts his hand on his back as they walk away, which I also think is sweet. It looks like he's comforting him.

I really loved the ending sequence where everyone gets together for that dinner party. It's just such a great bookend to how the comics started - initially when their team disbanded, everyone split off and did their own thing. Some of them didn't even keep track of where the others were! A few kept in contact, but mostly all of them just left the others and they didn't seem particularly concerned or interested in each other.

Compare that to them at the end of the comic! Seven years after everything that happened, they're all meeting up together for dinner! Voluntarily! They're introducing their families to each other! They don't have any contracts or jobs forcing them to spend time together. They WANT to have dinner together. SPY TAKES OFF HIS MASK AND IS FINE WITH IT! I just love that so much. They care about and trust each other after everything that's happened, all the years that have gone by. Team as family was CANON AFTER ALL

I think this whole sequence also sheds a nice light on Medic! Medic's been perceived as probably the most uncaring of the group, given that he did sign up with another team for the money and said he wouldn't mind fighting them again (although not too soon after that he ended up saving all their lives against direct orders). A lot of people interpreted that as him not really caring about the others or anything at all, but that's not the case!

Medic kept and raised his baboon baby! He didn't abandon it or use it for parts or anything, he kept and raised it for seven years! Responsibility!

Not only that, Medic hasn't abandoned his friends, signed up with a new team, forgotten them or tossed them aside. He's with them at the dinner! He comes with his baboon baby! He wants to be with them too! He cares about them, genuinely. And of course, the final shot is with him by Heavy's side, both of them just so happy to be there with everyone else.

Love that Medic's smile still looks unhinged too lol. Would I have loved Heavy holding onto Medic's waist? The two of them wearing matching rings? Of course! But them so close to each other and an obvious irrefutable confirmation that Medic loves and cares about his team and wants to be with them is really lovely. Makes me feel fuzzy, haha.

There's speculation too that Medic came with Heavy's family as that person in the back there but who can say for sure. |D

[thetadispatcher]

Vincent looked up at him and gave him a small smile, showing he appreciated the gesture. He knew it probably didn't mean that much to other people, but to him it meant a lot.

He liked knowing he had other people outside of those who called him family that cared, and didn't mind showing it to help him understand situations or just feel better about them.

The AP700 rested his head back against the other android, deciding he'd completely ignore Dan and Rook to focus on what Bishop was doing.

Nines gave him a calculating look, he had experience with people who would use anything to try to upset him. His human partner did it almost constantly to him, so he could easily recognize when someone else was attempting to do the same.

The only thing he needed any time to figure out was why, it seemed like everyone always had a different reason for why they were trying to get a reaction out of him. Gavin's was just because he liked to be an annoyance, and the fact he couldn't get Nines to react upset him.

Not that he cared, as he enjoyed watching the detective flush with anger whenever Nines didn't give him the reaction he was looking for. Not that he would show the human that he found his small shows of anger endearing.

"I am not that rebellious, no more then Connor is." He wouldn't call Sixty rebellious as the RK800 seemed to be down to do just about anything, he was more of an accidental troublemaker.

"And it's not like the military could do anything about it now if they did find out." Androids had rights now, and they couldn't do anything about the military androids Cyberlife failed to destroy as they were considered people. Also it would likely cause a lot of issues that wouldn't be worth the time and money to deal with.

John didn't see them doing anything about it ever, the androids didn't know anything he would consider damaging if it were to get out. And he never saw service, so he never learned any truly damaging information that the military would be concerned about.

"He might be, considering the fact he was already deviant when he was deactivated as we didn't have to convert him." Dan wasn't sure what to make of that possibility, but Kelvin was the oldest recorded deviant they knew of so far.

He just wasn't about to share that information as he felt the last thing androids needed was to know their god might be real, some might be a little disappointed to find out what he was like.

"I never said he was dumb, he can do some very complicated tasks quite well. Sure he does have his moments where he does something that one would call dumb, but he can hardly be held accountable for it considering his condition." Kelvin was surprisingly good at things one wouldn't expect someone in his condition to excel at, even if he did have times where he acted more childlike then a normal android.

"We are trying to teach him sign language and how to write, but it's a slow process as he sometimes will need to be retaught things he already learned. But if you think she can talk to him, you're welcome to try. It would be nice to better understand Kelvin just in case there is some mental trauma we don't know about. I would hate to learn about it by accidentally upsetting him and still not fully understand the reaction, it would make helping him calm down hard." Even a little more information would be useful, as it might give them a hint on where to look for more.

"Yes, that is correct. He was a gift to the studio that they really didn't care enough to keep, they deposed of him the first chance they got." Brent didn't seem bothered by the studio's blatant disregard for him, in fact he seemed to have expected the treatment and felt nothing about. The JB300 was one of the androids that showed no mental affects from being thrown away, and he even seemed thankful it happened.

"We have a few other ones, ones that you would recognize as a lot of people from your generation are the ones who were ordering these custom units." He could see why someone would want an android of their favorite characters, but he could also understand why they'd be thrown away. They only lasted as long as their novelty or until they needed an expensive repair thanks to being custom.

"Only one other one is present on the property currently, if you'd like I can introduce you to him." Dan knew he would be less bothered by being recognized as a fictional character, Brent just seemed to hate it as he wanted to be his own person and not Data. But the JB300 was okay with it if the person respected the fact he had picked a new name and didn't constantly remind him of his appearance.

The android looked over once again, waiting for Rook to snap back at him. When it was clear she intended to leave him alone he glanced back to Vincent. If his communication skills were poor, he felt he was about to set a new low, but still reached to give his friend a gentle pat in reassurance. Everything was fine, they were just having a feisty mutant over for a bit.

Bishop smirked. That gave him something to work with.

"Yes, that is expected behavior from the rebellious youngest brother."

Even the most collected deviant had to deal with their own emotions and while he couldn't say for sure how prominent Nines' ego was, Bishop would still poke at him until he got a reaction.

It was entertaining enough to him, in any case. He had no reason to stop.

"That's typical of private contractors." he mused, "So you were saved entirely by greed alone. I suppose there is some irony in that."

Much like the fact that androids were simply being tossed in a landfill instead of being recycled. It seemed Cyberlife's entire existence was simply tainted by incompetence.

Rook watched the way Dan's skin regenerated, glad to see no damage was done. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of having hurt the most important guy in the house, especially when she had done nothing but ask questions.

"Who knows, maybe he's patient zero." She shrugged, "Maybe he's like Sixty and likes the way he is. It's never good to assume somebody who's very energetic and content with what they have is dumb. I have a friend who is just as bouncy as Kelvin and she's smarter and wiser than most people."

It didn't look like Kelvin was causing real trouble on purpose. He just moved quietly and that made it easy to forget he was even there doing his own thing.

"So that's why you've got Commander Data running about. Maybe you could ask Willow to talk to Kelvin. He can't talk to you, but she can probably translate for him."

[kianamaiart]

Hello ! I'm currently in art school with the goal of becoming a storyboard artist, and while I still have a few years before I graduate, I'm trying to plan out for my future a little – I was wondering if your job is entirely remote or if you have employers who prefer you to be present ? Also how quickly were you able to get in the industry, did it take you several years before being able to support yourself as a freelancer ? I hope this is okay to ask. Thank you for being an inspiration !

It was fully in person pre-2020 and since about 2022 we’ve been required to come in at least sometimes. I think in 2023 Disney wanted us to come in 3 times a week. So we’re technically hybrid now but I go in everyday if I can! There’s a lot of productions that are fully remote just so studios can save money on office space. It’s hard to say if employers care where you are at this point (I know our production does at least a little bit these days) but working remotely isn’t out of the question. Also moving to LA for a very unstable industry is scary so it’s understandable why people wouldn’t want to. I will mention though that if you get a union gig TAG only covers LA residents (?) so I’d be weary of that if you’re wanting insurance and protections.

I’ve talked about it a lot before but I got lucky in that I was hired by disney for my storyboarding position right after my junior year at CCA. They had just found me on twitter and I did their sb test then dropped out of school after they hired me. Prior to that I’d done some freelance character design for a video game and a comic book pitch during my sophomore/junior year. I didn’t have any tva experience outside of doing a test for We Bare Bears earlier that year.

I put a lot of my eggs in the “really get your social media presence up and show what you can do” basket and it luckily worked out for me.

Everyone’s story is vastly different though! I came in at a time where social media and the industry was popping so I won’t deny there was a lot of lucky timing on my end.

[poorrichardjr]

Ok, I can agree with both people here to some degree, though I think a few things should be brought up.

First, Gore actually won the popular vote in Florida. The Supreme Court stopped the recount that proved that Gore actually won, by a very slim margin. Second, instead of blaming Nader, as most mainstream democrats do, why don't they blame Jeb Bush for purging hundreds of thousands of people from the rolls who were alive and able to vote simply because their names corresponded to names of criminals in other states. This is still done btw every single election in republican run states.

Second, I don't blame all of the voters in the last election, republican or democrat. I don't blame the people who have no time to do the research because they work 60+ hours a week, have families to take care of and spend time with, or those who gladly lapped up the propaganda about Biden and Trump.

There is a caveat to that thought though. Being an informed voter is the responsibility of the people voting. Are you as a voter doing anything at all to learn about the candidates? Are you only getting your information from Fox and the like or RT or Sputnik or whatever? If so, you are slurping up that good ole propaganda and learning virtually nothing. Don't get me wrong, a lot of media outlets have some form of propaganda or slant to their news, but in aggregate, it isn't hard to determine some basic facts about a candidate even with all the partisan BS.

Believe it or not but Trump was not a normal republican president last time. He was crass, cruel, and tried numerous times to do things that his staffers said and warned him were illegal. He was impeached twice for doing things that no other president had done, especially inspiring the coup on January 6th. He also nearly led us into war with North Korea and Iran. We were on the brink of war with North Korea, and suddenly things changed when Russia spoke with both Trump and Un. What did they say that changed the heat? They probably told Trump that Kim wasn't really that bad and that he should be the bigger man and do some outreach, and they told Kim that all you had to do to get anything from Trump was flatter him, because he is an absolute moron.

Biden wasn't a great president, but honestly he really only did two terrible things. He appointed Merrick Garland to oversee the DOJ, and though he was a great prosecutor, he moved far too slowly and initially only focused on the foot soldiers of the insurrection. He never even went after all the congress people who were also deeply involved. Other than that, Biden did what he has always done his entire career and that is to support Israel. He would not use his presidential influence to curb what was happening in Israel, and that turned a lot of good people away from him.

Kamala wasn't really in the running long enough to get a good footing, and she didn't try to differentiate herself from Biden that much, simply because much of what Biden was doing worked. Jobs were up, the economy got much better than the rest of the world, and actual wages were going up for the first time in nearly thirty years.

In the end if you listened to Trump for a single hour and Kamala for a single hour their demeanor, ideas, and temperament should have been enough to get people to do the right thing, but it wasn't. The blatant racism and cruelty espoused by Trump wasn't enough. The knowledge that Trump would support anything Israel wanted in Gaza wasn't enough. The constant lying and whining about 2020 wasn't enough. In the end, if you couldn't guess that some of what is happening now and what could be happening soon was on the table, then you were a fucking idiot or so deeply into a partisan whole that you really didn't care.

Americans failed in their responsibility, and now they will be paying the price for their inability to take this seriously.

Just to be a clear, I am not a democrat, and yet I have voted for them in the last three elections because only a god damn moron couldn't see what Trump is. I hated Hilary because she was untrustworthy, despite my same opinion that she was probably the most qualified candidate for that position in decades. I hated Biden because he really is part of the reason we have many of the problems we have today, and he has been out of touch with a lot of America for years. I had no problems with Kamala, except that she was embracing the right-wingers who gave us Iraq and the quagmire that was Afghanistan and didn't do enough to try and get democrats to vote for her. You can criticize Trump all day, but republicans don't care and are going to vote for him anyway. She needed to rebuild the coalition that was disintegrating because of Gaza and the DOJ's inaction.

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna Part 2

a/n: thank you so much for the support on the last uncle sukuna post! i apologize if this is short.

-------------------------

Uncle!Sukuna who doesn't return to your doorstep until around 11 am. This time when you open the door, you are in actual clothes, awake and aware. He sees the curiosity in your eyes as soon as he meets your gaze.

Uncle!Sukuna who, you notice, is wearing the exact same clothes you had seen him in as he dropped off Yuji. You could see the tiredness in the mans eyes, and couldn't help but feel a bit bad he had to handle a work emergency so late. You couldn't help but wonder what it is that he did.

Uncle!Sukuna who still doesn't introduce himself as he asks where his nephew is. You had learned from Yuji, before he had passed out on you couch, that he called him "Uncle Kuna", but as far as you knew, that could've been a nickname.

Uncle!Sukuna who follows you into your house when you tell him that Yuji is playing with your son in the back yard.

You lead him through your home, with him silently taking in the space. It was so...different to his own. Your home looked like it was a space for a parent and a kid, while his looked bland and almost empty. When he had moved into the house for Yuji, he hadn't taken the time to really decorate. The only kid stuff in the house was in Yuji's room, and most of his own things were in his room or boxed up in the garage. So he couldn't help but compare your house to his own, pinpointing all the differences that really make your place a home.

Uncle!Sukuna who raises his brow when he sees Yuji playing around with a kid only a few years older. They were play-fighting, doing some kind of martial arts moves. He was still surprised by Yuji's never fading energy, seeing how he could barely stay still for longer than a minute. He seemed to amuse the older kid though, and you.

Uncle!Sukuna who clears his throat when he realizes you two were just standing there watching the two boys. He looks at you, his usual blank expression in place.

"Thanks." Is all he says. Something about his voice gives you goosebumps, but you ignore that feeling and give him a friendly smile. He would think someone who was woken up so rudely at 2 am would be a little angry, especially when a kid is pushed onto them. But he was glad you weren't complaining. And he really liked your smile.

"Of course. Yuji is sweet, I'm happy I could help. I have to admit, though, this is certainly an interesting way to be introduced to my new neighbors." You tried to joked. You felt a little awkward when his expression didn't change nor did he respond. So, looking back to the two boys, you tried to think of something to say.

Uncle!Sukuna who stares at you for a moment. Something about you makes his chest feel tight, and his mind a little fuzzy. Sure, you're beautiful, but this wasn't simple physical attraction. He couldn't understand what was happening to him and that made him frustrated, annoyed. So he just breaths a breath out of his nose, looking at his young nephew.

Uncle!Sukuna who watches as Yuji's head snaps to look at him as soon as Sukuna calls his name. A grin of excitement, at a level that still surprised Sukuna, took over the boys face. He quickly leaves his new friend, running to stand at his uncles leg and look up at the giant man.

Uncle!Sukuna who doesn't let his newborn affection for his nephew show on his face, simply telling Yuji to say goodbye to you and your son. He pretends to not care when a slight look of disappointment takes over Yuji's face, due to having to leave his new friends.

You notice the look, and crouch to give Yuji a warm smile.

"We live right across the street, Yuji, so you and your Uncle Kuna can stop by anytime." You say, grinning and standing when his excitement returns.

Uncle!Sukuna who realizes then that he never actually introduced himself, and neither did you. He grunts, looking to you again.

"Sukuna." he introduces finally. Apparently he's not much of a talker.

"Hi, Sukuna. I'm y/n." You continued your attempts to be nice, friendly. Clearly he wasn't a conversationalist, and you couldn't read him at all, but that didn't mean you had to mirror his brooding, reserved demeanor.

Uncle!Sukuna who simply nods, grabbing Yuji by the back of his shirt to tug him away, his silent way of saying they were leaving.

Before they can get away though, you turn to look at your son still standing in the yard, observing as usual.

"Oh, wait. Choso, come say goodbye to Yuji and his uncle."

-------

not proofread

I hope you guys enjoy how i incorporated Choso! For my ideas with this lil story, I think this dynamic will be fun to write and work with :) In my au, Yuji is 6 and Choso is about 8.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon taking care of a child with medical issues when her bio dad is a deadbeat (✿◡‿◡)

I can just imagine Simon would be so good with a little girl who has type 1 diabetes. (There's a little bit of explaining of different medical terms so you're not left hanging) BUT TRUST ME HE WOULD BE SO GOOD FOR THE BOTH OF YOU

You had gotten pregnant with your little girl, Annabeth (Beth for short), a year after being married to Ethan. He seemed ready to be a dad, but once he found out Beth has diabetes, he cares for her less and less. He went to classes with you two, learned how to calculate her bolus (amount of insulin needed at meals) and basal (baseline amount of insulin for the day), but never did them properly. She'd end up with high blood sugars all day, sometimes getting ketones (breakdown of muscle in an attempt to breakdown sugar when there's no insulin) because he wouldn't give her the right amount of insulin. She'd puke and cry from how bad she felt, and he still wouldn't take care of her properly.

It would cause you to have to come home in the middle of work to give her the insulin he wouldn't, or if she got ketones, take her to the ER. You'd constantly get into arguments that would end with him going to the pub, and you crying. He wouldn't change, no matter how many times you explained that she could die from improper inulin dosage.

Other times, he'd give her too much, and her blood sugar would drop so low she could barely drink her juice. He'd call you, saying she's barely able to move, she's sweaty and the color from her face is drained, that she's crying, and he doesn't fucking know what to do.

The divorce ended with you having full custody, you allowing small visitations that are supervised. You can't trust he will take care of her how she needs.

NOW

When you start dating Simon, you explain to him why you got divorced, and how important your baby's health is. Even more so that she's so fragile. He assures you he's nothing like your ex-husband and would go strictly by your instruction if you allow him to be a part of her life.

The first few times he was around Beth, he payed close attention to how you took care of her. One time, at the park, Beth played a bit too hard, and her blood sugar dropped. You had 2 juices with you, but she went through those so fast. Once her blood sugar went back up, she played too hard again. Without telling you, he had already brought a few juices in his car. That was the first time he took care of her.

The second time was then you had asked him to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy. He waited for her insulin, but they only gave one vial. He explained to them that she uses two a month and that she needs the other one. They said that was all that was ready, so he waited 2 hours until the other one was ready.

What made up your mind was when you were called into work under an emergency, and you had no one to take care of Beth. You hadn't slept well the night before so when Simon offered to watch her, you hadn't thought to explain her dosage formula to him. It wasn't until the end of your shift that you realized and sped home (definitely going over the speed limit). Rushing through the door, you were greeted with the sight of Beth laying on Simon's chest, sound asleep. How was she not sick from no insulin?

"You told me her basal, so I gave her tha'"

oh

"What about the food she ate? Did she eat? What insulin did you give her?" You asked, extremely confused.

"I looked up no carb to low carb foods so I wouldn't have to worry about tha'. She had a cheese stick with some almonds and a lil bit of mashed blueberries with cinnamon mixed in, wasn't very hungry though so she didn't really finish it" he says softly, petting her hair, "told you I'd take care of her, mama"

oh

He really wasn't like her dad.

So, it wasn't really unreasonable when after she was put to bed, you pushed him to your bedroom and took care of him too.

(All of the information in this is coming from me, a type 1 diabetic. Everyone's diabetes is a little different, so this is based off of how mine affects me)

[selfloverrrrrr]

hey bae , this is my first time making a req 😭🙏🏻 , so i was thinking about where y/n is a prisoner sent to an all male prison and geto/gojo is the chief security guard who works there. he is very attracted to y/n and at night he goes non con y/n

i love your fanfic btw ❤️

Prisoner~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, Noncon, revenge, prisoner reader, chief secretary guard Gojo, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

This shitty people can't even investigate a case properly. First they put me in for the time crime I never did and now they're moving me to another jail?! The iron gates of Blackwood Prison creaked shut behind me, I found myself enveloped in a world dominated by rough faces and even rougher hands. I was the only woman among hundreds of convicts, a fact that made me stand out like a sore thumb.

The first few days were a blur of harsh fluorescent lights, cold meals, and the constant hum of male voices echoing through the concrete hallways. I kept my head down, learning the routines quickly - lights out at 10 PM sharp, wake-up call at 6 AM.

One evening, during dinner in the massive cafeteria, I felt eyes burning into my back. I turned slightly to see one of the guards standing against the wall. His name tag said 'Gojo'. He was tall, muscular, with an aura that demanded attention. His blue eyes seemed to follow my every movement.

As the days wore on, I started noticing Gojo everywhere. He seemed assigned to my wing more frequently than the other guards. Each time our paths crossed, his gaze lingered, a flicker of something - admiration? - passing through his steely expression before he quickly looked away.

One crisp autumn night, as the prison settled into uneasy quiet, I lay on my narrow bunk, straining to hear the faint scrape of metal against metal. Suddenly, my cell door clicked open. Gojo stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, his muscular frame filling the doorway.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. His boots echoed on the cold floor as he approached my bunk. He didn't say a word, just reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him.

"what are you doing?! why are you even here?!" I asked being shocked. Gojo smirked. His grip tightened. "Easy," he said softly, his voice low and urgent. "Thought you might need...company. It's tough being the only woman here"

"what do you mean?" I asked."You know exactly what I mean," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His hand moved to my waist possessively. "Being surrounded by all these hungry eyes...you must be tired of the constant stares, the unwanted attention." He paused, his thumb tracing circles on my hipbone. "I could..."

"I could make them all disappear," Gojo murmured, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You'd be mine, and only mine. No one else would dare to look at you, let alone touch you." He desperately whispered in my ear.

"y-you should go" I said. "Should I?" Gojo chuckled. And I didn't notice when his fingers start to unbuckle my belt. "You really want me to leave you here all alone, with those little shits inmate dreaming about getting their hands on you?" He paused, his hands pausing at the button of my pants.

"w-what are you doing w-wai-" I finally realised but Gojo cut me off with a firm kiss, his lips crashing against mine. He pinned me against the bunk, his hands roaming over my body as he effortlessly pushed my pants down. I was about to protest when "Shh," he murmured against my lips. "Just let me take care of you tonight."

"N-No....leave or I'll tell the other officers" I said. Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Go ahead," he said confidently, his hand sliding into my underwear. "Who do you think they'll believe? The quiet little prisoner or the chief security guard?" He started to caress me slowly.

And I couldn't reply. I was silent. "Exactly," Gojo whispered, his fingers exploring further as he hooked his legs around mine to keep me from kicking him off. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet," he warned, his other hand reaching up to cover my mouth. "Or I'll have to gag you..."

"please leave me I don't want this." I begged. Gojo's smirk widened. "Too good for a criminal's touch?" He pulled his hands away suddenly, his voice harsh. "Maybe I should make you scream instead. Give the guys out there what they've all been dreaming of." He unbuckled his belt threateningly. "Answer me honestly - do you want this or not?"

"I don't.... P-Please" I said. His expression softened slightly at the plea, but his hand remained on his belt. "You're making the wrong choice," he said softly, leaning in close. "You don't know those men they're ready to get their hands on you any time they want. Just for pleasure" His fingers traced my neck possessively. "I don't want you just for pleasure.... I want you permanently....all mine" he whispered.

Fear grabbed me by my neck. I couldn't even think anything when suddenly he kissed me again. He deepened the kiss forcefully, his tongue invading my mouth as he pressed his body against mine. His hands released my wrists to roam my body again, gripping and squeezing roughly. He only broke the kiss to start unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other still holding my head in place.

he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Gojo leaned down to capture my mouth again, his bare chest pressing against mine as he pinned me beneath him. His calloused hands explored my body roughly, leaving red marks in their wake. He broke the kiss again to nip and suck at my neck, marking me possessively.

Then he tore off my shirt. I wasn't wearing any bra. "You're fucking hotttt," he muttered, eyes darkening as he took in my exposed body. His rough hands traced my curves before moving to my breasts, squeezing and kneading. He lowered his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other.

"P-Please stop" I begged. "Too late for that," Gojo muttered, releasing my nipple with a pop. He raised his head to look at me, taking in my scared expression and half-naked body. He grabbed my pants and pulled it down with my panties. "Spread your legs," he ordered softly, his voice lower than before.

I didn't do anything. I was too scared. Gojo growled in frustration as I refused to comply. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, spread your fucking legs," he repeated, more forcefully this time. With lightning speed, he grabbed both my thighs and forcibly pushed them apart, settling himself between them.

I cried out. He unbuckled his belt and pants with one hand, kicking them off his legs. He was left in just his boxers, the bulge prominent. He hooked his arms under my knees, pulling my legs up and back, exposing me completely.

Gojo shoved his boxers down, freeing his rigid cock. Without hesitation, he thrust forward, brutally piercing into my pussy. He groaned loudly, not caring if the entire jail heard my screams. "Fuck, so tight..." he grunted, starting to pump into me violently.

Gojo reached between my legs to rub my clit roughly, the stimulation making my cries even more desperate. He fucked me mercilessly, his cock pounding into my pussy like a jackhammer.I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He was panting.

He sits on the floor. The sound of his panting filled the room. Suddenly he started laughing. "I've heard you're in jail for a crime you didn't even. And you also don't have any family to help you.... and also I've heard that you are going out of jail this year. Don't worry darling, I know how to make you permanently MINE" He said darkly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[matchpointfaist]

a love like religion ˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sheltered! art x flirty reader pt iii

the third time he saw you, art couldn’t decide between happy and horrified. he’d been doing his best to stay focused on his studies, his faith, and his training; on anything but you. his thoughts drifted, sure, but for the most part he thought he was doing pretty well. an entire week passed, and he managed to avoid you on campus, ignoring his fleeting thoughts of wishing to see you, even for just a moment.

he knew, in the back of his mind, that attending his teammates birthday party was a mistake. he knew you were in the same social circle, that you’d probably be there, all gorgeous and flirty and drunk and- it was just best if he didn’t see you.

he told himself he wasn’t taking extra care in his appearance for you; he just wanted to look good, that’s all. a birthday party is a big deal. so he got dressed in a button up and jeans, made sure his hair was perfect and his cologne wasn’t too strong, and tried to keep his head high as he entered the already too loud party.

almost immediately, his eyes fell to you. everyone’s did, though, he couldn’t blame himself. you were a vision of pink and silver shimmer, your hair falling down the dangerously low back of your dress. his breath quickened, his mind racing with excuses on how to get out of here before you noticed- and then, your sharp eyes were on his, a dangerous little smile on your glossy lips.

“donaldson!” your voice carried over the music like a melody, like some sort of siren call crafted just for him, rendering him helpless, “cmere!” and he practically floated to your side, a nervous smile on his lip, “uh, hi, hey. i didn’t know you’d be here,” he managed, biting the inside of his cheek and hoping he didn’t think too stupid.

“course id be here,” you grinned, “what’re you drinkin? i can get you a refill,” he shook his head, “no, i don’t drink, i can just get a water,” “you don’t drink?” you laughed, like it was the most insane thing in the world, “cmon, artie. come with me,”

so he followed you to the kitchen, let you pour him a cup of stale beer even though he knew it was wrong, it was stupid, it was a sin. “it’s cheap shit, but it’s fine,” you sounded almost apologetic as he sniffed it, trying to keep his nose from scrunching, taking a shy sip. “you look pretty,” he said after a moment, choking down the beer with what he hoped was only a slight grimace.

“you too,” you smiled, and for just a brief second, it seemed real. not like that fake, mocking smile you gave everyone else. in a flash, though, it was gone, replaced by the coyness you showed the rest of the world, “nice shirt. green looks good on you,” you trailed your fingers over the collar of his shirt, and he almost lost it right there in the crowded kitchen, his head swimming. “my grandma got it for me,” his cheeks flushed, acutely aware that was not the right thing to say, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“cute,” you just smiled, “here, finish that and i’ll make you another, kay?” he shook his head, already regretting the first round, “no, i really can’t, i’m sorry,” he rambled, “i have class tomorrow and i don’t drink anyway and-“ “don’t worry about it,” you rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine, artie. we’ll have fun anyway, yeah? you can just watch me drink,” you teased. and oh, he did watch you. all night, you practically dragged him around the party, inches from you at all times.

he watched you laugh, watched you dance, watched you drink and smoke and all the things he’d always be too afraid to do. he watched you in rare moments of your true form as you interacted with your girl friends, watched you shut down the guys that tried to dance too close to you. he watched so intently he felt like he had learned who you really were in just a few short hours, like he’d cracked some sort of code he must have missed before.

at 11, he debated leaving without even saying goodbye, just leaving you to your dancing and talking. but as he turned to leave, you were calling his name, a little pout on your lips that sent him reeling. “i’ll walk you home,” you offered, and he took note of your heels in your hand, your bare feet on the floor. “no, that’s alright,” he smiled slightly, “thank you, though. that’s kind of you,”

“let me,” you pressed, “at least let me walk you out, art,” so he did, of course, like he did everything else you asked of him. you walked with him to his dorm, and when you asked to come in, he let you do that, too. even when his head was screaming at him to stop, that this wouldn’t end well, that temptation was the gateway to sin.

you just looked so fucking pretty, sitting there on his bed, your heels tossed in the floor and the skirt of your dress on his comforter. he wished he could memorize the moment, bottle it up and save it for when this night ended. surely you’d never be back there, he told himself, this was just one time. a lapse in judgment, on both your parts.

but then he was sitting beside you, and your perfume was so sweet, and your words were even sweeter when you asked him about his hometown and his family and the pictures on his bookcase. you sounded like you really cared, like you thought he was interesting. you, of all people.

“you can relax,” you told him, and his heart nearly stopped as you pressed your leg to his, scooting closer on his bed, “jesus, you’re so tense. i’m not gonna bite you, yknow. not unless you like that,” you winked again, and his cheeks were flushed, his mind working overtime to form words that just wouldn’t come.

“you shouldn’t be in here,” he finally blurted out, his eyes wide with fear of the way it sounded, like he didn’t want you there when that could not be further from the truth, “sorry- that came out wrong. i just- i can’t be with anyone, and you’re in my room and it’s late-“

“you can’t be with anyone?” you repeated, a laugh on your lips, “why not, hm? is the devil gonna getcha if you slip up?” and then your hand was back on his necklace like all those days before, touching it, burning into his skin, “live a little, art,”

and then you were kissing him, and oh god, oh god, oh god. it was heaven and hell and a mistake and bliss and burning and soothing and everything he’d been too afraid to admit he’d ever wanted. you tasted like vodka and cotton candy and sacrilege and he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the sounds leaving him from the simple act of your kiss, couldn’t stop his hands from wandering and fuck, you were so warm and so soft and he could’ve died right there when you climbed into his lap, kissing him dizzy, tipping his jaw open with your fingers and dipping your tongue into his mouth.

he would’ve let you do anything in that moment, would’ve let you ruin the path he’d been on for so many years, would’ve let you dismantle all his plans and his faith and anything you wanted if you just kept grinding against him, kept kissing him so sweetly, so dangerously.

and then you sank to your knees off the bed, your hands pulling at his belt and your eyes shining as you blinked up at him, a sultry little smile on your swollen lips. “you’re so hard,” you hummed, sounding content as you pulled down his jeans, “has a girl ever touched you like this, hm?”

“no,” it came out like a whine, his hips bucking into your hand as you ghosted your fingers over his cock, “jesus- no, no one has,” you made a little noise, like you were pleased, and your eyes widened as you pulled down his boxers, taking him into your hand. “this is so- oh, this is so bad,” he hissed in half-pleasure, half-anguish as you pumped him slowly, your lips parting. “why’s it bad?” you asked, so innocently, so sweet, “just making you feel good, art. that’s all,”

“a sin,” he panted, eyes screwed shut, knowing full well if he looked at you he’d finish right there, just from your hand, “this is- sex before marriage is a sin and,” he trailed off, fucking into your hand despite himself, a little whine leaving his throat.

“oh, no,” you tsked, and when he dared to open his eyes, you were pouting up at him, “it’s okay, art. i’ll be good, yeah? i’ll make up for it,” he didn’t have time to question how before your tongue was on him, licking at the tip like a lollipop, and his eyes rolled back, his hands fisted in his sheets.

“forgive me father, for i have sinned,” you murmured, and he choked out a moan as you took him into your mouth fully, so warm and wet and close- fuck, he was so close. you pulled away with a pop!, “holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners,” and then his cock was down your throat, and you were humming around him and he was so fucking close- his hands were in your hair before he could think to stop himself, his hips bucking into your mouth, your name leaving his lips between moans and pleas.

he didn’t know what he was asking for, exactly. forgiveness, release, for you to slow down so this never stopped, but for you to make him cum down your throat like he’d imagined so many times before. one hand was in your hair, the other clutching his sheets as he came, panting and moaning and whining he opened his eyes in just enough time to see you licking your lips clean, wiping your chin with a grin, sucking your thumb into your mouth.

you leaned down, kissing him until all he could taste was salt and sweat and you, god, you, and then you were gone, his lips still hot. “amen,” you whispered against his ear, gathering your heels and pausing at the door, “see you around, art,”

and then, for the second time, you were gone. he looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw what was left in his floor. your pink lacy panties, complete with a little wet patch, bundled up just for him.

“forgive me father,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the lace and tucking it into his nightstand, not even bothering to clean himself up before curling up and drifting off, his mind busy with thoughts of you.

[redrose10]

Can we do professor/student “quiet baby the others will hear you”. Please ?

<Quiet Baby>

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Professor Yoongi x Female College Student Reader (both consenting adults)

Warnings: Jealousy, using someone else to make someone jealous, light smut (smuttier than I planned but nothing crazy), swearing

I hope you like it! Also, since it wasn’t noted, I wrote this with Yoongi because it just fit him. I hope that’s okay!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

There was nothing sexier than watching your boyfriend looking all studious surrounded by books and papers, his tie undone hanging loosely around his neck, sleeves rolled up, and his glasses on the tip of his nose as he was buried deep in thought making notes and editing his paper. His recently bleached hair (he was a sweetheart and let you test out a new product on his hair before sacrificing your own) was tousled from hours of running his hands through it. He was finishing up his dissertation in preparation to obtain his PHD and you were so beyond proud of him.

You were also getting incredibly turned on by the sight in front of you.

Before you knew it you were inserting yourself between him and the table to straddle his lap. Slowly you started placing kisses down his neck.

“Y/N…please.”, he grumbled.

“Come on Yoongi. You’ve been working all night. Let me make you feel good.”, you mumbled into his skin focusing your lips on the spot just behind his ear that always drove him crazy.

“Y/N.”, he hissed as you began rolling your hips a little, “Any other time your clothes would already be across the room, but I really need to focus right now.” He placed a kiss on your lips before scooting the chair back slightly to make it easier for you to hop off.

He chuckled seeing your pout and the defiance of you refusing to get up. “I promise I’ll make it up to you once I turn this paper in. I’ll be all yours for anything you want.”, he said before giving your thigh a light smack to encourage you to get up.

“Fine.”, you huffed and retreated to the bedroom to try and get some sleep instead.

When you woke up the next morning Yoongi was already gone. On Thursdays he had an early morning lecture. Not only was your boyfriend a smart phd candidate, but he was a hard working college professor teaching a physics course.

And you just happened to be lucky enough to be in his 2pm class. Which gave you a great idea because you were still a little bit annoyed that he had rejected you so easily the night before. So you carefully selected your outfit, a short black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse neatly tucked in with a pair of sheer black tights and your favorite black pumps, an outfit Yoongi had told you many times absolutely drove him crazy. To anyone else you were dressed up to give a presentation or maybe you were having a job interview, but you knew he would know the real reason and it would get to him and you could feel the excitement building.

When he walked into the lecture hall closing the door behind him your breath got caught in your throat. He greeted a few of the students as he made his way to the front of the class. He looked so warm and cozy and handsome in his favorite pea coat his cheeks just a little red from the cold winter air. You smiled when you noticed the blue sweater he had underneath, a Christmas gift you’d given him last year. You were really glad you decided to go back to college giving you the chance to meet and fall in love with such a man.

You did your best to keep your composure as he took off his coat and set up for class because no one else knew that the two of you were a thing. Even though you were two consenting adults, the school still wouldn’t like it.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi didn’t really seem to notice or care about the little ensemble you were wearing. You didn’t get a smile or even an eye roll which you would have appreciated. This only made you more determined to get him worked up just as much as you.

“Hey Jimin?”, you whispered to the man next to you. When he looked in your direction you leaned over in his direction, “Do you happen to have the notes from last class that I could copy? Somehow I lost mine.” Enthusiastically he nodded and handed you his notebook, “Yeah of course. Color coded and everything.”

“Thank you Jimin!”, you exclaimed, “You’re just the best!”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Miss L/N…Mr. Park…is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”, he said. Jimin sat up straight and shook his head, but you were less afraid of Yoongi. “Nope, we’re good. I just really needed some help and Jimin was happy to assist.”, you said with a smile. Yoongi eyed you both before turning back to the board to continue with the lecture.

“Wow is it warm in here or just me?”, you sighed quickly undoing a couple more buttons on your blouse. The top of your white lace bra just barely peaking through. Jimin, being quiet the gentleman, did his best to keep his eyes focused on the front of the room. That is until you leaned over unnecessarily close to him giving a better view of your cleavage and bra, “Here are your notes! Thanks again. You’re such a life saver. And a cutie on top of it!,” Shyly he chuckled before grabbing the notebook out of your hands.

Yoongi clapped his hands together, “Well it looks like the snow is getting pretty bad out so why don’t we end class early so you all can get home. We’ll pick up from here next class. Be safe out there everyone.”

You couldn’t help but pout a little feeling like you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do. Although it did warm your heart thinking about how he worried for the safety of his students. As you were packing up your belongings you heard him clear his throat again, “Miss L/N, can I please have a word with you?”

Slowly you finished packing up your stuff as you waited for the last few students to leave the room. When you were alone you walked over to his desk ready to get a talking to or something of that matter.

“I’m not really in the mood for one of your lectures right now.”, you groaned when you got in front of him.

But he surprised you by grabbing your hips spinning you around and pinning you against the desk underneath him, “Yeah then what are you in the mood for hmmm?”

He kissed your lips before slowly moving his own lips down your neck to your chest nipping at the skin and pulling your bra away with his teeth. This was completely unlike him. He definitely wasn’t into PDA especially around the campus.

“Yoo-Yoongi.”, you stuttered out. His hands slowing pulling up the hem your skirt as his fingers trailed up your thighs making your brain turn to mush. “What do you think you’re doing to me huh? You teased me last night when I was busy. I could barely focus. Now you’re teasing me here…showing up to class dressed like this…flirting with Park right in front of me. Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself?”

He rocked his hips against you to give emphasis on the word hard. The feeling making you whine out in need. “S-Someone’s opening the door.”, you finally managed to get out in a panic.

Yoongi grabbed your things and your hand and swiftly pulled you into the small closet off to the side.

On the outside you could hear chairs being moved and a few mumbles from students coming into the room getting ready for the next class.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest thanks to the fear of being caught, but your boyfriend seemed to have other ideas.

He gripped your hips pulling you back against him gently grinding himself against your backside. You bit your lip to stifle a moan at the thought and feeling of him needing you so badly.

The professor started the lesson and was going on and on about some equation. You tried to keep your focus on what was happening out there so that you could hear if anyone was coming to the closet and give yourself time to come up with a story to explain everything, but Yoongi’s grip on your hips intensified as he quickened his movements behind you. At some point one of his hands had reached into your blouse and lifted your bra up giving him easy access to gently squeeze at your breasts. The sensation making you arch your back and push yourself onto him even more. Both of you struggling to keep quiet.

Without another word he pulled up your skirt until it was around your waist. The tights were a lost cause those being nearly ripped from your body at the start. The sound of his belt being undone sent a burning feeling through your body.

“Is this what you wanted? What you were so needy for?”, he asked.

Unable to speak you nodded.

“You had no problem talking to Jimin earlier, but now you can’t speak? I want words Y/N.”, he whined feeling your wetness with his fingers.

“Y-yes. I need you Yoongi. Right now. I need you. Please.”, you mewled bracing yourself against the walls of the closet.

“Good girl.”, he gritted as he easily entered you in one go. Both of you doing your best to stay silent.

“Yoongi move please.”, you begged needing more stimulation.

“I-I know baby. I just..I need a minute.”, he groaned into your shoulder blade. Still upset about the prior night you decided to clench around him as hard as you could making him hiss before immediately pulling out so he wouldn’t finish so quickly.

“You think you’re funny don’t you.”, he spat while spinning you around to face him.

“Yeah a litt-“, you tried to respond, but were silenced when he hoisted you up holding you against the side wall of the closet. He entered you once again, but this time didn’t wait for either of you to adjust. He started pounding into you with such a rapid pace you completely forgot where you were and a loud drawn out moaned escaped you.

You put your hand over your mouth in shock because it sounded like footsteps were getting closer and closer to the closet.

Yoongi continued to lazily thrust in and out of you like he was determined for both of you to finish no matter what happened and you had to admit that the feeling was getting you close.

After a minute of silence the footsteps moved farther and farther away and the professor resumed the lecture.

You looked at him to see if he still wanted to continue and it seemed that he did because he picked up the pace again while sucking a bruise into your skin. You willed yourself to not make any more noise, but every time Yoongi would hit that spot just perfectly getting you closer and closer to your release, you would whine and whimper just a little bit more.

“Quiet baby the others will hear.”, he smirked before picking up the pace even more this time. It didn’t take much longer for the two of you to both come undone together. He held you up for a minute while you caught your breath. Slowly he let you down and pulled out, both of your wincing at the overstimulation.

“Fuck Y/N. That was so hot.”, he sighed as he grabbed his scarf out of his bag to help clean you up. “Yeah uh…I didn’t mean for it to go exactly like this, but I’m not complaining.”, you giggled, “So uh how long is this class?”, you asked suddenly realizing you were going to be stuck in the closet for a while.

“This is a quantum physics class and it usually lasts about two hours.”, he apprehensively said.

“Well that sucks.”, you scoffed feeling a little annoyed now.

“Does it though?”, he asked pulling you against him once again, “I don’t know about you, but I could definitely go for another round…maybe two.”

[muhlsworld]

IDFC

pairing: nika muhl x fem!reader

synopsis: nika swears she doesn’t care until she notices she’s losing you

WARNINGS: angst, nika kinda being an ass, cussing

you and nika have this on and off thing going on between the two of you. no fault of your own of course. you wanted to be with her. but she always brushed it off when you brought it up.

it had become sort of habit where you two would hook up and act all domestic only for nika to get all cold with you a few days later. it was exhausting but you wouldn’t leave. you cared deeply for her and for some reason you thought she did too.

you figured nika would come around on her own time. you didn’t want to rush her. you knew she was in a relationship with a guy from the men’s team and it was kinda serious. so you thought maybe that’s why she didn’t want to be in a relationship right now. and you were fine with waiting because of that. although her breakup had been about a year ago.

although you and nika weren’t exclusive by any means you took it upon yourself to not see other people. you for some reason had assumed nika would be the same way.

so here you are walking to nikas dorm because you wanted to talk to her. she hadn’t been answering your texts these past couple of days so you decided to go to her dorm, this was a common thing that happened when she wouldn’t reply.

as you’re getting closer to her door you see it open. you think you’re about to see nika walk out so you pick up the pace but then you stop dead in your tracks. it was some random girl walking out in a uconn practice shirt. the sight made your stomach uneasy.

you watch as she turns around and places a kiss onto nikas lips. you had tears pooling in your eyes at the sight. once that girl had left nika turned to look in the hallway and that’s when she saw you. but it’s as if you didn’t matter to her. she simply looked in your direction and then receded back into her dorm and closed the door.

you went back to your dorm immediately. you and nika weren’t exclusive so why did it hurt you so bad that she was seeing other people?you thought she actually liked you but maybe she just didn’t care.

but it was the exact opposite. back at nikas dorm she was panicking. she saw the look on your face. you were hurt. and she knew why. she had never intended for you to see that. it was a mistake.

nika liked you. she really did. she was just scared of the commitment from her last relationship. so she thought by pretending she didn’t care she wouldn’t be hurt again. and it was working until she saw your face of hurt and betrayal.

it had been a few days since what you saw outside nikas dorm and you were done. no more of this hot and cold game you guys had going on. you were just gonna leave her alone and love your life.

nika had assumed you’d confront her about what you saw. seeing as that was how things always were between you two. you would always contact nika first. but this time your message never came. she was confused but didn’t think anything of it and just kept waiting.

it had been two weeks and it was complete radio silence on your end. you hadn’t reached out at all. you were done.

you were walking back to your dorm after some classes and hanging out with friends when bumped into nika on the way. “oh sorry.” you said sweetly thinking you bumped into a stranger at first. but then you saw it was her. “oh hey i’ve been meaning to talk to you.” nika said completely ignoring the apology. “about?” you questioned. even though you had a feeling on what it was about.

“what you saw outside my dorm.” she stated. “don’t worry about it” you said calmly and nika looked confused at your answer. “we weren’t exclusive. you didn’t owe anything to me. we’re good.” you said in a harsher tone. you had never spoken to nika like that and it confused her.

“what?” she asked the confusion laced in her voice. “you’re free to see whoever you want nika. you don’t owe me an explanation. i just want no part in it.” you said firmly. you had an unreadable expression on your face. but with that you walked into your dorm leaving nika outside alone with her thoughts.

after your last conversation nika was sure you would still come around. you always did.

but then she saw you with another girl. it was a girl from the volleyball team. she recognized her. you guys were walking and talking together. and you seemed happy but nika didn’t like it. she realized you were moving on. and she didn’t want that.

how could she have let her immature actions push you away. you were everything she could’ve wanted and now she couldn’t have you all because she pushed you away on her own when you had been nothing but patient with her.

she was gonna get you back. if it was the last thing she did.

it was now a saturday night and there was party going on. you decided to go with your friends thinking it would be a good time and you could meet new people.

so here you were in the middle of the dance floor dancing away with your friends. you were having such a good time. until you saw nika approaching you. you had mentally rolled your eyes what was about to happen. “i need to talk you.” she said. and before you could even reply she had dragged you to the bathroom.

“what you saw that day meant nothing to me okay? i have been trying to come to terms with my feelings and i like you okay? i really do and i was just scared.” she blurted out immediately. you looked at her wide eyed not expecting that confession. “why didn’t you talk to me?” you asked. “i was scared. with everything that happens with my ex i just wasn’t sure what to do.” she said and then followed up with “i never meant to hurt you.”

you heard the softness in her voice and you could tell that she was telling the truth. you wanted to be with nika but she would have to do it right.

“look we can start something again but if we do we’re gonna do it right.” you said and nika immediately nodded and took a sigh of relief. “you’re going to take me out first and we’re gonna talk. we’re gonna have a real talk this time.” you said. “okay okay yes whatever you say.” nika said excitedly.

you smiled at how excited she was and you placed a soft kiss on her cheek and walked out of the bathroom.

nika had changed her ways for you and you couldn’t have been happier. she was really trying this time. she couldn’t risk losing you again. she never realized just how important you were to her until she almost lost you.

but here you are now almost three months later, both of you happier than ever.

A/N: the end is kinda sloppy but i hope you guys like it!

[andy-15-07]

hii i read always about pedro pascal characters being grumpy towards reader and then feeling bad about it and comforting her so i just wanted to ask maybe reader being grumpy about something and being angry towards pedro himself or any of his characters and they are like confused and hurt, did they do something and then reader comforting them and shushing them that everything is okey and that they did nothing wrong, like babying them🩷🩷

Shushing the Storm

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 3247 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The wind howled outside the ramshackle shelter you’d taken refuge in, its mournful song echoing the turmoil that churned inside you. The remnants of a once-bustling world lay in ruins beyond the makeshift walls—a constant reminder of loss and struggle. Inside, however, the conflict was of another kind. It was raw, messy, and incredibly personal.

You sat at a battered wooden table, arms crossed tightly over your chest, staring daggers at Joel as he meticulously cleaned his old revolver. His normally stoic face was shadowed with an expression that seemed a blend of regret and confusion. The silence between you had stretched thin over the past few days, each passing moment weighted by words left unsaid and wounds unhealed.

“Joel,” you finally said, your voice low and edged with frustration. “Why do you always have to be so damn grumpy? I’m tired of it.”

He paused, the clink of metal against metal echoing in the quiet. Slowly, he set the gun aside and turned to you, his eyes searching yours for an answer he didn’t quite have. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, his tone soft and uncertain, as if he were afraid any misstep might shatter something fragile between you.

“Don’t lie to me,” you snapped, the anger bubbling over. “Every time something’s off, you shut me out. You snap, you grumble, and you leave me hanging without an explanation. It’s like I’m not even here.” Your words were harsh, each syllable laced with the pent-up hurt of countless moments when you felt invisible, unwanted.

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he stepped back as if physically recoiling from the weight of your disappointment. “I—I'm sorry,” he murmured, but his apology sounded more like a reflex than genuine remorse. His voice was low, almost drowned out by the rain that began tapping against the metal roof of the shelter.

The tension in the room grew palpable. You could see the conflict in his eyes—his hardened exterior cracking just enough to reveal a vulnerable, confused man beneath. “Sorry isn’t enough, Joel,” you said sharply. “I need to know that you’re really here with me, that you care enough to try to fix this.”

He shifted his weight uneasily, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I do care,” he replied, his voice barely audible. “I just... sometimes, I can’t help it. I’ve been through hell, and sometimes, I carry that with me, even when I don’t want to.”

You softened slightly at his confession, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “That may be true, but I’m not your enemy,” you whispered, the bitterness in your tone giving way to genuine concern. “I’m here, Joel. I’m right here. And when you push me away, it hurts.”

Joel’s eyes dropped to the floor, shame mingling with a hurt he couldn’t quite hide. “I didn’t realize... I—I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was sparing you from my baggage,” he confessed, his words a murmur of regret.

You leaned forward, your expression softening further as you reached out a tentative hand towards him. “You’re not a burden,” you said, your voice gentle yet insistent. “You never have been. I know things are hard, and I know you’re scared sometimes. But I want to help, Joel. I want us to face this together.”

For a long, heart-stopping moment, silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the rhythm of the rain. Joel looked up at you then, eyes glistening with unshed tears and confusion. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I’m scared of letting you in, scared that if I do, you’ll see how broken I am.”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe,” you said softly, “but I’d rather see that brokenness and help put it back together than never know the real you at all.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for any sign of mockery or disdain, but finding only sincerity and compassion. “I don’t deserve your kindness,” he whispered, his tone laden with self-doubt.

“Shh, Joel,” you murmured, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You do. And I’m not going anywhere.” The simple words carried the weight of your promise—a promise to be there even when things were messy, even when the storm inside him threatened to spill over.

Later that evening, as the storm outside began to wane, you found Joel sitting alone on the splintered porch of the shelter, staring blankly at the rain-soaked horizon. The world might have been falling apart, but you couldn’t bear to leave him alone with his demons any longer.

You approached quietly, settling down beside him on the creaking wooden steps. “Hey,” you said softly, nudging his shoulder with your hand. “Talk to me.”

Joel didn’t immediately respond, his eyes fixed on the distant, darkened skyline. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You turned to face him, studying the lines of exhaustion and regret that marred his face. “Joel, it’s okay,” you reassured him, placing a comforting hand over his. “I know you’re hurting, and sometimes you don’t know how to handle it. But I need you to understand that when you shut me out, it leaves me feeling alone too.”

He looked at you, the hurt in his eyes deepening. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured. “I thought I was protecting you, keeping you safe from my pain.”

“You’re protecting yourself, Joel,” you replied firmly, though your tone was gentle. “And I get that. But you have to let me in too. You’re not alone in this fight. I’m here, and I want to be part of your healing.”

There was a pause, during which the only sound was the soft murmur of the evening breeze and the distant echo of dripping water. Joel swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands. “I’m just so tired,” he confessed, almost inaudibly. “Tired of pretending, tired of feeling like I’m always on the edge. Sometimes, I just... I just don’t know how to stop the storm inside.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your eyes filled with compassion. “Then let me help calm that storm,” you whispered, your voice laced with tenderness. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Joel. It’s okay to let your guard down. I’m here to remind you that you’re not broken beyond repair.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was more sorrow than humor. “You make it sound so simple,” he remarked, his tone bittersweet.

“It isn’t simple,” you admitted, shifting closer so that your shoulders touched. “But sometimes, even when things seem impossible, a little kindness can go a long way. I’m not trying to fix you, Joel—I’m just here to remind you that you’re loved, flaws and all.”

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability etched in every line of his face. “I—thank you,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “For not giving up on me.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Never,” you promised, your voice gentle yet firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The following morning, the shelter was filled with a tentative warmth. The storm had passed, leaving behind a calm that was reflected in the clear, pale light of dawn. Over a modest breakfast of canned beans and stale bread, the atmosphere was markedly lighter than it had been in the preceding days.

“Joel,” you began hesitantly, “can we talk about what happened? I don’t want us to just sweep it under the rug.”

He looked up from his cup of weak coffee, eyes filled with a cautious hope. “Of course,” he replied. “I know I’ve been... distant. I’m sorry for how I acted. I—” He paused, searching for the right words, “I’ve been carrying a lot of guilt about my past, and it sometimes makes me push you away. I don’t want to do that. I’m trying, I really am.”

You reached out, placing your hand over his, offering silent reassurance. “I appreciate that,” you said softly. “But I also need you to understand how it affects me. When you get grumpy or distant, it makes me feel like maybe I’m not enough. Like maybe you’d rather be alone than deal with my needs.”

His face fell, and for a moment, you saw the raw sting of his insecurities. “That’s not true,” he insisted, his voice shaking slightly. “You’re more than enough—if anything, you’re the reason I keep fighting. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You offered him a small, forgiving smile. “I know you don’t. And I’m not angry with you, Joel. I’m angry because I know you’re hurting, and because I care about you so much. I just wish you’d let me in more often.”

A long silence passed as he absorbed your words. Finally, he said, “Maybe I’ve been too afraid of being vulnerable. I’ve spent so long thinking that if I showed any weakness, it would all come crashing down. But… maybe it’s time I learned that it’s okay to lean on someone else.”

Your eyes shone with relief and tenderness. “It is okay,” you assured him. “Sometimes, being vulnerable is the bravest thing you can do. And I’ll be here to help carry the weight when it gets too much.”

Joel’s fingers curled around yours in a tentative grasp, as if testing the strength of the connection between you. “Promise me,” he said, his voice earnest, “that you’ll be patient with me. That even on my worst days, you won’t give up on me.”

“I promise,” you replied without hesitation. “I’m here for the long haul. Even when things get rough, I’ll always be here to shush the storm inside you and remind you that you’re safe.”

He gave a small, grateful laugh. “You really do have a way of making things seem less terrible,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

“Maybe it’s because I know that sometimes, the roughest storms hide the most beautiful rainbows,” you said, your tone light but sincere. “And I believe in you, Joel—even when you can’t believe in yourself.”

As the days turned into weeks, the delicate dance between anger, hurt, and healing continued. There were still moments when Joel’s grumpiness would flare up—when memories of his past would surge forth like unwelcome ghosts—but each time, you found yourself ready to meet him with understanding instead of frustration.

One chilly evening, after a particularly difficult day scavenging for supplies in the ruins of an abandoned town, you returned to the shelter to find Joel slumped in a corner, his face obscured by shadow. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You approached slowly, not wanting to startle him, but determined to offer the comfort he so desperately needed.

“Joel?” you asked gently, crouching beside him. “Talk to me, please.”

He looked up, eyes rimmed with tears and haunted by exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice cracking under the strain of emotions. “I know I’ve been a mess lately. I... I feel like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to come up for air.”

You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you spoke softly, “It’s alright. You don’t have to apologize for feeling like this. It’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to cry.”

He leaned into your embrace, the rawness of his pain palpable. “I feel so weak, so broken,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I keep pushing everyone away because I think it’s easier than facing how much I need them.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’re not weak, Joel. You’re hurting, and that’s human. It’s okay to let yourself feel it. I promise, you don’t have to carry this all by yourself.” Your words, soft and earnest, were meant to be a soothing balm to his wounded spirit.

He sniffled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “I’m scared that if I let you in completely, you’ll see just how damaged I am and… maybe you won’t want to stick around.”

“Joel,” you said firmly, “I’m not going anywhere. Every scar, every mistake—it all makes you who you are. And I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world because it led me to you.” You paused, your tone shifting to a tender, almost playful lilt as you added, “Besides, you’re kind of adorable when you’re trying to be all tough and mysterious. It’s like I get to be the one who gets to shush you and remind you that you’re safe.”

A hesitant smile tugged at his lips, the hint of humor breaking through the gloom. “Adorable, huh?” he teased softly, though the vulnerability in his eyes remained.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your tone light but filled with warmth. “Just promise me you’ll try to let me in a little more, okay? Even if it’s just a little bit at a time.”

“I promise,” he murmured, leaning into your embrace once more. “I’ll try. For you.”

In the weeks that followed, the shifts were subtle but profound. There were mornings when you’d catch him watching you with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, as if he was silently apologizing for all the times he’d been distant. And on days when old habits threatened to resurface, you’d gently remind him with a tender smile, “It’s okay, Joel. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’d chuckle, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I guess I do need reminding sometimes,” he’d say, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and gratitude.

One particularly quiet afternoon, as you both sat by a small fire outside the shelter, you found him staring into the flames, lost in thought. The dancing light painted shifting patterns on his weathered face. You settled beside him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll ever get past all this?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

You sighed, thoughtful. “Every day,” you admitted. “But I also believe that every storm eventually passes. And until then, we have each other. We have these moments—small, quiet moments—that remind us that even in the worst of times, there’s still hope.”

He turned to look at you, eyes softening. “You make it sound so simple,” he said, half in awe, half in disbelief.

“It isn’t simple,” you replied gently. “But sometimes, the simplest things are the most profound. Like a soft word when you’re angry, a gentle touch when you’re hurting, or a quiet reminder that you’re never truly alone.”

Joel’s gaze drifted back to the flames, and for a moment, the silence between you was comfortable—a shared understanding without the need for constant words. Then, almost shyly, he asked, “Do you really think I’m worth all this? With my baggage and my broken pieces?”

You turned to him, your eyes steady and full of certainty. “I don’t just think it, Joel—I know it. You’re worth every bit of struggle, every tear, every moment of pain, because you’re you. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

He reached out and pulled you closer, as if trying to hold onto that assurance with all his might. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for not giving up on me, even when I make it hard.”

“Never,” you promised, smoothing your hand over his hair. “I’ll always be here to shush the storm inside you, to remind you that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and that you’re loved—no matter what.”

As the fire dwindled to glowing embers, you both sat in companionable silence, the trials of the past few days melting away in the warmth of your mutual understanding. In that quiet moment, beneath a sky slowly clearing of its dark clouds, you knew that despite the scars and the struggles, there was something undeniably beautiful about the way you and Joel were learning to navigate the chaos—together.

Time moved on, as it inevitably does, carrying with it both hardship and healing. There were days when Joel’s grumpiness would creep back in, a stubborn remnant of the pain he’d carried for so long. And on those days, you’d catch him off guard with a teasing remark or a playful nudge, lightening the mood with a reminder that even the toughest exterior could be softened by a gentle touch.

One afternoon, after a long day of foraging near the outskirts of a crumbling city, you found Joel standing by the old, rusted gate of what once might have been a grand estate. The wind tousled his hair as he gazed out at the horizon, lost in his own thoughts. You approached quietly, a small smile on your lips.

“Hey, Mr. Tough Guy,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “Remember our little promise?”

He turned slightly, a wry smile forming on his lips despite the lingering shadows in his eyes. “And what promise might that be?” he teased, though there was a softness to his tone that hadn’t been there before.

“The promise that no matter how rough things get, you’ll let me in just a little more each day,” you replied, your voice playful yet sincere.

Joel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he pulled you into a gentle hug. “I think I can manage that,” he said, the warmth of his acceptance resonating in his tone. “Especially if you keep reminding me that it’s okay to be a little... weak sometimes.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, I get to be the one who shushes all that unnecessary grumpiness with a smile.”

He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him as he held you close. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a grin. “But I wouldn’t trade our little chaos for the world.”

In that moment, as the sun dipped low and bathed the ruined city in a golden glow, you both understood that life was a series of storms and quiet moments—a tapestry woven with threads of pain, hope, and the enduring power of compassion. And as long as you had each other to lean on, there was no storm too fierce, no wound too deep, and no darkness that couldn’t be softened by the light of understanding.

So here’s to the grumpy days, the moments of anger and hurt, and to the gentle shushing that followed—each a testament to the messy, beautiful journey of healing together. And as you and Joel continued to navigate the uncertain path ahead, you knew that every soft word, every tender touch, and every moment of vulnerability was a step towards mending not just the scars of the past, but the promise of a better tomorrow.

“I love you,” Joel murmured one evening as you both settled down to rest after a particularly hard day, his voice raw but sincere.

You smiled, your heart full. “I know. And I love you too—grumpiness, storms, and all.”

In that moment, as the last embers of the day faded into night, everything felt exactly as it should: imperfect, challenging, but undeniably real—and infinitely worth it.

[suugarbabe]

Mom (can I call you mom?) I need a DISGUSTING AMOUNT OF FLUFF like I need kisses YEARNING HOD THE YEARNING!?!??!?!!!!???! I'm talking DIABOLICAL angst “did you touch her?” WOUND CLEANING DESCRIPTIVE CUDDLING AND AND MOM AND I NEED MAYBE LITTLE SMUT WITH EITHER SIRIUS BLACK OR LORENZO BERKSHIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure scratching my skin begging you please your writing is my lifeline MOM FEED ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hiii lovie! mom, mommy, mommy sab; all appropriate and approved 😌

thanks sm for the request! I haven’t written smut in a hot minute so I do apologize if it’s a little jank. otherwise here you go babes (I chose Enzie baby btw)

The feeling of Enzo’s nose nuzzling against your neck before his lips attached to skin was dizzying. Your senses overloaded with all that was him and as one of his large hands splayed across your back, pulling your hips flush to his while his other braced his weight against the corridor wall you were pressed against.

“Enz,” you gasped his name out as his lips attached to a particular sensitive area just beneath your ear. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin, dragging his lips down your neck once more before finally pulling away and meeting your eyes. “I can’t help myself, baby,” Enzo’s voice was low, almost groaning out his sentences before burying his face in your neck once more, “I just wanna devour you in the hall.”

You let out a gasping laugh, knotting your fingers through his hair to pull him off you. The fuckers eyes rolled at the action, “Fuuuck, baby, love it when you’re not afraid to be rough in front of others.” His tone of slightly teasing, allowing you to push him back a step by his chest. “You’re ridiculous Enz, and we’re both going to be late.”

Enzo only smirked as he threw an arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your next lesson, “You know McGonagall actually loves me. she only gives that disapproving look to the people she cares for.” You shook your head with a grin, pushing his arm off your shoulder as you entered the classroom.

As you stepped away from his to head to your own table, Enzo grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you back to his chest before grabbing your face and slotting his lips between yours once more. “I think that’s enough, Mr. Berkshire. You’re about hitting my limit of affection displays for the term,” Professor McGonagall firmly directed your boyfriend to his seat with a pointed finger.

Your cheeks burned red as you found your own seat a few tables in front of him. “Today we will be working in partners,” McGonagall’s began, quickly having any murmurs of the class turns to groans of complaint with her finished sentence, “that I have already chosen for you.” Thankfully you were not paired with anyone too disastrous; instead getting a very nice ravenclaw boy who was immensely helpful. Even showing you how to properly hold your want to get the incantation just right.

Which all really seemed innocent enough. At least in your mind. But on your way to dinner your heard it. That sharp change in Enzo’s voice that only comes out when his possessive side does. “I’ll ask you again, and for fucking Salazar’s sake you better have a good answer. Why were you touching what isn’t yours to fucking touch?”

You couldn’t see him yet, but it was quite easy for you to visualize; that little tilt in Enzo’s head when he’s asking a question almost mockingly. Because he doesn’t really care about the answer. He’s going to hurt them either way.

There was a small crowd formed around them; you had shoved your way through a few people just in time to see Enzo’s fist connect with the Ravenclaw’s face one, two, three times before you’re calling out to Theo and Matty to stop him.

Now Enzo was pouting on the edge of his bed, trying to keep his sour look while you dabbed a gauze over his split knuckles. “Hey, that hurts!” Enzo flinched his hand back with a hiss. You smacked the side of his thigh before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back towards you, “Stop being a baby, this is your fault you know! Beating on someone for no good reason. We need to get your jealousy in check.”

Enzo rolled his eyes at your words. You were having none of it, grabbing his chin and forcing his eyes to look at you, “Don’t do that.” He narrowed his eyes at you; you could almost see the gears turning in his brain to make some sort of smart ass remark. You really didn’t want a fight, even if it was half hearted.

You repositioned your grip on his chin, catching his off guard with a hand on his throat as you pull his lips to yours. He responded quickly, his hands going for your hips and pulling you to his lap. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he pulled you both further on to the bed.

You pushed back on his shoulders, Enzo taking the hint on laying back on the bed, pulling you with him. You braced yourself on either side of his head as you deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth as you ground your his down to his, causing you both to moan.

You trailed your lips across his jaw, over the skin of skin of his neck, “You know there’s nothing to be jealous of, baby…” Enzo let out a strained grunt as your teeth grazed his collar bone, your fingertips dancing along his sides causing his muscles to twitch.

“The only one I ever want is you, Enzie baby…maybe I just need to remind you how much I appreciate you, hmm?” You sat up, pulling your shirt over your head. Enzo’s eyes grew wide, his pupils dilating, iris’s growing darker. His hands were immediately on you, marveling at your bare skin, squeezing at your waist when your fingers began undoing his trousers, “Oh fuck baby, yeah?”

He raised his hips eagerly, allowing you to slide everything down his legs. You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them the rest of the way off, his eagerness nearly radiating off him as he laid down again.

You continued to work him with your hand as you kissed and nipped at his thighs, his hips bucking, begging for more. “Patience, baby,” you teased, biting and sucking at the meat of his thigh before soothing it with your tongue. Enzo opened his mouth for a smart remark but all words were lost as you chose that moment to drag your tongue up the length of his shaft.

“Fuuucking hell, baby,” you had barely gotten started and already he was praising you. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock as you spit on the head, using your other hand to spread it along his shaft before wrapping your lips around him. Enzo let out a whine of a moan, and gods did he sound so pretty.

You started to bob your head, just shallowly at first, enough to get him worked up. Then you released with a pop, a gasp leaving his lips and almost a complaint before you took one of his balls in your mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as your hand still pumped his length, thumb swiping over the tip and making his thighs twitch.

You took the other side in your mouth, flattening snd lengthening your tongue to graze that sensitive patch of skin just before his hole that had his whole body jolting and his fingers lacing in your hair. “Holy fucking Salazar, fuck, baby you keep doing that and i’m gonna cum, but I need to be in your mouth, yeah? Please baby let me fill that pretty little throat of yours,” Enzo was practically whimpering, begging. And who were you to deny such polite requests.

You flattened your tongue again, letting him fill your mouth with his cock until you could feel him hit the back of your throat; then you pushed him a little further, testing your gag reflex and swelling around the head of his cock. Slurred expletives mixed with your name spilled from Enzo’s lips as you repeated the action. You dragged your nails along the side of his abdomen, feeling the muscles in his stomach twitch and you knew he was close.

You did your best to relax your throat, Enzo’s grip on your hair getting stronger and you allowed his full length in your mouth and down your throat, nose brushing his pelvic bone. “Oh gods oh fuck oh fuck, baby i’m cumming..i’m cumming, i-i’m cum-“ a string of whining moans left his pretty pink lips as he held his cock down your throat and filled your mouth before his grip on your head lightened.

You swallowed everything he gave you, making sure to drag your tongue up his length, licking his tip clean and smirking at the way his stomach twitched before releasing him from your mouth. Enzo’s chest rose and fell rapidly as you kissed up his stomach, over his chest and along his neck before connecting your lips with his.

He hummed into the kiss before pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek, “Mmm you know I can’t guarantee I won’t get jealous again..not when I know you can do that.” You smiled, brushing your knuckle against his cheek, “That’s okay, Enz baby. I’ll just have to remind you of your appreciating again.”

[biteyoubiteme]

rosé

yeonjun x fem!reader warnings:🔞!!! tw:stepcest, don't like don't read!, vibrator use, no penetration, mentions of biting/teeth used, panty-fucking, prob forgot some sorry wc: 2.2k an: uuummm so look away I guess I still wont take requests for this kind fic and im not tagging my usual taglist so :p pls don't read if you don't like it

“You have to be joking,” your hand is still caught on the doorknob, frozen in place as you take in the sight of your childhood bedroom. Half the space was covered in boxes, labeled in the sideways handwriting of your step-mother. But everything else was frozen in time as the day you had left for college, frozen as the last holiday you had been back, ugly Christmas sweater thrown at the edge of your bed. Even the lone mattress on the ground from where a cousin had spent the weekend was waiting to be slept in. 

And that is where Yeonjun stood, his chuckle caught between shock and humor. He was holding a half-drunk bottle of rosé, the cap still screwed on the cheap glass. “You're not very good at hiding things,” he shakes the liquid enough to draw your eyes to it. 

“Going through people's things is childish,” you mutter, tossing your bag next to the bed, “shouldn't you be in your own room?” 

It wasn't new to see him around the times that you visited, he lived only a town over, closer than you had stayed when the two of you had dispersed from home. He wanted to stay close to his mom, loved to rub it in your face when you came back that he was the better child. Your parents hadn't gotten married until the last year of high school, too soon for you to really find a connection with your new step-mom in a way that yeonjun had found with your dad. 

“They turned my room into a gym,” he kicked at the boxes littering the space, “they haven't gotten around to clearing out yours but it's going to be the guest room from now on,” 

“No-” you groaned, falling back on your bed, “I don't want a roommate for the weekend, I wanted relaxation,” it's not that you care they are changing things around but it was less appealing to have to know every time you came home you would have to spend it in the same room as any cousin, family member, or, like now, stepbrother.  Some selfish part of you hadn't liked how changed everything had become since the added members in the house had become permanent, your room had stayed yours, and if you had anything left of before it was this. 

“You don't want me around? I'm good company,” you can hear the dip in his voice, the low murmur of it making you shiver. You sit up on your elbows, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Don't take that tone with me,” but it's weak, the both of you know it, testing the line drawn in the sand every time you two had the opportunity. Spending time in such close quarters didn’t help it in the slightest. The two of you had agreed, or you had told him, that you wouldn't push it further than the teasing, and yet… 

Yeonjun’s lip lifts in a smirk, just high enough to show his teeth, calling your bluff. You remember that hazy period in time when the two of you didn't have to keep apart, fumbling kisses shared at a party, hands finding places neither of you wanted to pull away from. It was only a few weeks later when you were told about the engagement, the shock was a bucket of ice water thrown over the two of you. Suddenly flirty glances in class turned to frozen glares and when you moved in that last year together it had felt suffocating. It had been a mix of teenage annoyance and rebellion to avoid him, and you did in the short few months you spent in his company. 

Then you had both gone to college, two separate universities on opposite sides of the city. It had been easy to ignore him but easier still to find it in you to heal the indifference into tolerance. But then you found yourself at a party, the lights low and his smile just like this one now. You couldn't blame drinking, couldn't blame anything except the fact that you wanted to kiss him again, needed to devour him in the way that he had consumed your mind anytime you thought of him. 

You had been the one to stop it before it had gone too far, in the backseat of his car, grinding on him, still chasing his lips even as you said ‘We have to stop’ his soft reply of, ‘We should’ without either of you pulling away. It had been on your mind every time you saw him again, especially now. 

“Fine, but I want a thank you, I found all your contraband that you wouldn't want them to find when cleaning your room out,” he lifted the bottle again, “how long did you have this stashed in the back of your closet?” 

You had forgotten all about the bottle, less so about most things sitting in your closet, drawers, or under the bed. You had moved out your important things, anything left was by mistake or unimportant. “Who cares we are adults, a little rosé is nothing to worry over them finding,” 

“And this?” you didn't know what to expect when he lifted his hand, another lone bottle of some other drink you forgot about was nothing to worry about and yet it wasn't that. There in his hand was a slim vibrator, pink and a foreign sight in his grasp. 

“Yeonjun-” you whisper shouted, the two of you were alone in the house, the bedroom all the way up in the attic space. But it felt like you couldn't scold him loudly, your face flushing, heat spreading all over you. And he chuckled, shoulder shaking as he flicked his finger over the button to turn it on, the soft buzz making you clench your thighs. “Put it away,” 

“Should I? I charged it and it would be a shame not to use it, if even a little bit,” he stalked closer, slow like a prowl, already having his sights set on eating you alive. “And you already look like you want it on you,” you watched the way his eyes flickered down to your thighs, rubbing together as you tried to deny that they were doing so. 

“We said we wouldn't,” you whisper, hands twisting in the sheets as he leans down nose so close to bumping yours, breathing in the same air. 

“We said we shouldn't, that never stopped us before,” the last syllable is pressed right to your upper lip, the ghosting of his mouth like sweet temptation against yours, “and all I could think about since the last time was that we shouldn't have stopped, because now you're all that's ever on my mind and you're never even around to rectify that,” he leans in closer, on hand bracing beside you on the bed while you try to keep even a hairs distance from falling into his trap because once you slipped up and found yourself caught you knew you wouldn't even try to escape. “Just one kiss, please,” 

“Just one-” You couldn't even get the words out before he was on you, pressing his mouth to yours, seeking to consume you. Your hands shot out, pulling on his shirt locking him in place as he fell on top of you hardly even trying to keep his distance but you wouldn't even give him that once his lips were on yours. The two of you worked so well together, every little touch was sending sparks up and down your body. You opened your legs instinctively for him, wanted him to fit against you, slot himself in your personal space even if it was only for the length of one kiss. But that wasn't what it was, this wasn't the simple peck but a feast of pent-up want and need reduced to a single moment as if you hadn't indulged before. 

He was hot and hard, grinding against you until you were gasping into his mouth, sloppy kisses now working down your throat as he nipped at your skin, teeth looking to find every sensitive spot you had. He wanted to devour you even if he shouldn't, and you were no better. It didn't matter if you said just one kiss, the two of you knew what it meant, you had said it before and you had him on the verge of finishing untouched in his jeans but he would finish this time, he wanted to reach that spot with you. 

And you wanted it too, not caring about your previous intentions as soon as he was pressed so close to you. He reached his hand down between you two, vibrator on as he pressed it right against your clothed clit, the vibration muffled with all the fabric and yet you gasped, hips bucking up to meet the sensation. “Oh,” his open-mouthed kisses warm against the skin on your throat, your hands sliding up to his hair, twisting your fingers in the strands. He pulls away for only a second, hands falling to the waistband of your pants, needing to get them off of you. “We can't-” 

“Please- I just wanna see how wet you are for me,” he begs, forehead pressed to yours feeling your nod more than seeing it. He pulls your pants clean off, leaving you in the nearly transparent white panties you have on. Yeonjun groans at the outline of you clear as day as the fabric clings to you. He doesn't hesitate to press the vibrator right back over your clit. You try to snap your thighs closed, the one less layer making it so much harder to not react. 

His free hand comes out to trace over your cunt, fingers circling up and down as you throw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Now look at that,” he runs one finger between the fabric of your panties and your aching center, the digit coming away slick as he lifts it to his mouth to taste, your brows scrunching together as you try to hold back your whine. It's a drawn-out moan that comes from him, “You taste as good as you look,” he presses the vibrator harder on your clit, “let me fuck you- please-” 

“We shouldn't-” you try but it's caught in your throat when he clicks up the vibration, free hand back to running up and down the outside of your panties. 

“Please,” he whispers like it's ripping him apart, not being able to sink into you when you look this good. He presses his pelvis closer to you, his bulge perfect for your grinding hips to try and find a steady pace on. “Please,” he lets his hips drag along with the word, your lip caught between your teeth as you try not to cry out but it's impossible to deny him, especially when he's promising to not put it in, and you know if you say no he will stop and if you say yes you wouldn't stop him even if he did try to do more. And all you wanted was more. 

You nod, needing more of him, needing to feel something more if anything at all. He pushes his hand into his pants, tugging out his cock, veiny and slick with bubbling precum, wrist working to give it a few loose drags. You're whimpering at the sight, wishing to say to hell with not having him just fuck you into the mattress. And you almost do say ‘fuck it’ the second he presses his tip right to your covered entrance, the slick of your panties only causing him to slip, the length of him rubbing over you. 

“I won't- I won't,” he's screwing his eyes closed, shaking his head as he convinces himself more than he's telling you. Just brushing against you, feeling the vibration hitting right under his tip as he grinds down on you makes it so much worse. Every sound he's making is desperate and whiny, echoing in the room as he presses his free hand into the mattress, keeping you pressed down and in the circle of his arm. He can't control the way his hips move, just chasing the high of wanting to be in you and the feel of you so close and yet so far. 

He tries to press his tip back in, properly fucking into your panties even if there is little give before he's back to slipping and grinding back down on your cunt, clicking up the vibrator until you can feel it sending sparks all over your body, the ache in your belly turning into a blinding light before you tremble, tugging him closer to you as much as you can get. “I'm- I'm cu-” It's only a moment before your orgasm crashes into you, your body trying to pull away from the vibration and yet being stuck in place with the weight of Yeonjun over you.

And he doesn't stop or pull away, whimpering as he jerks, cock twitching right before he's spilling ropes of white all over your stomach, t-shirt a mess of it. It's not until he pulls away the vibrator, clicking it off, that he's stopped the slow dribble of cum from shooting out. 

Both of you are breathing hard, Yeonjun's face now pressing into your neck to try and hide, hips still moving, languid as he softens. “Never again,” you try to say, but both of you know the truth, especially when you're running your fingers through the hair at his sweaty temple. 

“Of course, never again,” he mutters but he's leaning right back in to kiss you. 

taglist for those who asked lol @beomiracles @beombunni and im tagging the wonderful @thetxtdevil bc she is the one who came up with this idea and gifted it to me ily mae thank you so bad-