#clumsiest shit

[creatureimages]

christmas beetle season‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

wahoo! hooray!

[ethereal-occultist]

I have never been this exhausted in my whole life I want to die

[emmafallsinlove]

every now and then i want to make friendship bracelets but i’m the most clumsy person i know and everytime i tried to make bracelets somehow i spilled all of the beads on the floor or opened the box in the opposite side. nonetheless instead of making bracelets i had to sit and pick shit up.

[skrunksthatwunk]

jumpscared by least favorite seasonal chore

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[lovebugism]

Hiiieeeeee may I maybe recommend a fic with Stevie and maybe his ditsy/clumsy gf?

And maybe she tries a new recipe and cooks/bakes something different and gives herself a nasty burn and maybe it’s the first time Steve hears her swear and he’s so concerned over her because she’s clearly hurt and crying but she’s more upset about messing up the dish instead of how badly the burn actually is?

hope u like it angel xoxo — steve patches you up after you burn yourself making breakfast for him (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of minor injuries, 1k)

French toast sizzles on a hot pan. You stand in front of the stove, in nothing but a stolen t-shirt and a modest pair of underwear, and watch it cook with your features pinched in a distant concentration. Your Stevie wanted breakfast — “’s the only thing I want in the whole world,” the boy whined dramatically into his pillow — so you were gonna make him breakfast or die trying.

Steve sits quiet at the kitchen table, sipping steaming coffee from a Count Chocula mug, and hissing every time it burns his tongue. He decides to flip through the Sunday newspaper, mostly ‘cause he feels the honeyed domesticity calls for it. He only finds real interest in the cartoon page.

“Alright. Put ‘em up,” Charlie Brown threatens in the first panel, dressed head to toe in cowboy gear. Snoopy’s in the second one, with both of his black ears sitting straight in the air.

Steve chuckles to himself, a sharp exhale through his nose, and opens his mouth to call you over. “Fuck!” he hears you squeak before he can. It makes him laugh for real this time. “Hey. Watch the language, babe,” the boy teases.

“Sorry…” he hears you murmur in response. With your back still facing him, obscuring any view of the hot stove, he figures you must’ve burnt the first batch of toast. 

It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing, anyway. You’re the clumsiest person he’s ever met (more than Robin, which he didn’t think was even possible). You’re not much of a chef either, bustling around the kitchen with a floundering air of confidence.

“Such a naughty word from such a pretty girl,” Steve jokes in an attempt to make you laugh. He hears his sensitive girl sniffle to herself instead, like you’re crying — or about to. His crooked smile ebbs. “Hey… I was just kidding, babe. You can say whatever the hell you want— I don’t care.”

His chair scrapes the tile when he stands. His socked feet pad against the floor on his way to you. “I swear all the time,” Steve says and embraces you from behind. His scruffy chin bobs on your shoulder. “I mean, you’ve heard me— I basically make up new words.”

He scoffs a faint laugh before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You sniffle again. “I messed up,” you murmur, voice wet with unshed tears.

“What do you mean?”

“The french toast. I put too much egg in the mixture, and now everything’s all sticky— It’s gonna be so gross now.”

You ramble mindlessly and gesture with your hands. Steve catches a glimpse of a red and raging welt on the outside of your thumb. The sight of the fresh burn makes his chest twist.

“Holy shit, babe.”

You meet his concerned gape with a doe-eyed look. “What?”

“Your hand— Let me see.”

He takes your fingers in his gentle, softly calloused ones. You shrug off his palpable worry but let him examine your stinging skin nonetheless. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt,” you lie through your teeth. “I barely even felt it.”

Steve’s peers at you beneath his lashes, bushy brows raised until his forehead wrinkles. “It’s gotta hurt, babe,” he insists in a monotone.

“My bruised pride hurts more.”

He grins before he means to. “Come on, weirdo— let’s get a bandaid on you,” the boy chuckles and turns off the burning stove-eye. You gasp when he tugs you out of the kitchen with a gentle hand around your wrist.

“But breakfast!” you whine in protest.

“I’ll drive us to the diner after, alright? I promise,” Steve assures as he leads you down the hallway. “That way neither of us has to die to put some food on the table.”

“Well, that’s just dramatic.”

He shrugs and flips on the bathroom light. “Maybe a little.”

You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, per Stevie’s instructions, while he fishes for the first aid kit in the cabinets. He fits just perfectly between your thighs, you notice, as he rubs ointment onto your finger with an impossibly gentle touch. You quickly forget about the raised welt on your thumb — too focused on the pretty boy who holds all his love in his hands.

“There you go. Good as new,” Steve smiles once he’s stuck a plaster flush to your skin. He doesn’t notice the small pout scrunching your pretty face until he’s closed the first aid kit. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’…” you murmur, gaze averted as you pick at the fraying hem of your oversized tee. “I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, but I messed it all up, and you ended up having to do something nice for me…”

Steve scoffs. “You do nice stuff for me all the time.”

Your frown deepens.

“You tidied up the house when I was working late yesterday,” he tells you. “And you did the dishes even though you hate doing the dishes—”

“Everyone hates doing the dishes,” you insist.

“Exactly!”

“Well, you said death would be easier than doing them, so I thought it’d make it easier on you by doing it while I was off…”

“Exactly,” Steve repeats, settling between your legs once more. He smooths a pair of wide palms over the outsides of your thighs and flashes you another pretty smile. “You make everything easier on me. Even when you don’t mean to.”

You peek at him beneath your lashes, gaze glimmering with something short of hope. “Really?” you wonder in a mousy voice.

“Yeah! All the time!” the boy scoffs without thinking. 

He wraps a pair of golden arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for a smothering hug. Your hands curl into his sweatshirt as you bury your face in his neck — inhaling the sweet scent of sleep and leftover cologne lingering there. 

Steve noses at your hair, still a bit wild from your slumber. “Except for when you accidentally burn yourself and act like it’s not a big deal,” he teases with a smile curling at your temple.

Muffled against his neck, you grumble, “It wasn’t.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

lemon poppy seed cake for me, please! Post prison Spencer and shy!reader who gets so nervous around him that they become the clumsiest person ever

You don’t mean to be a clutz, but it happens every time Spencer is around. He just happens to witness your worst moments and it makes you want to avoid him. 

Your most recent clumsy moment while Spencer was around, was you rushing to the ME’s office and slipping on something on the bottom of your shoe and almost hitting your head right into the door jam. 

Spencer catches your arm before you can, steadying you with a concerned look. “You’re going to end up needing stitches if you’re not careful.” he murmurs, you shake your head. 

“I’m careful, you just always witness my clumsiest moments.” your voice is soft and you can’t bring yourself to meet Spencer’s eyes. They’re too brown, warm and kind and it makes you feel like your entire body is a live wire that will result in your combustion. It’s made even worse when he trails his hand from your upper arm to your wrist. Spencer must know what all this closeness does to you. 

He hides a smile, stroking his thumb over your inner wrist. “C’mon, let’s go see what the ME has.” The little shit doesn’t drop your hand and you both walk at a much slower pace than you’d been going at before.

[boowritess]

Wait I’m confused is notsobadass reader actually so those things like rumors said or it’s just shits and giggles, I think it be hilarious if reader actually can and will throw a pebble through the skull of a target to kill them, like she’s some marvel style meta human with just supersoilder serum in their blood but are clumsy as shit when off the field. Like I literally got a oc who literally can’t die Deadpool style and can be very deadly in the feild but off the feild? The clumsiest person you ever saw. And she assumes all those rumors are about ghost and just unknowingly helps spread more rumors about herself? Fucking love it! Gotta have more shinangians of this.

i like to leave it as an interpretation for either way. But my personal belief is that they're just a dumbass who can do the very bare minimum. So basically, no 😂 reader cannot do those things.

And yes, reader thinks everyone is talking about ghost !! and is more than happy to share stories reader thinks is true about ghost - but the dummy speaks so cryptically people think reader is talking about themself.

what i think is funny tho, is that - no one ever actually sees reader around base. and the only time reader pops up is to drop some random lore before suddenly disappearing again.

reader just unknowingly adding to their backstory.

also reader doesn't actually disappear. reader is almost always in price's office scrolling through tik tok on their phone, playing a game, reading, sleeping or eating.

and yes it's because price is worried about their safety... and others.

[lixiesfreckless]

Love Shot | c. j.

➸ synopsis: Were you best friends with a cupid? Yes.

When your favorite cupid manages to shoot himself with his own arrow though, you realize you may be best friends with the clumsiest cupid in the heavens.

➸ starring: choi jiung x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k words

➸ general content: cupid!jiung, the reader is a succubus(demon that typically appears in men's dreams or wakes them up to have sexual intercourse), there is somewhat of a power imbalance between the reader and jiung thanks to the latter's innocence, smut

➸ warnings: like one swear word, kissing, grinding, piv, creampie, corruption(?)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author's note: don't get it twisted, this was not self-indulgent(is lying), this was all for the beloved @ashonheavenscloud whose birthday was yesterday. welcome to the double decade club bestie <3

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don't need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but I really thought Touch by Keshi kind of encapsulated the thoughts/feelings in jiung's head.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, putting down your cherry-cola bottle on the kitchen peninsula. The man panting against the wall watches your every movement as he waits for you to speak.

“You went to a nightclub to finish your matchmaking quota, and forgot to make yourself invisible,” you recall, fighting a laugh, “and some drunk guy stumbled into you and you ended up shooting yourself?”

Jiung gulps and nods frantically, not having moved from the space next to your front door since you dragged him into your apartment, originally frightened by his helpless disposition. But now you slap a hand against your thigh, doubling over in laughter as you mull over the absurdity of his situation.

“And you came to me, of all people?”

“You’re the only person I thought wouldn’t laugh at me for something like this!”

“So sorry to disappoint,” you sigh, wiping a tear away. Jiung has half a brain to pout at you before he slides further down the wall, hands grasping at the flat surface for something to hold onto as his face contorts again.

“God, it just keeps getting more intense,” he nearly whines, eyes rolling back before his head falls forward. “What happens when a cupid shoots himself with his own arrow?”

“Right, ask the succubus if she knows why the silly cupid is in pain.” You remember the pain relievers in your cabinet, and decide to save your best friend, if only for a few hours.

“I’m not-” his breath hitches, and he bites down on his lip to muffle what you’re sure would have been a scream. “Do I look like I’m in pain?”

“Yes,” you nearly laugh again, incredulous at his stubbornness. He moves off the wall, nearly tumbling into your favorite chair with a whimper, and the sound makes you reconsider your answer. “Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were-”

You halt your search for ibuprofen as you turn to look at Jiung, breathless and pink and slumped in a chair with his eyebrows knitted together. His uniform white button-down was nearly all the way unbuttoned now, and you remember Jiung claiming that you had raised the temperature of your apartment when you in fact, had not. 

Holy shit.

Maybe he had come to the right person, albeit unknowingly.

“Jiung, I want you to be very specific this time,” you say slowly, closing the door of your cabinet and exiting the kitchen. “Tell me about when you started feeling this way.”

“O-Okay, um…” 

You sit near him on a couch, eyes trained on him as he stares at the carpeted floor.

“I was walking home from the club; I left right after I got shot, because I was scared,” he explains through labored breaths, “and then I realized that I was nearing the hotel you’re staying at.”

You nod, not finding anything strange about that string of events.

“The…feeling started right after I thought about you, though.”

“What feeling?”

“Uh…” Jiung thinks for a moment before slapping a hand over his mouth, muffling what is probably the most desperate sound you've ever heard from him before continuing. “I don't really have a word for it? I'm just hot…and tingly all over…and a little dizzy.”

“And that started just because you remembered my hotel room?”

Jiung flushes an even deeper pink.

“...no.”

No?

Oh.

“Then what were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, bouncing his leg against the chair.

You take note of his line of sight and leave the couch, kneeling on the ground beside his legs. He quickly averts his gaze, not wanting to stare at your shorts or your thighs or your anything, afraid the feeling will only get worse.

“Jiung,” you whisper, taking his hand off of the armrest and holding it, “it's okay. You can tell me.”

“I can't.”

“You can.” You stand up and brush some strands of hair away from his face, giving you a clear view of his blown out pupils as you lean over him and rest one hand on the chair. His eyelashes flutter at your touch, but he still won't look at you, so you gently grasp his chin and lift it.

He looks into your eyes for all of three seconds before his resolve shatters.

“I thought about you when you came back from work the other day,” he confesses, not breaking eye contact. “You were wearing this tight dress and you looked so pretty in it, and I wanted to…” He trails off and bites his lip, and you can't tell if he's withholding his thoughts from you again or if he genuinely has no clue what he wanted.

“You wanted to…?” 

“God, I don't know. I just wanted you close to me.”

From how you're holding his chin, you allow your thumb to move upwards slightly, sliding against his plush pink bottom lip. He blinks at you rapidly and shivers, not sure what to make of the way you're staring at his mouth.

“Jiung, is it okay if I kiss you?”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, legs finally stilling.

“S-Sure,”he whispers, eyes darting all over your face once you start to lean closer, “I don't know how that would help, but-”

“Just let me know if you want me to stop,” you cut him off, and he fully relaxes back into the chair before you lightly graze your lips against his.

His eyes flutter shut and you get to work, leaning in fully and pressing your mouth to his as your hand slips behind his neck, tangling itself in ash-colored locks that reside there. Jiung has seen humans kiss before, but he's never paid it any mind, never understanding why they would want to embrace each other in that way. Now, he's never understood them more as he reacts so quickly to your touch, whimpering the moment your lips lock and trying to suppress the shivers that run through his body at the trace of your tongue.

The feeling of your mouth on his is borderline euphoric, tendrils of heat licking at every part of him before you tilt his head, allowing you access to the inside of his mouth as your lips slant against his. He doesn't know why he had never wanted to do something like this with you; in this moment he feels as though he could die a happy man, with your hands tugging on his tresses.

And then you were doing something different, something worse; you start leaving kisses in other places too, against his cheek, against his jaw, even up by his ear, a place that was so sensitive that he felt that he might explode once your lips brush against it.

“Jiung, do you know why you started to have this feeling after you thought about me?” You whisper, leaving a kiss right below his earlobe. The hand that was holding you up off the chair moves to his jean-clad thigh, and Jiung can barely choke out a response.

“N-No?”

“It's because you got turned on,” you explain, now moving your lips down to his even more sensitive neck. God, is there a place you could touch him where he wouldn't feel like exploding?

“Turned on? Like a computer?” You laugh against his neck and nod, and he gets drunk on the melody of your voice, wondering how you'd sound if the roles were reversed. “How do I turn myself off?”

“You need a release.”

“How do I…” he pauses, hardly able to catch his breath. “How do I do that?”

“First you need to build up tension,” you say, slowly sliding your hand up his thigh. “Like this.”

Before he can ask what you're doing, your fingers find his clothed erection, gently adding pressure in a way that has his insides twisting. Kissing seems to ease some of the burning feeling he was experiencing, but this? Already he’s starting to feel some relief.

“Doesn't that feel good?” You purr, pressing harder and earning a needy whine from him.

“That feels…”

Unbuttoning his waistband, you pull down his fly and slip your hand inside, grasping him fully over his boxers. The cupid gasps under you, obviously not prepared for the feeling of your cool fingers around his girth.

“Better?” You ask, squeezing him for good measure.

“Better,” he groans, not being able to tear his eyes away from the sight of your hand on his crotch. Once you start moving your hand again however, he's about to lose himself in the sensation before he looks up, noticing your concentrated demeanor.

“Are you turned on too?”

“Yes,” you nearly chuckle, finding his naïveté endearing. “Ideally it goes both ways.”

“Then let me help you release too,” he pleads, guilt following the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. “I don't wanna be selfish.”

Poor sweet Jiung. Always thinking of others even when he practically has a temptress within reach.

Removing your hand from his pants, you pull back and push his knees together, and before he can whimper at the complete loss of your touch, you kick off your slippers and cage his hips with your knees, straddling him. He doesn't see how this is supposed to build tension until you sit down fully, connecting your hips together and adding back the pressure that he craves so desperately.

You take one of his hands that's gripping the armrest and pull it towards you, guiding him to cup one of your breasts over your camisole.

“Just be gentle and go slow,” you instruct, leaning back in to kiss him despite his widened eyes, “the key is being able to read your partner.”

He barely nods before you're driving him crazy again, slotting your lips together and kitten licking the inside of his mouth. He finds himself kissing back with less restraint, returning your ministrations in earnest and noticing how your breath catches every time his teeth tugs against your bottom lip.

After a few seconds of heated kissing, he tests the waters with a light squeeze of his occupied hand, and a sound he could only describe as absolutely mesmerizing falls from your lips. Subsequently, all reservations he has suddenly evaporates, selfishly wanting to hear you more.

And as he gently massages you, pulling different sounds from you depending on how he caresses you, he thinks back to that dizzying moment on the street. He had never thought about you in that way, had never understood why your tight clothing drew men like moths to a flame, could not see how your particular cadence of speaking was so hypnotizing to the human ear.

Now, with you on top of him and starting to grind your hips over his, he wishes that damned arrow had shot him sooner.

“Can I…” he breathes, unlocking your lips for a moment, “can I kiss you in other places too?”

You nod and move your fingers downward, desperate to unbutton the rest of his shirt and get rid of it.

He's hesitant at first, but the way you're moving on top of him dissolves his shyness and he leans in, ghosting his lips above your pulse point.

He starts to leave kisses just as you undo the last button.

“Jiung,” you whimper, pushing his dress shirt back to hold him by his bare shoulders. His entire body ignites at the sound of your needy voice, his free hand quickly leaving the armrest in favor of gripping your waist. A sense of urgency fills his veins, and although he can't understand what all the rush is for, he can't help but want to please you as fast as he can, desperate to hear his name uttered in such a way again.

You're grinding down on him hard now, driving the cupid absolutely insane while he kisses any skin he can find. His skin is borderline feverish as you grip him tight, determined to reach your own high alongside his.

If Jiung is anything though, he's a damn good listener.

He's only had a few minutes to observe your reactions to his ministrations, and yet he feels as though he's been intimate with you for years, already knowing the ways you prefer to be touched and kissed. So he does exactly what you need him to, hands slipping under your top to run his thumbs along your bare chest, rubbing gentle circles against your hardened buds.

You cry out in beautiful agony, collapsing into his shoulder as you reach your climax. Even the heaven’s chorus doesn't compare to your voice; he doesn't think he could get drunk off of a sweeter sound.

As you come down from your high, you fumble with Jiung’s pants, lifting yourself off of him temporarily to pull them down along with his boxers, just enough so that his length springs free. You don't hesitate to discard your shorts before climbing back onto him and taking it into your hand, hardly giving him any time to react as you sink yourself down onto him. Thanks to your slippery arousal, the action is done with hardly any resistance, and your hips meet his in record time as he gasps.

The sensation proves to be way too much for the cupid however, since after you sink down on him, he only lasts three seconds in your wet warmth before tipping his head back, his face the picture of bliss as he paints your insides white with a drawn-out moan.

The room finally falls silent again, both of you taking in the recent events as you try to catch your breaths. A part of you says you should probably get off of him, but a much louder part of you yells at you to stay put, wanting to relish this shred of intimacy you've been granted.

“How long do the effects of your arrows usually last,” you gasp out, still sensitive and hyper aware of his presence inside you.

“I'm not…that powerful yet,” he sighs, breath hitching slightly as you shift on top of him to look at him. He's a gorgeous mess, hair disheveled, face flushed, and lips swollen. You never thought you'd be able to see your best friend like this, even after years of daydreaming about it. “A couple days max, from what I can tell.”

Damn, that's not as long as you'd hoped. But, with the nature of heaven’s laws, you suppose you should be grateful for this minor slip-up.

“I still have a few vacation days left,” you casually throw out, avoiding eye contact for the first time all night. “You know…in case you'd wanna-”

Jiung doesn't hesitate this time, leaning in to catch your lips with his once more.

extra author's note: I've had this idea for a while, but I've always wanted to know if anyone else has pondered what the effects of a cupid's arrow would do to a cherub. in my head, cupids can't really feel the full range of human emotions/desires because they aren't human. so taking the effect from an arrow, that on a human, would cause someone to become hopelessly infatuated with someone else, would just unlock those emotions/desires that were unobtainable before for a cupid...? don't think about it too hard, this is all in good fun(and to torture my bestie ofc <3)

do not copy or repost. all rights reserved.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

TMNT Individual Headcanons:

Leo:

• he's a stress eater and his favorite comfort food is the ben and jerry's strawberry cheesecake ice cream

• never lets anyone share a drink with him but will offer a bite of his food

• his nose is very sensitive so he can only handle certain smells

• hates axe body spray with a passion, he's an old spice kind of guy

• least likely to swear but when he does swear it's the most creative

• the only one who likes oatmeal raisin cookies

• his favorite candy is a toss up between kit kats and jolly ranchers

• doesn't drink too often but when he does he makes the best margaritas

• he definitely mixes all the slushie flavors together and will deny it until he dies

• is highly allergic to cats but he will always pets the strays despite this

• he laughs with his entire body and if he's laughing really hard he'll double over/fall over

• huge fan of dad jokes and really ridiculous puns

• if something ridiculous happens, he always looks at raph and they just look at eachother like 😐

• him and mikey enjoy watching horror movies together during halloween

• him and donnie seem to be the only two that can be trusted alone together in one place

Raph:

• he's a huge fan of disney movies and his favorite is beauty and the beast

• guilty of taking up all the hot water when he showers

• he either sleeps like the dead or really lightly, no inbetween

• mikey is the only one who's able to calm him down

• he prefers the smell of men's dove deodorant over any others

• he can cook certain foods but he's the only one who can grill like it's no one's business

• he has a stuffed animal he sleeps with when anxious but he'll take that to the grave

• he has the world's worst allergies and it lasts for months

• him and leo sometimes fall asleep on top of eachother during movies

• he has to brush his teeth twice a day, sometimes three depending on what he's eaten

• him and donnie have really messed up and twisted shared sense of humor

• he's team taylor over team kanye cause he hates kanye

• very good at fixing miscellaneous shit around the lair without just using duct tape

• he showers twice a day cause he's scared to smell bad

• swears a normal amount but shit is his favorite

Donnie:

• swears more than any of the others thought of swearing

• listens to the most filthy, raunchiest music but looks away during sex scenes in movies

• the clumsiest individual but has the quickest reflexes

• his sleep schedule is messed up but if he does sleep he starts out in a ball

• no one talk to him when he first wakes up for your own safety

• he runs most of his invention ideas by mikey for creative reasons and to let mikey decorate said inventions

• he can hold his breath for a ridiculously long amount of time

• unbothered to the point it's questionable if he's paying attention to anything

• likes doing patrol with leo the best because leo actually listens to him

• he loves squishmallows

• raph is the only one who's ever seen him really breakdown and cry

• hates pickles to the point he sometimes gags thinking about them

• he keeps up on all the political trends so he can argue with people online for fun

• guilty of forgetting to shower/brush his teeth when he's hyper focused

• he can't sleep without some type of white noise

Mikey:

• he cries about literally everything no matter how happy or sad it is

• loves taki's and regrets eating them cause he can't handle spicy food

• has adopted all the stray cats in the alleyways and they all have names

• him and raph share a bed when mikey has a bad nightmare

• stress bakes like it's a full time job and rent is due

• swears a normal amount but hardly ever uses the word fuck

• he's the best decorator and has decorated most if not all of the lair

• him and donnie watch reality tv together and their favorite is dance moms

• he's chronically on tik tok and knows numerous tik tok dances

• he loves food but has the most sensitive stomach and doesn't care

• he can't sleep without a night light

• leo reminds mikey to shower and they brush their teeth together so mikey remembers to brush

• he lives for the commercial jingles and his favorite is stanley steamer

• he hates mouth noises when people are chewing but can watch pimple popping videos while he eats

• he's fascinated with hair so he watches hair tutorials to unwind at night

[russellsppttemplates]

“Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.” after reader gets injured with any driver!

Cw: reader gets hurt accidentally (cut on her finger)

Daniel and you had a plan for the night: cooking the meal together and enjoying it with a good glass of wine while watching reruns of your favourite comedy shows.

You were cutting the bread so you could make some croutons while you were talking to your husband when your finger got caught between the knife and the bread in a tiny cut on your finger, "and then we were go- Shoot", you said grabbing a paper towell and pressing on your finger.

“Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood!", Daniel yelled, grabbing the towell for you and squeezing your finger, "Oh my goodness, how is there so much blood on your finger?", he wondered.

"There's blood on the bread", you cringed as the man rushed to your side, "are you okay?", he worried as he inspected your finger, "I think it looks worse than it is, it's like all of my blood rushed there", you nodded to the blood on the board, "can I have a band-aid, please?".

Daniel made his way out of the kitchen and returned after a brief moment with a first aid kit in hand, opening it on the kitchen island and grabbing some cotton to soak in the solution, grabbing your finger, "are you sure okay?", as he dabbed the cut, he knew it was a simple cut and in a few days it would seem like nothing happened, "I'm good, thanks handsome", you kissed his lips, "no more croutons", you pouted, throwing the bread away.

Getting band-aid from the kit, he placed it on your finger gently, "No need to apologise. I swear, Y/N, you're one of the clumsiest people I know", he shook his head, pulling you closer to him and kissing your forehead, "like the cool kids say, it is what it is", you carried on as you cleaned up and finished preparing the food.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[blamebrampton]

There are a lot of good ethical and legal reasons to be anti-AI in areas such as writing and art, but I think that we need to foreground the fact that it is shit.

It is bad.

It is boring.

The clumsiest attempt in a field you are only beginning in will have more charm and probably more wit and insight than an AI effort.

It produces the sort of generic pap that makes Stock Aitken Waterman’s heyday sound like Bach with lyrics by Leonard Cohen.

There is a place for AI in searching through huge datasets to find patterns. It’s good at that. There is no place for it in the creative or research endeavours, nor in journalism. It delivers nothing of value and takes away much of importance. Say no.

[wolfiestarzz]

poorly describing mcsm episodes: season 2 edition

1: petra and jesse find some weird shit in a cave but its okay because she’s like “i know a guy”

2: turns out its not okay! jesse gets followed home by an ancient being and has to play its fun games, like “let your intern fucking die”

3: everyone gets sent to jail because jesse doesnt take shit from ancient beings. After tortured intern goes emo, jesse becomes a victim of identity theft and places all of their trust in a mad woman

4: How The Fuck Do We Get Out Of This Cave: featuring the clumsiest ninja to have ever lived

5: jesse’s whole town is in shambles and they have to kill god to fix it

[lovebugism]

hi bug! could i have ditsy!reader with eddie with the prompt “we can put up the christmas lights tonight!”

she’s just the clumsiest bean ever and almost falling off the ladder as she leans across to hang up the lights. and eddie is just gripping onto her waist so incredibly tightly as he doesn’t want his girl to get hurt :((

just something incredibly fluffy!!

ah this is so so cute! i hope you like it :D — you, the clumsiest girl on earth, decorate the munson trailer and make a worrier out of your otherwise carefree boyfriend (ditzy!fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The trailer smells entirely of the holiday season — of vanilla and cinnamon and something somehow sweeter. It’s because Eddie’s burning a batch of sugar cookies in the oven. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters as he sits the smoking snowflake pastries on the stove. 

They’re not totally black, so that’s a plus. They may be only slightly inedible, though.

He shakes his pale hand from the oven mitt and figures he’ll have to throw them out before you get to them. He knows you’ll pretend to like them just so you don’t hurt his feelings — too sweet for your own good. 

Eddie’s contemplating this when he notices how quiet the living room has gone. The television plays a muted static, but the lack of your voice is palpable. You’re rarely ever so silent. It’s like every room you’re in glows with the sound of your voice. You only get this quiet when you’re super concentrated.

His head snaps towards the living room — not totally surprised to find you hanging up Christmas lights by yourself but still a little terrified, anyway. His chocolate eyes widen in time with his heart plummeting to his chest.

“I thought we agreed to take a break?” he shouts, rounding the kitchen counter and rushing over to you.

He plants himself in front of the couch you stand on, slightly unstable on the peeling pleather cushion. His ringed fingers are warm on either side of your hips. They clutch you tight with a worry you don’t seem to have.

You string rainbow-colored lights over Wayne’s collection of mugs, leaning over the arm of the couch to fuss with the dangling bits.

Excitement and clumsiness is a dangerous concotion when it comes to you.

“We did, but these were the last things left in the box, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them,” you explain in a tiny, faraway voice — obviously distracted. Your tongue pokes gently from your lips as you try to string lights over the last mug on the left.

“Babe, c’mon,” Eddie urges, voice wavering as his hands grip you tighter.

He doesn’t know if he’s helping as much as he thought he would, or if you feel more comfortable being less careful because you know he’d never let you fall.

Either way, he breathes out a sigh of relief when you stand upright again.

“They were looking at me funny, Eds, I swear!” you say with all your usual dramatics as you turn away from the wall to face him. You’re still standing upright on the old, rickety couch, and he’s still holding tightly onto you.

Your brows are furrowed, your doe eyes wide and twinkling with innocence, and your petaled mouth softly pouted. He couldn’t be angry with you if he tried. You’re too pretty to do anything but love on.

“I believe you, baby,” Eddie assures you with a soft, pink smile. A small chuckle spills from it as he helps you to the ground again, pale palms clutching the outsides of your elbows. 

He keeps holding you like that when you stand in front of him. He gives you a gentle squeeze there and rubs his thumbs over your skin. “Just let me know next time, alright? Before you give me a damn heart attack.”

“But I wasn’t even doing anything,” you insist, still pouting softly but only so he’ll wanna kiss you more.

He pulls you closer by your arms and makes you stumble into his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweet thing,” he murmurs lowly to you and with his lips curled into a pretty, lopsided thing.

“It’s just Christmas decorations,” you shrug in a measly voice.

Eddie gives you a hardened look made entirely of melted chocolate.

You cave immediately. 

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

His big, stupid grin returns to him. “Good,” he hums, right before bending softly down and smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth.

It’s a fleeting peck — a slotting of your lips and a leaving. You can taste the sugary icing on him, anyway. It leaves you buzzing for more when he pulls away.

“I’m gonna put some more cookies in the oven, ‘kay? Give me ten minutes, and we’ll finish decorating, alright? Together.”

He walks backward towards the kitchen. You beam in response. “I’ll go get the ladder so we can do the rest of the lights!” you offer, voice coated with excitement and sunshine.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie exclaims with a chuckle. Your smile ebbs instantly. “Wayne's ladder is older than I am, babe— you’ll definitely break your neck on that thing!”

You roll your sparkling eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a smile and shake of your head.

“I’m serious, babe,” he tells you, gentle but still stern. He tilts his chin to his chest and gives you a deep brown and serious glare. “Don’t make me fight you over this,” he cautions, still playful in his way.

Your cheek falls to your shoulder. You shoot him a teasing smile and cross your arms over your chest. “I’d still win,” you insist in a pretty little voice.

Eddie scoffs and walks the short distance back to you. “Obviously. But with the power of distraction, I’d keep you from climbing your pretty ass on that ladder, so… Who’s the real winner?”

“Still me,” you joke, smiling when he plants another kiss to your mouth.

“How about you come in the kitchen with me then, huh?” he suggests, if only to soothe his anxious heart. “You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I destroy another batch of cookies. I won’t even feel bad if you make fun of me for burning them.”

Your lips purse softly to the side as you think on his offer.

“I’ll give you a kiss for it,” Eddie blurts in attempts to persuade you.

He blinks, and your arms are wrapped around his neck — an embrace most pleasantly suffocating. He laughs softly, with his nose smushed against yours, and wraps his arms around your waist. He lets you kiss him like your life depends on it a second later.

[shujohajohaminnie]

Pink Princess

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count:2302

Summary: You and your best friend have been seeing each other a lot differently lately what happens when you’re both in a situation where you can harm your friendship? 

Afab!reader, Profanity, Public Sex, Choking, Pet names, Raw Sex. Let me know if I miss anything. 

You loved your best friend, he was the person who could cheer you up on your worst days, he was the funniest person you’ve ever met. He was your other half, but you would be lying to yourself if you said that you hadn’t found him attractive. Especially since he’s been working out, you’ve always liked bigger buffer men so seeing Seo Changbin in this new light, he was turning you on. But at this moment he was pissing you off. 

“Bin I’ve told you already no�� “But Chan and Minho can’t go they’ll be busy recording then” “Then go with Han” “Did you forget his arm’s broken”. Ah yes, the clumsiest and least athletic of the group was yet again injured from a sport-related event. “You have four other members you could bug” “I don’t want them I want you” he stopped in his tracks clearing his throat. “I mean I want to go to the gym with you, come on. The workout will be good” “I already do my own workouts thank you very much”. You rolled your eyes taking the empty plate from his grasp to wash it. “Oh yeah, what” He smirked leaning against the counter next to you watching you.. “Pilates… 5 days a week”  “Really pilates… that's just a fancy word for yoga, that's not effective” “I beg to differ” “It’s the truth” “Okay well if it’s just yoga and it’s not effective then let's bet on it, tomorrow you do pilates with me if you don’t feel worked out then and only then will I go to the gym with you on Friday” “Nope” “Why”  You smirked drying your hands as you looked at him. “Scared you can’t keep up” “I can keep up” He said walking away from the kitchen, now it was you following him. You trailed behind him to his bedroom throwing yourself on the bed like you always did. “Come on Binnie… you scared” “No” “The lets do it” “Fine, but promise if I don’t like it we’re going to the gym on Friday” “Pinky Promise”. He rolled his eyes shaking his head as he took your pinky with his sealing the deal. “Deal” 

“See you tomorrow princess”  

The real reason you didn’t want to go to the gym with him was because the last time you did you could stop looking at the way his arms looked in his muscle shirt. The way his muscles looked while bringing up and down the weight. The way his hips thrust up the barbell with the fascinating amount of weights. You were squeezing your thighs together the whole time, you could barely even work out. It made your mind drift. Could he fuck you like that, how would he look on top of you. You held your vibrator on your clit at the thought of him, this felt so wrong, he was your best friend. You shouldn’t be thinking of him like this. You were snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your doorbell ringing. SHIT. You weren’t even ready. You ran to the door letting Changbin in, completely forgetting your current outfit. You were in one of his shirts he lent you a long time ago, it fit you like a dress, a lot of his clothes fit you like that. Underneath you were wearing a black thong, it was your typical loungewear for when you were alone at home. But he didn’t know that.

“Did you forget?” He asked kicking off his shoes and closing the door. “N-no… I was just distracted” You laughed closing your bedroom door quickly before he could see your dildo and vibrator on your bed. Before he could see what you were really doing moments before he showed up. “You feeling okay” He laughed putting his hand on your forehead feeling for a fever. “Mhmm, you uh” You put your hands on his arms leading him to your couch. “You wait here and I’ll get ready fast… just give me a second”. You quickly ran to your room putting on black leggings and a matching sports bra. You put on a loose khaki shirt and quickly put on your black Converse. You ran out of your room to your bathroom to fix your hair into a ponytail and apply a little bit of makeup. “Why are you putting on makeup” Changbin laughed walking over to you. “You have the hots for the teacher or something” “We actually have the place to ourselves, The owner is a friend of mine, and I asked her if we could go in after hours, just so you could have your privacy you know”. He looked at you and smiled, he felt a slight blush start to form on his face at your consideration for him and his comfort. “Okay, I’m ready let's go!” You smiled taking his hand and leading him out of your apartment before he could ask any more questions. 

The car ride was quiet, which was pretty usual since you were best friends with the loudest person ever. What was he thinking? You hadn’t noticed but when Changbin walked into your apartment he got a clear sight of your bedroom and your bed. He noticed the bright purple dildo resting on your sheets. Were you thinking of him, and why would you do that in his shirt? Why were you putting on makeup if it was just the two of you? Did you like him too? No, you couldn’t have. 

You lead him to the front door unlocking it and turning on the light. You cringed at the harsh lighting. You never noticed how bright those lights were. When you’d came to class it was during the day and the teacher always made sure to open the blinds to let in natural light to fill the space. You quickly turned the lights back off, turning on your flashlight to look around for the control of the LED lights you knew she had. After what seemed like forever you found it. “What color should I pick” “Anything” “Well since you’re a special guest I’ll put pink” You giggled pushing the pink color, with the new lighting you saw Changbin already looking at you. You felt nervous. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Okay” You broke the silence, quickly you slipped off your shirt placing it on top of your bag in the corner. You made your way to the middle of the room. “We usually use these big heavy machines but they’re already put away and I don’t wanna haul them out myself”  “Well I could help you” “Nah it’s okay… since it’s your first pilates class we’ll ease you into it was the modified versions of the workouts we do” “Modified huh” he chuckled joining you in the middle of the room looking at your thorough the mirror. “Go queens” he laughed looking at the neon sign that was hanging on the wall behind you. “Yeah… uh it’s an all-girl pilates building so you’re really special to be having a class here” There you go again calling him special, did you mean it?

“Okay so next is gonna be money stretches” “Monkey what” “Monkey stretches usually on the machine we use I’d lay down on my back and then there’s this bar where you put your feet on and what you have to do is raise yourself kinda to raise the bar with your feet, but even I think it’s complicated and I’ve been doing this for months sooooo were going to do the easy version.” Changbin couldn’t lie, he was beat with what you were putting him through, he didn’t realize that pilates took a lot of core strength, and you were only doing the modified version. “You're going to stand on this little box but with only half your foot actually on it... You’re gonna bend over forward and then this other box is gonna be under your hands to level you with your feet. The whole purpose is that you go on your tip toes and extend... you should feel a stretch on your calf... but don't bend your knees at all”  “Yeah you’re gonna need to show me cause I don't know what the fuck you're talking about” “Ugh Binnie” you rolled your eyes demonstrating for him... he looked at you, an idea popping into his head. “I'm gonna check your form” “You’re gonna check my form puh-” You stopped feeling something against your ass... something hard. “B-Bin…” “Yes, princess?” “If you wanted to fuck me all you had to do was ask” That’s all he needed to hear. In a swift movement, he pulled down your leggings and panties, not wasting any time to ram into you. You moaned, your jaw dropping at the fullness and stretch you were feeling. You weren’t dumb, you knew he was going to be big. But you didn’t think he’d be this big. He held you by your waist, throwing his head back. This was better than his hand, this was better than his imagination this was better than his dreams. You felt perfect around him. 

You rutted against him interlocking your fingers with his as you stood up, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the new position. “F-fuck… don’t don't move… wait” He moaned, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to last long, not with the way you had been teasing him this entire time, doing stretches like downward dog, getting on your back and spreading your legs wide to ‘stretch’. You were in all the positions he only dreamed of putting you in. “B-Binnie… please” You whined trying to move against this hold on you. He slipped off your sports bra freeing your tits, and without warning he put a hand on your throat, his other going straight for your clit. He thrusted into you while his hold around your neck only tightened. You had mentioned to him before that you had always wanted to try choking but couldn’t find someone you trusted well enough. Granted you were both stoned as fuck and doubted that he would even remember that. “Say pink if you want me to stop” He grunted picking up speed on both your clit and his thrusts into you. The space around you filled with both of your pornographic moans and groans, grunts and whines. “B-Binnie… you fuck me so good” You mumbled against his restraints. He moaned at your praises sliding into you harder stroking that one sweet spot. “Fuck Binnie no one's ever fucked me this good” “Fuck Y/n” he moved faster tightening his hold on your waist digging his nails into your exposed skin. He wasn’t doing it intentionally, you know Changbin would never hurt you, But man did the sting feel good. You started to tighten around him, a sign that you were close, and the way you were praising him he wasn’t far off. He let go of his grasp on your neck. You took a deep breath your head spinning from the sudden access to air. His now free hand went down to your lower stomach applying the slightest pressure, driving you absolutely insane. You moaned your head rolling back as you came undone on his cock. He quickly pulled out cumming on your back and ass. He might've been in love with you, but he wanted some time with you alone before bringing any children into the world. 

You fell to your knees your hand going to your chest, helping you regulate your breathing. He sat next to you watching you intensely. You weren’t lying to him when you said he was the best sex you’ve ever had, no one has ever been able to make you feel the way your best friend just did. Best friend. Shit, this could’ve ruined your relationship, he probably doesn’t like you, and you’d have to end something that was great just because you wanted him so-. “Y/n… I uh. I like you, like a lot, and I know we’re friends but I want to be with you, like a boyfriend. I want to take you out, and not to just have sex with you, because it was great but I-” You cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing his lips. You couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to express the happiness you were feeling in words, you had to show him. “Is that a yes?” He mumbled against your lips looking at you with pleading eyes. “Yes” You laughed nodding your head with a smile. “Yes I’ll be your girlfriend” “Good because I want my girlfriend with me at the gym on Friday” “Excuse me sir but you look pretty worn out right now the deal was-” “The deal was that if the pilates-” “Sorry to break it to you hon but we’re in a pilates studio soooo” “I should do pilates with you more often then” 

You groaned turning over to avoid the sun seeping into the room through the blinds. Looking to your side you saw your handsome boyfriend sleeping peacefully. After you two went back to your apartment you both went at it like bunnies after he asked you to show him what exactly you were doing before he showed up to pick you up. You grabbed your phone off the nightstand wanting to see what time it was when you froze. “No fucking way” 

[pforpedro]

TWIN FLAME

Joel Miller x Reader

WARNINGS: Smut! (No spoilers), 18+ content, Reader is aged up, Joel being a protective dad, rough Joel with a hint of softness, not proofread, MINORS DNI.

SUMMARY: [SET PRE APOCALYPSE, Joel is 36, reader is 25] Joel thinks he’s got the hold over you, the upper hand for sure, that is until you challenge him and he discovers maybe he’s met his match.

Silence.

Is what Joel Miller craved for in the early hours of Tuesday morning. Birds sung loudly by the window sill, the sounds of voices flowing through the halls and squeezing between the crack in his bedroom door. He craved for just five more minutes.

“Daaaaaad!”

He grunted softly, burrowing his head deep into the pillow.

“Daaaad! Breakfast is ready!” Sarah called from the kitchen, followed by giggles and the crash of a frying pan hitting the porcelain floor tiling.

“Oh, shit!” You jumped backwards as pancake mixture splashed everywhere, splatters of liquid landing on your sheer tights.

“You’re literally the clumsiest person I know,” Sarah sighed, grabbing a cloth from the counter top and throwing it at you. You stuck out your tongue in dismay before crouching down and mopping up the liquid with the rag.

“He rises!” Sarah called, her voice following the footsteps that assented into the kitchen.

“Who you talkin’ to?”

“That would be me,” you smiled sheepishly, reaching a hand out above the counter top and waving towards the stairway while you continued to clean the residue seeping into the cracks between the tiles, “hey I hope you don’t mind but I think I broke your frying pan?”

“What, the third one this month?” Joel sighed, joking, but equally unamused.

“At least Y/N wakes up on time to make pancakes, for you might I add,” Sarah swatted her dads shoulder playfully as he took a seat at the small table just outside the kitchen.

“Ain’t you supposed to be at work?” Joel quizzed from the table, reaching out the grasp an apple from the fruit bowl as he flicked open the newspaper.

Your head popped up from behind the counter, tossing the rag into the sink and peering over at the older male, “ain’t you old enough to work an alarm?” You smirked playfully, “yeah, no, Zena is covering my shift this morning.”

“Why?” Joel pushed, biting down into the rosy apple clasped between his fingers.

“Never you mind,” you swooned, stepping out from behind the counter. His eyes fell to you like a sack of sugar, scanning you up and down. Your legs were laced in sheer black tights, hips sporting some high rise black torn shorts, oversized shirt which tied in the middle with ‘The Exorcist’ logo panning across the chest.

“Take a picture, it might last longer,” Sarah mumbled beneath her breath as she nudged her dads shoulder playfully, earning a glare from him. Sarah had soon caught on to her fathers not so subtle crush on you, and she figured the feelings were mutual considering the way you spoke to one another. Teasing, sometimes not so playfully. You were like an older sister to Sarah, so albeit it seemed a little strange, it was also funny watching the way you interacted with one another.

“C’mon, I’ll drop you off at school, pick you a breakfast bagel up on the way,” you raised your brows as you checked the clock, glancing over at Sarah and tilting your head slightly.

“Uh, uh, no way,” Joel protested, standing from the small round table, “you’re not getting on the back of that thing, I already told you that.”

“She has a spare helmet?” Sarah argued, gesturing towards you standing by the coat wrack.

“I already told you, no. No motorcycles.”

“Oh, c’mon old man, I know you’ve sported at least one in your lifetime,” you teased, folding your arms across your chest. He turned to you with a hardened stare, asking you as politely as he could muster not to push this further.

Sarah sighed, knowing there was no part arguing with him. Once he had his mind set, it was like pulling a sword from stone.

“You can take the bus, I’ll give you cash,” he spoke as he dug his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill.

“I got it,” you planted your hand on the table, sliding another five dollar bill across the fine wood, “covers the frying fan,” you scrunched your nose as you turned to Joel, seeing his expression fall as you smiled.

“Alright, fine,” he deducted the green note in his hand, tucking it back into his pocket, “c’mon you’re gonna be late,” he swiped his brow, ushering Sarah towards the door as he checked the time.

You made your way back into the kitchen whilst they said their goodbyes, picking up the rag in the kitchen sink and running the tap over it leisurely, watching as the pancake mix slowly began to run clean off the rag and down the sink hole.

You hadn’t heard the door close, the sound of the water hitting the basin of the sink drowning out the sounds around you, so when two firm hands caged you in against the kitchen counter your breath hitched suddenly. You flicked off the tap, relaxing as your senses were filled with Joel, his scent consuming you entirely.

“Can I help you with something?” You smirked devilishly, teasing him as you turned your head over your shoulder, catching his hooded eyes glaring at you. His hand snaked around your hip delicately, mapping out each curve carefully as his finger pads slid between your thighs.

This was something you had been longing for, and you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You’d been teasing Joel for the last few weeks just waiting for him to break, each time becoming a little more promiscuous. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he finally caved, but he held out strong. You weren’t sure why today was the day, but you weren’t complaining.

“You think you’re fuckin’ smart? Teasing me like that?” His voice was deep and gruff, breath hot as it fanned against the crook in your neck, his nose bumping your jaw as he placed it there carefully. You were yet to see this side of Joel, usually so loving and fatherly. This deepens, dark, dominant side made your skin shiver with excitement.

You bit your lip with a smile, cocking your brow as you spun in his embrace to face him, hands resting back against the counter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your smirk drove him crazy, feeling the warmth of your hand slither between your bodies that were practically pressed together, groping his hardening length that pulsed hard behind his jeans, “but I think whatever it was… worked.”

If anything, you had this coming. You’d had your eyes on Joel for the last few months and you’d made that clear. Yes, he was your best friend going on younger sisters dad, but the heart wants what it wants, and the moment you caught his eyes staring you knew you had it in the bag.

He grasped your hips harshly, turning your back to face him, “you gonna act like a slut I’m gonna fuckin’ treat you like one.”

The sound of your shorts tearing made your heart skip a beat, his rough hands palming the plump of your ass cheek through your tights as he pressed his cock against you.

“Those where my favourite shorts,” you cursed, feeling the material drop to your feet as you took a step back, spinning on your heels and lacing your arm around his neck as you stepped into his space, drawing him out until his back slammed against the fridge, “you’re gonna pay for that.”

“Make me,” he groaned, lunging forward and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was heated from the get go, tongues fighting for dominance as his hand snaked down, hiking your thigh over his hip, your toes pressing into the cold metal of the fridge door as he ripped oxygen from your lungs.

All the pent up energy of longing looks, bending over a little too far whenever he was around, leaning against the doorframe so you could see the way his top rode just far enough up his torso to reveal the lining of his boxers was pouring into your lips. This wasn’t passion, this was desperation. This wasn’t want, this was need.

Your hand grasped his hair forcefully, fingers interlocking with his loose curls and tugging without mercy. He groaned softly at the sudden pain in his scalp, chin tilting to the ceiling as you held him there, licking a bold stripe up the length of his throat making him shiver.

Finally, someone who knew how to have a little fun.

You weren’t afraid to make those moves, because you knew travelling south, he was already mewling droplets of pre cum for you. You loosened your grip as you retracted your tongue into the warmth of your mouth, locking eyes with Joel as he dropped his chin back down to face you, “upstairs. Now.”

You stumbled up the steps as Joel tagged hot on your heels, kissing your neck fiercely as you breached the doorway. His large hands clasped the backs of your thighs, pulling you clean off your feet and laying you down against the mattress. You watched closely, chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tore off his shirt, tossing it down by the side of the bed and made quick work of his belt.

“Wait,” you leaned upwards quickly before he could discard the leather strap to the comfort of the carpet. Lacing your fingers around it delicately you peered up through lust filled eyes, “tie me up.”

“Fuck, you little slut,” he groaned, grasping the back of your hair and tugging harshly eliciting a strong gasp from the back of your throat. The pain was almost pleasurable as he held you there without menace, looking down at you with a sickening smirk.

“Dirty thing, aren’t you?” He hummed, “hands, now.”

You raised your hands before you as he released the grip on your head. Wrapping the leather around your wrists set your heart on fire, watching as he calculated the amount of times it swirled around before buckling it shut and tugging harshly, making sure it was secured in place.

“You haven’t even undressed me yet,” you smirked, brow ticking upwards slightly as he looked at you in realisation.

“Fuck it,” he groaned, grasping you by the hips and throwing you backwards. You adored the way he man handled you. Crawling above you slowly, he looked as though he was sent from above. So beautiful, sexy and delicate, yet hot and writhing with lust at the same time.

After hovering above you for a moment he sat to attention, thumbs sliding between the gap of his jeans and V line, slowly beginning to glide them down his muscular legs. You watched in awe as his cock sprang free, veins protruding, tip an angry red as it weeped his heavenly seed.

Your mouth ran dry, clit pulsing. You thought it was enough to make you cum on the spot. That was until he began touching himself, wrapping his bold fingers around the base and pumping slowly.

“Jesus, Joel,” you whimpered, rubbing your thighs together to try and gain some kind of friction. He tsk’d at your poor attempt to relieve the pressure gaining between your legs, chuckling lowly as his hands dropped from his cock to your legs. You jumped at the sudden touch, raising your arms above your head.

“That’s it, princess,” he smirked. His idle fingers graced you delicately, panning their route from your hip bone down to your heated thighs, “no underwear… dirty girl,” his breathing fell shallow at the faint scent of your arousal beginning to consume his senses.

“Please, Joel,” you whispered, lightly bucking your hips to him, begging for attention. He hooked his finger deep into the material of your rights and began tugging, shredding the material to gain access to your pulsing clit.

“Don’t hold back,” he breathed softly catching your attention. Before you could question his words he licked a bold, solid stripe up the length of your heat, watching your head fall back against the mattress, spine arching in ecstasy. The sounds you made only drove him on, collecting your arousal on his tongue to taste you in full.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned, large hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as he raised them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to his mouth. All the while he bathed in the pool of your rich taste, his hips had began to grind against the fabric of the quilt covering the mattress in a helpless attempt to relieve the pressure.

“Joel!” You squealed as his nose bumped your clit, the tip of his tongue swirling your hole in the process.

“Joel- Joel!” The hollow in your tone snatched his actions to a halt, sensing the way your stomach began to clench and hands fondled with the bed sheets that you were gaining on your orgasm.

“Asshole!” You cursed, raising your head from the mattress to see him smirking at you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“That’s no way to speak to me now, is it? After everything I’ve just given you,” without breaking eye contact he lowered his hands, grasping your thighs and tugging you close, “after everything I’m about to give to you,” he continued, suddenly feeling his tip at your entrance which had your teeth gnawing into your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you chanted with desperation, legs squirming in his grasp, “please, Joel, please-“

“Please what?”

“Fuck me!” You gasped, digging your heels down to pull him closer. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt his tip spread you wide, filling you inch by inch at a steady pace without halt despite your screams.

“Fuckin’ christ, Y/N,” he whimpered, your name sounding like heaven as it rolled off his tongue, “so fucking tight, so wet… so warm.”

“All for you, Joel,” you panted weakly, clenching around him making him wince. Not a second passed that he allowed you to adjust before he set a brutal pace, fucking into you without mercy. If it was desperation before you weren’t quite sure what to call this.

It was rough, your lungs burned from the screams that tore from your throat as you took everything he gave to you. He railed you without mercy, hips slamming into your core, tip working to rearrange the position of your organs. The sound of skin on skin filled the entirety of the house and you knew there was a possibility the whole neighbourhood could hear his name rolling off the tip of your tongue. He was needy, desperate but all the while managing to keep up the pace, never once letting slip. He pulsed as he rocked, grasping handfuls of flesh in a desperate plea to pull you closer, optimising for the ultimate option of holding you chest to chest.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as he continued the brutal pace, breasts bouncing in unison to his thrusts. To the sudden taste of drawn blood you heard him curse, his cock delving deep into your core as he neared his end to the finish line.

“S-slow down,” you whimpered, “this doesn’t have to end, n-not yet,” you begged, not wanting the sensation of his cock deep inside you to dissipate within a moments notice. You’d craved this feeling for so long and you knew he felt the same.

“You’re too good for me,” he groaned, rolling his hips just as hard, but slowing in pace, “don’t know how badly I wanna f-fill you up,” he turned to face you as he spoke, eyes drifting down to your plump lips smothered in crimson.

“You’re bleeding,” he swallowed, “your lip, it’s bleeding.”

“Don’t go soft on me now,” you smirked breathlessly as the soft underbelly of his nature crawled through the cracks. He smiled softly, bringing his spare hand to your lip as he stilled within you, resting his length inside your core as the pad of his thumb drew softly against the indent in your lower lip.

You watched with shimmery eyes as he wiped the blood away, locking onto your iris with his own as he held you tight. You could suddenly feel the heat as it rushed to your cheeks, the vulnerability shining through. There were no words that were spoken as you felt the absence of need, just his soft lips on yours. The wound stung from a moment as his saliva mixed with your own, but then the passion sank in.

He lowered you softly as his kisses deepened and the pace of his thrusts turned soft, loving you in a subtle sort of way. His hands reached upwards slowly, pulling away from your lips to release you from your leather chains. Your wrists were sore from friction, but where erased upon feeling the softness of his cheeks against the palm of your hand.

The slam of a door suddenly echoed through the home, making your heart slam against your rib cage.

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice rang clear from the kitchen. Your eyes sprung wide, fighting against one another to pull away from your grip.

“Stay here,” Joel demanded as he grasped his jeans from the floor and departed out into the hallway in a hurry, straightening out his unruly hair as he paced, slamming the door behind him.

Breathless, you sat on the bed, covering yourself with a pillow and a dumb, childish smile came to your cheeks. As stupid as it was and as surreal as this all seemed, you had gained confirmation that the magic you had worked to win Joel Millers attention had worked.

Who’s to say it wouldn’t work again in the future?

This story was yet to be finished, and you couldn’t wait to read those final pages.