#Custom Homes New York
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Custom Homes New York: Crafting Your Dream Home
Are you envisioning a home that reflects your unique style and preferences? Look no further than Custom Homes New York! Building a custom home allows you to create a living space tailored to your needs, blending luxury with functionality. In this blog post, we’ll explore the advantages of choosing a custom home in the vibrant city of New York.
“Building a sustainable future, one Green Origin Home at a time – where eco-friendly design meets the art of luxurious living.”
Personalization and Uniqueness:
When it comes to custom homes New York, the possibilities are endless. From the layout to the finishes, you have the freedom to personalize every aspect of your home. Embrace your creativity and work with architects and designers to bring your vision to life. Your home will stand out as a unique masterpiece in the diverse cityscape of New York. Explore Green Origin Homes’ exquisite models for your dream home.
Location Matters:
New York City is a mosaic of neighborhoods, each with its own charm. Choosing to build a custom home allows you to select the perfect location that suits your lifestyle. Whether you prefer the bustling energy of Manhattan or the tranquility of the suburbs, your dream home can be nestled in the ideal spot.
Energy Efficiency and Sustainability:
The city that never sleeps is also at the forefront of green living. Custom homes in New York City embrace energy efficiency and sustainability, aligning with the city’s commitment to environmental consciousness. From solar panels to energy-efficient appliances, you can contribute to a greener future while enjoying lower utility bills.
Smart Home Technology:
Stay ahead of the curve with smart home technology integrated into your custom build. From security systems to automated lighting, you can create a home that is not only stylish but also equipped with the latest advancements in technology. New York’s fast-paced lifestyle meets cutting-edge innovation in your custom home.
Here Is The Process Of How We’ll Help You Design Your Dream Home
Navigating Zoning and Regulations:
Building a custom home in New York involves navigating zoning regulations and building codes. Work with experienced professionals who understand the local requirements to ensure a smooth construction process. From permits to compliance, a well-informed team will guide you through the bureaucratic maze.
Conclusion:
Investing in a custom home in New York is a decision that promises a residence as unique as the city itself. From personalized designs to sustainable features, your dream home awaits. Embrace the opportunity to build a living space that reflects your style and enhances your lifestyle in the heart of the Big Apple.
Remember, the journey to your custom home starts with a vision and the right team to bring it to life. Explore the possibilities and embark on a journey to a home that is truly yours in every sense.
Ready to work with the best panelized home kit builders in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut?
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Find the Best Commercial Interior Designer for Your Office
The way you design and decorate an interior space will dramatically influence how your clients and workers view your company. Taking that into consideration, working with Tampa Bay architects who are experts in interior design is sure to help you find the best company to work with. In this article, we'll cover a few considerations you need to make while searching for a professional interior design firm.
Good Track Record The best way to assess whether a company is successful or not is to look into its past, achievements, activities, and relations with its clients. By reading their website reviews on the services offered, you can have a general idea of their dependability. Reasonable Prices In addition to the architectural design in Tampa that will suit your taste, you need to figure out if they can stay within the project budget and get your space within your time and budget limits. You should lay down some budget goals and restrictions, including how much you're willing to spend. Communication It will be much easier to work in unison if you work with a designer who will communicate with you on all things concerning your future space and business. Prepare your questions regarding the commercial interior designer to ask each candidate and make your judgments based on your judgment and interactions with them.
High-Class Services However, while the outcome of your office design would be your top priority, you must collaborate with an interior design firm that can offer you a stress-free and less disruptive approach for your business since such projects take a couple of months to complete. You can fasten the process and ensure cohesiveness between your design partner and your brand by assigning one of your team members who has the requisite skills to oversee the construction and budget. Conclusion The key initial activity to design an office that fosters employee morale, enhances productivity, and supports the character of your brand is to identify the best commercial interior design company. For this purpose, finding Tampa Bay architects who meet your needs and help make your vision a reality can be achieved by considering such factors as experience, the design process, and budget management. This is how, with the aid of a few very skilled designers, you can create an office space which is customised, sustainable, and future-proof for the benefit of your company in many years to come.
#interior designer boston ma#interior designers in massachusetts#boston interior designers#interior designer tampa florida#custom home design tampa#interior design company boston ma#boston ma interior design#architecture firms boston ma#modern luxury interiors new york
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Oh, hoppy day! Get ready for National Beer Day on April 7 with amazing deals from your favorite restaurants and bars. Whether you're into lagers, stouts, or IPAs, these promotions will have you cheering. Discover the best beer deals and exclusive offers in our latest article. Cheers to great beer and even better savings!
#Cheers!#Oh#hoppy day! Whether you prefer lager#stout#pilsner or IPAs#brew lovers can all agree that National Beer Day is a cause for celebration. The drink-devoted holiday falls on Sunday#April 7#and many restaurants and bars are brewing up deals to mark the special occasion. Here are a few that'll leave you saying#ANTHONY’S COAL FIRED PIZZA & WINGS On National Beer Day#Anthony’s Coal Fired Pizza & Wings is offering dine-in customers a 12-inch cheese pizza and draft beer for just $15. To cash in on the deal#simply mention the offer at the register at participating locations. BUFFALO WILD WINGS What goes better with wings than beer? To celebrate#Buffalo Wild Wings is pouring 22-ounce glasses of Coors Light for $5 all day. BURGERFI BurgerFi is offering dine-in customers a cheeseburge#City Brew Tours is offering customers 10% off its in-person City Brew Tours (they operate in 20 cities in the U.S.)#the Beer of the Month Club (it features a new craft beer city every month delivered to your home) and Holiday Advent Beer Boxes. Simply use#you'll get a free shower beer holder and a bar of Dogfish Head beer soap (customers will need to pay the cost of shipping). Simply use the#you'll get upgraded to a liter at the following participating locations. * Arizona: Tempe * California: Alhambra#Long Beach#North Burbank#Old Pasadena * Colorado: Colorado Springs * Maryland: Bethesda#Dupont#Kentlands#Silver Spring * New York: Clifton Park * Texas: Arlington Highlands#Frisco#Richardson * Wisconsin: Ballpark Commons GOURMETGIFTBASKETS When it comes to beer#variety is always best and GourmetGiftBaskets.com has plenty of gift baskets with several types of beer. The site is offering TODAY.com rea#including a beer club. The site is currently running the following sale#just in time for National Beer Day: * $10 off any 4-shipment order with the code SAVE10 * $15 off any prepaid 6-shipment order with the cod#Mr Brews is serving up $8 beer flights and other daily promotions to help brew lovers celebrate National Beer Day. RAZZOO’S CAJUN CAFE On A#Razzoo’s Cajun Cafe is serving draft beer for $4 a pint and $6 a mug. SAMUEL ADAMS Samuel Adams has a special offer for TODAY.com readers!#it does now. Tombstone and Voodoo Ranger have teamed up to create I(Pizza)A
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Unwind and relax with seating that is both comfortable and charming for any outdoor setting
At Muretti, you will find a team of skilled and knowledgeable professionals providing a range of specialized services in interior design in New York. Our specialists bring extensive training and expertise to the table, assuring a personalized and thorough approach to match your specific needs.
GET IN TOUCH
Muretti New York Showroom: Italian Kitchens & Closets 134 W 25th St New York, NY, 10001 (212) 457-1355 https://www.muretti.com/
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Kaya Homes NY - Real Estate Marketplace
Kaya Homes is your ultimate gateway to the dynamic world of residential real estate in Long Island, Hewlett, East Rockaway, Lynbrook, and Oceanside. Whether you're actively searching to buy or sell house in these areas or exploring the enticing homes for-sale market, our dedicated real estate marketplace has you covered. With a commitment to catering to a wide spectrum of preferences, we offer an extensive range of properties that align with your distinct needs and aspirations.
These areas are known for their beautiful housing opportunities, and at Kaya Homes, we take pride in connecting you with the very best of them. Whether you're actively searching to buy or sell house or are drawn to the unique charm of homes in Hewlett, East Rockaway, Lynbrook, or Oceanside, our team of seasoned real estate experts ensures that you gain access to the most exceptional residential properties in the region.
When you are ready to embark on your journey to purchase a house in Long Island, Hewlett, East Rockaway, Lynbrook, or Oceanside, you can trust Kaya Homes to be your unwavering guide and partner in navigating the thriving and dynamic residential real estate market. Experience the difference with Kaya Homes and make your residential real estate dreams in these areas a reality.
#affordable homes#buy homes#buy house#cheap old homes#custom homes#real estate#homes#real estate experts in new york
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Construction Project Management York Maine
"Experience Excellence in Construction Project Management, York, Maine. Seawood Enterprises ensures seamless project execution, on-time delivery, and cost-effectiveness, making your construction journey stress-free. With meticulous planning and a skilled team, we handle every aspect of your project efficiently. Trust us to turn your vision into a reality. #ConstructionManagement #YorkMaine #SeawoodEnterprises"
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Construction Project Management York Maine
"Experience Excellence in Construction Project Management, York, Maine. Seawood Enterprises ensures seamless project execution, on-time delivery, and cost-effectiveness, making your construction journey stress-free. With meticulous planning and a skilled team, we handle every aspect of your project efficiently. Trust us to turn your vision into a reality. #ConstructionManagement #YorkMaine #SeawoodEnterprises"
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#Construction Project Management York Maine#Custom Builder Wells Maine#New Custom Home Construction York Maine
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Multiuse - Craftsman Laundry Room Utility room idea with a medium-sized craftsman ceramic tile floor, shaker cabinets, beige walls, and a side-by-side washer and dryer.
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Exterior Siding in New York An illustration of a mid-sized arts and crafts-style gray, one-story mixed siding house with a shingle roof
#central new york#new home construction#exterior#real estate#siding#home builder#cromp custom builders
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Long distance girlfriend surprising Rafe
Request: Reader going to college on the east coast and being stuck there because of snow + Rafe being sad
—
‘’Thank you for choosing Cameron Development for your project, Mr. Phillips. Our secretary will email the documents shortly,’’ Rafe said in his polished, customer-service tone. ‘’Happy holidays.’’
The second the call ended, his forced smile vanished, leaving his face set in a grim scowl. He’s never been a fan of Christmas, but for the first time, he had been looking forward to it — his first Christmas with you. But that changed when a snowstorm hit the East Coast, forcing all flights in New York to get cancelled.
Rafe leaned back in his leather office chair, running a hand through his buzzed hair in frustration. It was only 3pm, but he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was you, alone in your apartment in New York, and most importantly, miles away from him. He thought of driving to you, but Topper resonated with him. If flights were cancelled, some roads would be closed too.
Why must you go to college so far away? With a sigh, Rafe picked up his personal phone for the tenth time today, and re-reading your last message. He was hurting himself by doing this, but reading your message also brought him some comfort.
I’m so sorry I can’t make it to you, baby 😢💔 I’ve been keeping track of the flights, but everything is still cancelled… This snow really wants to sabotage our first Christmas! 😠 In case nothing changes, I’m gonna video-call you on Christmas morning…in my sexy lingerie set I got just for you. Wish you were there to unwrap me 🎁🤭
Before he could finish reading, Wheezie’s face filled his screen with an incoming call.
‘’Wheezie? Why are you calling me?’’ Rafe frowned, leaning back in his chair. She never called him at work unless it was important.
‘’Rafe! Thank god you picked up! I tried calling Sarah, but she didn’t answer.’’ Wheezie's voice was high-pitched and panicked, words spilling out in a rush.
‘’Wheezie, what is it?’’ he asked.
‘’I tried making gingerbread cookies, but I guess I left them in for too long...’’
Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on. ‘’Just throw them out if they’re burned. It’s not worth breaking a tooth over.’’
‘’No, you don’t understand,’’ she cried, her voice breaking slightly. ‘’There’s smoke all over the kitchen!’’ A coughing fit punctuated her sentence, and Rafe’s heart dropped.
‘’What? Wheeze, are you okay?’’
He was already standing, grabbing his keys. Fuck work.
‘’Can you come home? Please, Rafe. Dad is gonna be so mad if I burn the house down—’’
He didn’t even wait to hang up properly before he was out the door. ‘’I’m coming, Wheeze. Just, stay away from the oven, okay? And get outside if it gets worse. Do you hear me?’’ Rafe’s tone sharpened, his protective instincts kicking in.
Rafe pulled into the driveway of Tannyhill, tires screeching as he parked quickly. His jaw was tight, still on edge from Wheezie’s frantic call. The house seemed calm from the outside, which was strange because she said there was smoke all over the kitchen.
He opened the front door. “Wheezie?” he called out, stepping into the house, his eyes scanning for signs of smoke. ‘’Wheezie, I’m here. Where’s the damn smoke you talked about?’’
The kitchen light was on, and as he stepped closer, his stomach dropped. Instead of finding his little sister panicking, he found you standing in the middle of the kitchen, grinning at him.
‘’Hi.’’
For a split second, neither of you moved. Then, you ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him. Rafe’s brain scrambled to catch up. Then it clicked. The familiar scent of your shampoo, the warmth of your arms — it was really you. His arms locked around your waist like he was afraid you might disappear, and you buried your face in his chest, clutching him like you’d never let go.
‘’What the—’’ He pulled back just enough to grab your face, his blue eyes searching yours, wide with disbelief. ‘’You’re here? Really here?’’
‘’Surprise, baby,’’ you murmured before pressing your lips to his, cutting off whatever string of disbelief he was about to voice again.
The kiss was soft at first, but as the realization sank in, Rafe pulled you closer, deepening it, one hand sliding to your back while the other tangled in your hair. It was desperate and relieved, like he couldn’t believe you were actually there, standing in his kitchen, and not miles away in New York.
He hadn’t seen you since his weekend visit for Thanksgiving, he couldn’t settle with a peck.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, faces inches apart.
Rafe’s forehead pressed against yours. ‘’But you were in New York. The flights—’’ He blinked, still trying to process, his grip on your waist tightening. ‘’How are you here? I mean…what—? Wheezie called me about some fire in the kitchen.’’ He glanced around, half-expecting his sister to pop out from somewhere.
You laughed, guilt flickering across your face. ‘’Yeah, that was her idea. There’s no fire. I told her to find something to make you come home. It worked, didn’t it?’’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘’She knew about you coming here and didn’t tell me?!’’
You nodded. Flights being cancelled was not a lie, but you were able to take a train to another state — where the snow was not as bad —, and take a flight there. You texted Wheezie during your flight, asking for help to surprise Rafe. Why would she not help the girl who brought smiles on her brother’s moody face?
‘’Sorry, baby.’’ You looked up and rubbed your hands over his work button up, feeling the planes of his muscled chest and the warmth of his skin underneath. ‘’I just… I couldn’t stand hearing how sad you sounded yesterday. I had to get here, I tried everything in my power to get to you. Don’t be mad at her, okay? She just wanted to help me.’’
Rafe shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you close as he tilted his head. ‘’You’re lucky I love you,’’ he murmured, his voice absentmindedly falling into your relationship bubble where it was just you and him.
You stayed like that for a moment, bathing in each other’s embrace, until a thought crossed your mind. ‘’Rafe? There’s one other thing I need to tell you: I left your Christmas present in New York…’’ You pulled back, guilt filling you again as you continued and explained yourself. ‘’It was on the table so I wouldn’t forget it, but—’’
But Rafe couldn't care less.
‘’That’s okay. There’s only you on my wishlist anyway.’’
—
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction
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≛ THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE!
❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞
♪ ˚. THE BRAT CHALLENGE ♱ ⋆.˚
feat. drummer!abby x fem!reader x footballplayer!ellie
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: switch!abby (kinda), jealousy, cheating, abby’s pierced nipples, reader desc. feminine, fingering, munch activities, toxicity ensuing, voyerisum, strap sex.
THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE, ellie williams, sporting 88’ on the back of her jersey, the world renowned football player from the united states. the overly competitive blood runs through her veins, passed down from her father, just as well as an overpowering ego the size of texas. she has the girl of her dreams, the most important game of her life in sight, but what happens when one drummer threatens to wreck it all?
wc. 10k
It’s easy to feel safe and comfortable with her, slipping into a simple life. Traveling the world with your favorite soccer player, the auburn-haired five-foot-five of pure talent, as soon as her custom cleats step foot on the field.
When the crowd echoes chants of her name, the rumbling of the rowdy fans, aggressive shouts cursing the other team. With crushed beer cans, sunflower seeds are spat on the ground, and they are begging for a goal. The 88’ jersey was littered across the stands. Every fan in the arena went to see her, yet you aren’t here.
It was one of the biggest games of her career, and you would not be seen anywhere, especially after the past week. She doesn’t blame you; Ellie could only blame herself but needs her good luck charm. The events replaying in her mind, haunting her while she tries to get one wink of sleep, but the look of horror in your eyes, the shoulder check you left her with, green eyes pleading to reason with her, but you refused.
Let me know when you want to grow the fuck up and tell me what’s wrong with you.
The words running in her mind, haunting her as she sleeps at night, wondering if today is the day the stone will be unturned or if she’ll actually tell you everything bothering her. But she doesn’t. Never had she seen you like it; rage carries higher than the waves of a tsunami, and all of it, every drop of water, seems to be crashing over her.
Every drop of it suffocates her until there is no oxygen left to breathe.
When she gets home, she scours the apartment for a trace of you, yet half of your belongings are absent. Ellie starts to wonder if she’s pushed you too far this time. Always, she’s betted on you sticking around through thick and thin but maybe you finally had enough.
Has she pushed you too far? Are you too far out of reach? She has no choice but to let you drown with the devil itself, succumbing to your own needs for once, not hers.
The side of the closet holding your belongings was in disarray. Ellie could see that your favorite belongings were absent. All the sweaters, hoodies, hell, even the flannels you would steal from her were meticulously folded and placed in the corner.
Ellie thought you would give her the benefit of the doubt. She thought you would let her explain why she had taken the job offer without consoling you. Now, considering what she seems to be losing, there’s nothing she wishes for more than to take it all back.
Any success is so trivial if she has no one to celebrate it with, not without you.
From the very start, you’ve been right there by her side. From the very beginning, it wasn’t as picture-perfect as she imagined. The fairytale began with what she thought would be a never-ending love story.
Something so pure, it could never turn rotten.
—
Growing up on the outskirts of New York had its perks. The small town was busy, yet the countryside tucked an hour away gave you a sense of solitude. Entirely predictable suburbs, the cul-de-sac tucked in the back of the neighborhood reeks of disturbed suburbia.
Everyone knew everyone, and you knew Ellie.
You were ten the day the two of you became friends, and you’ll never forget it. Clumsily, you had just fallen off your bike, knees skidding by the concrete as the skin had been peeled, the wound viciously open.
“Did you fall—” the girl shakes her head at herself, curses flying into the wind. “Of course you did. God, so stupid.”
She continues talking to herself as you weep slightly in a pathetic manner. Affectionately, the mysterious girl who also happens to be riding her bike past the park in your neighborhood pats you gently on the shoulder.
“I'll be right back. Stay there. I'll be back. Promise.”
She disappears on her blue and red bike, red hair flying in any direction the wind takes, but returns just like she said — a girl of her word.
“Here, let me fix you.” She grabs the first-aid kid from the bucket on her bike. Ellie kneels on the ground. You notice her bright blue Converse with red laces, which match her bicycle perfectly.
“Yeah, okay—” you sniffle, wiping away your tears as the nice girl tends to your knee. “Thanks.”
She grabs the needed tools, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Well, I used to fix my dad all the time. He's a soccer player and gets hurt a lot.
You stay silent as she rambles on.
“One day, going to be just like him, but better. My old man got too old before he decided to be good. I'm going to be the best player ever.”
“I bet you will be.” your eyes find hers, the sun making them shine like an emerald diamond, just like the one your mom wears on her ring finger.
“My coach says I'm good already but tells me not to get my hopes up.”
You realize Ellie has already cleaned your wound; her small hand applies pressure with the gauze as he wraps it away. She's so concentrated but simultaneously rambles away about her dad, the last soccer game she played in, and jokes to get your mind off the pain.
“How does it feel?” Ellie asks, the corner of her lip upturns, a soft smile gracing her freckled, full cheeks.
“Better,” you thank her, smiling shyly. She observes you as you hop back on your bike, ensuring you aren't in pain. Curiously, her mind drifts to how cute you are, and she wonders why her stomach is in complete knots.
She confuses it for sickness.
“You’re welcome.” Ellie stretches the nape of her neck, and her short hair sticks to her skin from the heat. “I'm Ellie, by the way.”
“I know.” You offer your name as Ellie blushes, her cheeks tinted pink. The love you feel is etched right into her heart, and she feels it from the first moment your name is said.
In a cliche, obvious way, the rest was history.
The two of you were best friends until college, bringing out the best in you—platonic love blossoming into something sweet, a one-in-a-million love you can only hope to find in someone else.
The tricky thing? It works. The two of you fit better than you could have ever dreamed of. The incredible bliss of youth leaves your faith blinded, corrupted by the true love you have for Ellie. Oblivious to flaws, all you see is her. Assuring you follow her around like a lost puppy; anything she wants, she gets. The skeletons in the closet are no match for the two of you, each being dragged out one by one.
But not by either of you.
—
One Week earlier…
“Would you stop so we can talk about this?” Ellie nearly shouts at you, granting her another eye roll, she’s lost count on how many you’ve thrown at her since the two of you left the club. The longing looks, her wandering olive eyes on someone else all night, gawking at the muscles, making you feel envious of someone you couldn’t have.
Your girlfriend’s attention.
But this is all your fault, right?
“Talk about what? How you, Ellie, made a decision to make a life altering decision without me? Yeah, okay, let’s fucking talk.” You have a bite in your voice, one Ellie has rarely heard, the sweetness diluted with her consistent need to keep you in the dark. “Fucking talk, please. I’d love to hear the bullshit excuse you’re gonna give me.”
“Why are you making this a big deal? It’s my career, not yours.” You bite your tongue as the words leave your mouth. Instantly, you feel burned by the person who thought loved you more than anything. Even in the heat of the moment, you figured she would give you the benefit of the doubt, even when you’ve been blind sided by her teammates. All because she was too much of a coward to tell what she’s already done. “Right. Foolish of me to think we’re a team.”
Spitefully, you throw your belongings in your tote, ignoring when she tries to grab your wrist, dodging her quickly. She tries again but stops when you tell her to. The only boundary she leaves untouched it seems.
“We are a team.” Ellie tries to convince you, but you don’t budge. Not an inch of you believes the shit she’s spewing at you.
“Oh! Well, that’s a surprise to me. If we’re such a team, why don’t you tell me why you won’t have sex with me….for eight months?” You raise your eyebrows at her, giving her an opportunity to speak but she stays silent like she always does. “If we’re such a team, why did you accept a job offer on another continent without even giving me the respect to tell me about it before you accepted the offer?”
Ellie stays silent, finding the hardwood beneath her feet more interesting.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You change into something more comfortable, slamming the bathroom door shut as you do, gathering other toiletries, different necessities you would need for the next few weeks.
You find her sitting on the edge of the bed in tears, as much as you want to hug her and give her the comfort she probably needs, there’s no good will in your heart. As much as you love her, only the boiling anger can be found. Blistering frustration, the one someone has when their girlfriend won’t touch them, kiss them, or even warrant them the truth.
“I love you, okay? I just need to figure some things out.” Ellie pouts, eyebrows furrowed as she says enough to get you to look at her. She sees the tears threatening to spill over, but you won’t let them fall in front of her. Never have you liked crying in front of others. Just as if she was anyone else, you would wait until you were in private to lick your wounds. “I just need some time, I just don’t know what’s happening to me.”
But all sincerity is lost, all you see in front of you is lies and deceit. Someone backed in the corner with no way to manipulate their way out.
“Well…figure your shit out, Els. Right now? It doesn’t seem like you do.” You grab your bags, slipping your shoes on, “I’ve had enough for now. Let me know when you grow the fuck up and let me know what’s wrong with you.”
—
Still, your blood boiled from last week’s exchange, the venomous words crawling up your throat like bile, as if this wasn’t what she wanted, what she started. All of this had been her idea.
Time and time again, dismissive words found their way into your heart, making a home before you had enough time to catch them. Sure, committed and faithful, she says. Then, she does this, makes your decisions without consulting you, and scolds you for getting upset about it. You craved space, so you did what any rational person would.
Swiftly packed your bags and flew to the other side of the country.
The fresh feeling is still swarming through your head, and the lingering words are aimed at your heart with more impact than you could stand. When they were told, Ellie regretted them the second they left her heart-shaped lips. Yet she stands there as she analyzes your tense frame, avoiding her at all costs.
You leave her with a soft murmur: staying at a friend’s. What you neglect to mention is that your friend lives on the other side of the country, tucked away in the safety of New York. Luckily, the nightlife is an easy distraction and does its job.
Intentionally, the first few nights are spent drowning yourself in liquor, letting yourself be grinded on by other drunk girls until they buy you shots, walking up back in your hotel room alone — then the cycle repeats.
The tranquility of a life forgotten, the gift of Don Julio, so like anyone else, you chase it. The drinks are free, the girls flirting with you are prettier than you’d ever seen but maybe that’s just the loneliness eating you up from the inside out. Yet, you find yourself itching to venture beneath, allow yourself to drown in someone else. Was there black lace? Possibly white or navy green boxers underneath? But you couldn’t, and you won’t. The guilt would eat you alive.
You told yourself it was just a fight, but was it? It’s when the second thought seeped in, invading the pessimistic part of your brain and feeding into malicious tendencies. Maybe you do want this? Something new?
Someone who wasn’t Ellie.
The thought alone sends shivers down your spine; an agonizing dread fills you. Never had you ever been provoked to leave, but the longer the silence welcomes you with open arms, the more the affliction lingers.
No text. No calls. No voicemails. Nothing.
Part of you ached for resolution. Even if it meant a means to an end, you could somehow soothe the aching in your chest. On the seventh day, she reached out.
A lazy effort of a text — couldn’t even be bothered to call.
elsbaby: can we talk, baby? please.
Perhaps if it had been the day after, two, three, even four — you would have the compassion to empathize. When she comes crying a week later after she spewed the most severe insults you’ve ever heard come out of her mouth? Any need to reconnect has dissipated at the drop of a hat.
this is what you wanted.
It shouldn’t make you spiral, but it does. You end up at a show; a rock band takes center stage at The Wolfhouse, and upcoming musicians try to make a name for themselves. Sitting at the bar, letting the vibrations of the base and the thumping of the snare drum infiltrate
Solemnly tapping the beat of your healed boot to the beat of the drum, you take in the singer on the stage. Black raven-haired beauty with a prominent nose and beautiful lips. She made the stage her own as she worked every angle known to man.
A firm belief is settled in your heart and everyone in there. She was born to be up there. You were too entranced, enjoying the music too much along with the cocktail in your hand, and you didn’t even notice the blonde making her way up to you.
As soon as you felt someone next to you, the first thought in your mind was how hellbent you were to be left alone. Even if it physically put you in distress, fuck, you couldn’t even remember the last time Ellie and you went on a date. The last time she touched you, kissed you, fucked you within an inch of your life.
It’s a pathetic, good for nothing excuse.
The line of morality blurs whenever your eyes latch onto eyes so gray the blue almost fades into them. Gorgeous freckles scattered across her smooth cheeks like twinkling stars in the galaxy.
Slowly, she takes your figure in, examining you up and down before smirking. She says nothing to you as she orders a neat whiskey. She hands her silver credit card to the bartender, “and whatever she wants for the rest of the night.”
You think for a moment she’ll talk to you, but she winks before settling into a booth with four others who look oddly familiar. The rest of the night, you’re met with tranquility and the steady and skilled bump of the bass guitar. It reminded me of when you were young, ambitions were the only thing on your mind, and you were lost in the never-ending need to be someone. It’s when you still believe something is worth living for, more than beating your drum to someone else’s tune.
You sipped on three Mexican martinis throughout the night and got lost when you walked up to the bar. The beefy, muscular blonde was there to greet you. This time, you got a clear look at her. Her rugged and toned frame shows off her commitment to the gym.
Yet, her deep blue pools are more charming than you would like to admit. A delicate edge to her jawline pulls you in as you admire the septum ring decorating her freckled nose, the bump in her nose making you smile softly.
You’ve always loved a girl with an intense nose for many reasons.
Mouth-watering, luscious, bliss - are all the words coming into mind when you’re looking at her. She’s wearing as little clothing as you would expect someone who leans masculine to wear, but fuck does she know it works for her. Black leather vest worn in, eating you up from the inside out, the musky scent filled with mahogany and a dash of vanilla.
The mysterious blonde's lack of undershirt adorns her body and steals the show. Immediately, she commands attention in every conceivable way. As mesmerizing as the raven-haired beauty appears, you would pay a lot to see her front and center on that stage. The shape of her small breasts is the real show in your mind, and the broad and toned torso gives you much to gawk at.
Nearly, you salivate at the defined four-pack she’s sporting. A pretty enticing deep v disappears delectably into her black leather pants as if she’s a modern-day adonis but with divine feminine written all over her. Without one doubt in the world, she knows she’s the hottest piece of ass in this bar, and for some unknown reason, she’s made you her target for the night. Wined and dined you all night without saying more than a sentence to you, and it seems she’s here to collect.
In the forefront of your mind, you believe it’s to serve some self-serving action to get off from what’s between your thighs, the sweet treat every girl has chased in this long week, but your long-term commitment tying you down like handcuffs to the post of your bed Ellie has kept you in.
Petrifying you to your bones, you aren’t sure what to make of the thrill building up; you can’t deny the longer you look at her, the more your thighs rub together in sync with the other.
“So—” With her tall stature, decisively, she steps forward, lips pressing against your ear with her hot breath seeping under your skin, “Are you wet because you know who I am or because you can’t stop looking at my tits?”
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows quirked up, and you wondered why it was a factor. Was she someone you were supposed to know? Now that she said something, there was something familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. “Why would I have any idea who you are?”
Though your pussy has a heartbeat and seems to have a mind of its own. You forget about everything else when the woman gives you a toothy grin, which is too perfect.
“That’s cute, but see, everyone knows who I am—” Abby takes matters into her own hands and begins to nibble on the side of your neck, harshly biting and sucking lightly, taking in the taste of your skin as if she’s trying to find the perfect vein to puncture with her pointy canines. If it were the case, you’d let her suck the life out of you if you got to keep her to yourself for the night. “Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll know by the end of the night.”
She’s passionately driven when her skilled lips and velvet tongue continue to make a mark on you as if you are hers to own, hers to please as she sees fit. You don’t even know her name, but the raging storm of lust isolates you within her honey trap. All of it feels too finite, everlasting, even if it’s just solid concrete to stand on for the night.
Then, you remember Ellie. The longing text sent to you, not even a call. The love of your life, or so you’d always hoped, couldn’t be bothered to call you this entire week. The fallout of an inconceivable aftermath only now did she try to reach out.
“Tell me why you’re soaking wet, baby girl.”
You try to push her back, but she doesn’t even move; her frame is too strong. Now, your warm, firm hand places itself on her defined abdomen, pressing against the clearly defined muscles.
You can’t deny how flushed you’ve become.
This time you are drooling; her thumb wipes away the liquid before she sucks it back into her mouth. Her grin is even more wicked, knowing she has you right where she wants to be.
It’s when you notice the mirrored scorpions, one on either side, her muscular biceps littered with tattoos, and the front of her neck — practically having fuck me written all over her.
You should leave.
You fucking should.
She has an appetite for something else, pulling you by the waistband of your pants, her finger securely wrapped around the belt buckle. Pelvis to pelvis, grinding against you swiftly to see how much you move, and the smile she’s wearing is satisfying enough.
She’s always liked them needy, messy, and so damn right horny they’re putty in her extensive and capable hands.
“I’m waiting.” Her hunger is evident in her tone. She is ready to relish her sudden craving, at least to you.
“I-I don’t even know your name,” you confess, hoping it will steer her away from you, but it’s a pathetic attempt.
“Abby. What else is your concern, babygirl?” Her knee sneaks between your legs, applying pressure to your cunt.
“I—” Almost with a soft thrust of her knee, Abby pushes against your cunt, damping her leather with a fucking desirable slick she’s dying to taste. Although it’s clear you like the chase, she gives it.
Had you had sex in the past eight months, you might have pushed away the overly cocky specimen, but it has been that long. Only making the patch in your panties grow as she teases your pussy.
Abby’s frame blocks anyone from seeing what she’s doing to you, your skirt riding up so much she can see the rounded cheeks slipping out, the black fabric slightly exposed under the bar's dim light. The more she presses, the faster your hips move against her.
Without a care in the world, you slid so far back, and you’re on her thigh, strong arms wrapped around you, whispering filthy nothings in your ear as you get yourself off on the stranger’s muscular body. If the bartender notices, she doesn’t mind. Pretends like you’re not even there. You’re not sure which is more embarrassing.
“Fuck, move those hips. Just like that, yeah.”
The high, the one you’ve wanted from your girlfriend who doesn’t even want to touch you, is so close. There’s a burn in your throat infused by sheer guilt that someone else will bring you to head. Some stranger you don’t know, one handsome stranger, yet when she pushes your panties to the side and thumbs your clit it’s so challenging to care about anyone but yourself.
You moan her name as she touches you, a skilled touch as she lightly pinches and soothes the sensitive bud. She completely enraptured you with the light touch she had to offer. Terrifyingly so, it shouldn’t affect you the way it does.
The look in her eyes would have sent you reeling. Her musky scent is already doing enough for you. You find yourself tangled in the webs of honeydew, suckling until you’ve had enough of the sweet sensation.
You’re just not sure how long it’ll be until you do.
“God, acting like you haven’t been fucked, baby. Such a dirty slut letting me do….well, whatever I want.”
Abby uses her free, dominant hand to guide your hips at a pace she sees fit. A thrill shoots down her spine as your incessant need grows like a flower at the dawn of spring—a tiny seed that is useless unless it bears root flourishing from where it’s planted.
“So, what’s it going to be?” Abby questions. A glimmer of assurance fills her ocean eyes. She was playfully biting your exposed shoulder blade.
“I can get you off right here, or you can come home with me.” the incredible sensation of her pierced muscling punching your skin with a chill, the stainless-steel ball adds a new sensation you weren’t expecting. She suckles and bites, marking you the more bruises as if she’s decorative for her enjoyment. “Or both. I think someone is close. I bet you’re ready to spill on my thigh. Wanna give me every last drop like the whore you are.”
“Your home?” you manage to spit out, trying to ignore the filth she spits, but it only brings you closer to your much-needed euphoric bliss. Abby’s efforts double over as if she’s fucked you before, bouncing her leg as as you ride her thigh, knowing exactly what you need to cum all over her.
Typically, the thread of your orgasm wouldn’t have been so easy to pull, but it seems she’s the one who placed it there in the first place. Months of not being touched left you in the hands of this Greek god who could make you feel whatever you wished for.
She’s cocky, confident, and the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen. Yet, the answer is still hard to find.
“Yeah, angel, my place.” You nod, unable to make a verbal confirmation.
“Gotta hear you say it.” Just then, the feeling that was bubbling spills over and all over her hand as she cups your cunt, thumb continuing to rub at your puffy clit.
“Yes, Yes, Yes.” you curse, chants of ecstasy fumble from your loose lips. Carelessly, you’re focused on the intense heartbeat between your legs, your body convulsing against her.
“What's that? M’not sure if I can wear you over your weeping cunt.” Repeatedly, Abby slaps your cunt as punishment.
“I-I want to, fuck, shit. Oh god, yes. I want to go home with you.” Your body slumps against her as she holds up your weight, and your high fades. Still, you feel blissful against her touch. Any other worry plaguing your mind dissipates, and all you think is her and strong muscles keeping you upright.
“Good girl,” she whispers before paying off the tab and putting the lace material pack in place. You feel the white liquid stick to you, filthy, resting against you—the once taintless fabric coated with the pleasures of your sin. Dizzy, unsteady, breathless — it’s everything you feel.
She thrives on knowing you need her. Even if it’s for tonight, the purpose will be served. Regardless of what she needs, this will be even more of a thrill, and the only thing she uses is her hand—not even her dominant one.
Abby moves your skirt down so your ass is covered again. “C’mon, pretty girl. let’s see how much of a slut you are." She leads you outside while she makes quick work of her phone, and suddenly, there’s a sleek black car, a Cadillac, you assume, with a driver in tow. The windows are tinted enough for you to wonder if it’s even legal. Silver rims, with a diamond emblem in the center shining so bright under the moonlight that it nearly takes your attention from the woman who has you in her grip.
“Last chance? I can have her drive you home.” She smirks, knowing you won’t take the out that’s being so generously given. Perfect, beautiful, she thinks, eyes still dilated from you getting off on her thing and the continuous swipe of the pad of her thumb.
It’s there. The smidge of penance you feel you’re obligated to ask for. Regardless of how amazing it feels, there’s something about the ending. This will be the end of all fuck ups; maybe, there’s still hope for the two of you if you go home. Call Ellie in the morning before the need to suppress the shame.
But don’t you deserve this one thing for yourself?
Everything under the sun has been for the auburn-haired beauty who has held your heart from the moment she patched up your bleeding knee. The moment a total stranger managed to win your heart, an adolescent love that knew nothing of the lesson of heartbreak or the years you chased after Ellie while she was chasing others.
How she let her feelings hover over the friendship of years with no consequence, especially after her long-term high school girlfriend, the one whose heart she broke into a tiny million pieces. Tragically, there still stood an existing fear for you. She was just a kid, but would she move on as quickly now as she did back then? It was as if they meant nothing to her, moving from the next one as if the time spent together had been insignificant, meaningless, just an ease to pass the misery of time.
You feared you would be the same.
Falling under the same umbrella, but you hope you are different. There were talks of marriage and settling into the countryside once she could retire. A shared dream, you thought. Perhaps it was a foolish sin to keep close to your heart.
Then there was Abby, a heavenly distraction from all the dread waiting for you. Everything you must pick back up eventually if you want to stay tucked into the nightlife of New York is just your dreams hanging up on the shelf, totting away with the relationship. An expiration date was labeled on the two of you, and an impending doom you could only fall through.
Everything was always for her.
Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.
“What’s it going to be, princess?” She pulled you towards as she spun you around with ease, back pulled to her chest, her lips kissing your ear. All you could focus on was how strong she felt. Her strong hold bending you to her will wouldn’t be a challenge. If she wanted to, she could do whatever she liked. You are sure no isn’t a word she’s used to hearing.
But it went further than just how she looks.
It’s in the way she doesn’t even have to lift a finger to have you hooked on her. It entices you, thinking about how long she’d been staring at you all night. The curve of your ass in your tight, little skirt — was she staring at it? Did she think about all the ways she could fuck your perfect little hole if you would let her do everything she’d been thinking of? The way your hardened nipples poked through your mesh top. If she said anything, you could blame it on the draft, not just her sheer presence making them protrude through the fabric.
She did no work whatsoever to make you cum, letting you use her to get yourself off. There was an ease to it. One you hadn’t experienced before.
Here she is, using it against you again.
“Am I coming in the car with you, or will you rub your clit, alone, wishing you’d let me fuck you in all the ways I’ve been dreaming?” Her hands sneak under the lace, pinching your nipples between her thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way your hips buck up, aching to be touched by her again.
“Just give in, baby. I know you want to.” Her dominant hand abandons your nipple, leaving the other to tease it. While she escapes underneath your skirt once again, “So wet for me already, huh?” Harshly, she grips your cunt, a finger sliding up your slit, but she’s intentional about not letting it slip in.
“I-I shouldn’t, shit, oh my g—” You try to think of an excuse, one good enough to convince yourself you should not go through with this. “I really shouldn’t.”
“And?” Abby’s canines dig into the side of your neck as she teasingly bites the flesh, soothing it with a velvet tongue, making more marks on the side she hadn’t touched tonight. “Are you taken?”
“That’s a complicated question.” Abby grins at your response with a sinister smirk.
“Well, if she’s not making you happy, let me do it for her.” Abby tilts your jaw, forcing you to gaze at her.
“Let me guess, no one has touched this perfect pussy in a long time. So, fucking neglected, huh?”
“I didn’t say I had a—”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” Your pussy dripping with shame at her words.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You admit. Abby continues to torture you with the split of your slit, the two of you starting to draw attention, but you think it just excites her even more. “I haven’t felt—”
The moment you say the words, Abby spins you around. You whine at her touch leaving your pussy, but she makes up for it slightly when her hands palm your ass. “Tell me. Look me in my eyes, baby, and tell me what you need. I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”
Your hands weave themselves into her golden locks. You are intertwined with the waves that disguise themselves as shimmering waterfalls. But you look down as you try to think of some excuse to leave and make yourself leave with dignity.
Big mistake.
The happy trail, the blonde hair travels inside her pants, leaving you in awe underneath the moonlight. Abby’s leather vest pushed off slightly, her tits still covered with black pasties.
“Why don’t you take them off? Wanna see my pretty tits, baby?” You nod with too much eagerness. Abby chuckles.
She watches with a smirk as you take them off. The silver, shining barbell has you moan at the sight of them—the sight of her. Smudged black eyeliner makes her appear even more irresistible, hooded eyes gazing at you; a gentle hand finds your throat, applying pressure with her thumb, constraining your breathing slightly.
“Fuck, they are perfect.” You confess, your eyes gleaming at her pink nipples exposed before meeting with her eyes once again.
“Yeah, they are, but they would look even better with your pretty lips around them.”
She will not give up.
“This is such a bad idea.” Abby knows your mind is made up, and you’ll come home with her. Even if the guilt swarms like a bee to a honey hive, it’s all the same to her. “But, God, you’re so fucking hot.”
Your hands roam her toned, tattooed torso, the scorpions so delicious you want to outline every detail with your tongue. The thought of being strong has worn off—only the woman before you is on your mind.
“Well, to me, it seems you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” Fingertips grazing her tits, her nipple hardening underneath you touch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want after I’m done with you. Well, if you still have the energy.”
A grumbling of frustration leaves your lips — you aren’t sure if it’s a desperate plea, a sigh of relief, or something else entirely.
“Like what?” You can’t stop touching her breasts, continuing to tease her pink nipple, but you meet her eyes. Abby’s positive you’ve never seen a smirk so wide.
“What do you like?” Abby pushes your hair back, fuck me eyes looking up at her. The ones that hadn’t left from the moment you laid eyes on her. She leans down just a little so her lips are pressed against your ear, “Do you wanna fuck my ass? Want me to sit on your gorgeous face while you eat me out? Fuck me in front of the mirror and watch my face when I cum?”
Grabbing your hair, she yanks it. Exposing the expanse of your neck. She’s grown so fond of marking. The slick between her thighs continued to blossom as you let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Like a whimpering bitch in heat, you took everything she had to offer.
Fuck it.
You cradle her face with her palms, smashing her lips to yours. It’s all tongue and teeth. Rough palms squeezing your ass, making you grind into her again. Your force casually lets her stumble into the car but you don’t let up. Whimpering and moaning into her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, as if this moment will slip right through your fingers.
Her breath smells of fresh mint, her tongue casually dominates yours, staking claim to what she already believes to be hers. It’s then you realize your forever doomed because you feel the fluttering in your stomach as she growls in your mouth, animalistic — your pelvis grinding against her much more defined one.
You pull apart for one moment, unable to take one more moment away from her.
If you don’t get it, her tongue, her cunt, those pretty fingers decorated in silver jewelry, hell, you would settle for her pierced nipples rubbing against your clit.
“Abby?” She stops, opening her eyes to see you. You’re even more fucked out than she is. “Yes, baby?” She hums into your mouth, the sweet sensation vibrating your entire body.
“Let’s stop giving everyone a show and give me one.” Abby nods, the first sign of her eagerness as she opens the door for you, unable to keep her hands off you.
“We better go before you soak my car then, hm?” She slaps your ass as she leads you in.
—
As she has you in tow, hand in yours leading you towards the elevator in her building, the most luxurious one you’ve seen, one so high you’re sure it’s the highest in the skyline of New York City.
It isn’t surprising she has her own driver, or she lives in the penthouse of the building, even the plaques decorating the wall — a shrine to her evident success. Everything just…makes sense. Yet there’s a pit in your stomach, crawling and feasting. It's swarming within you, a nagging incessant fly buzzing around warning you to run. You don’t have much time to think about how horrible of an idea this is.
Alone with someone who could easily overpower you, at the mercy of a complete stranger yet when she puts her arms around your waist, all of it seems to melt away. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You’re just thinking too much.
That’s all it is.
The little voice chants in your head, trying to make excuses for yourself as to not go through with this but they dissipate when her calloused palms find home on your waist. Soothing over your delicate skin, enticing you into her impenetrable web. Everything about her intoxicates you. Making every thought vacant your head, even more so when she starts playing with the hem of your skirt.
“Let me get you a drink.” She kisses your temple before going behind the makeshift bar in the dining room. An assortment of every liquor component known behind her. Part of you thinks she’s doing it for show, the way her biceps flex as she shakes the drink in the silver canister, pointingly making the drink you’d been ordering all night long.
So, she had been watching you all night. You knew if she wasn’t as hot as she is, you’d be creeped out. But it’s hard to be creeped out when she’s still shirtless, the black leather vest doing very little to cover her. Any time she moves you see her pink pierced nipples, nearly making you salivate.
With the Mexican martini in her grip, with her own in the other, you’re stuck. You didn’t think she’d actually want to have a conversation with you. Leading you out to the balcony, almost the entire view of the city before your very eyes, practically causing you to freeze in your footsteps.
“Wow.” Unable to conceal it, you voice your immediate awe. Abby chuckles, the first sign of sincerity you’ve seen all night. Everything else only seemed as a woman trying to get a needed fuck but right now but she hasn’t even tried to even so much as kiss you. Taking small sips of her whiskey, hip touching yours as the moonlight reflects from the water to her blue eyes, nearly as vivid as the moon itself.
“Yeah, it’s quite a view, think it’s the only thing keeping me coming back here. I’m on the road so much, it’s nice to have some stability.” Abby smiles softly, the confession tumbling from her lips before she can catch it. ”A pretty penny for me to keep it but it’s worth it.”
“Is this your move then?” You know the martini is doing the talking for you, if not you’d be a mumbling mess unable to form one sentence that even sounds remotely coherent. Abby quirks one of her blonde eyebrows upwards but keeps her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue. “Is this what you do with everyone?”
Abby takes a step closer to you, giving you all her attention. She plays with the chain on your neck, pulling it lightly to bring you closer to her. Carefully eyeing you up and down, smirking as she does, “Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie like I do with everyone else?”
It’s more than you expected her to offer. A careless lie would have suited her more. If there is one thing you know for sure, Abby could get anyone she wants and she wouldn’t have brought you here if she didn’t want you to be here.
“Are you capable of the truth? M’not sure you are.” For once, Abby is a bit silent. Carefully, she contemplates on what to say next. She isn’t sure what she should say. Usually she’s the one laying the honey traps for the swarming bees but right now? Abby feels like the control is slipping from her grip.
She can’t have that.
“Which one is going to make that guilt easier on your conscience?” Abby smirks as the shame fills your eyes. “It’s a girlfriend, isn’t it? It always is.” Anyone else would take two steps back, maybe even see themselves out but you want to prove a point.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The immediate rejection of your very real girlfriend fills you with even more shame than you know what to do with. Abby chuckles at the omission, the way your voice shrieks out the statement with a sense of urgency. A desperate action to cover the truth. “Sure you don’t.”
“I’m telling the truth!” Your voice raises as you lean into Abby, her firm hands on your waist as you both face each other. Abby nods, tongue poking through her cheek, pulling at your necklace once again. Admiring the curve in the E, the gold chain shining. It’s a pretty necklace, probably one your girlfriend gave you but Abby makes no comment of it.
“Yeah, okay, and I hate pussy.” Abby giggles. You think it’s so cute, it shouldn’t even be funny, but it is. Just like earlier in the night, you’re so close to her, nothing as slim as a sheet of paper could fit in between the two of you. Without even thinking about it, you rest your hand on her abdomen again, her strength tangible as you feel her up once again. Truly, you’re unable to stop touching her. Every part of you wants this to happen, even if it comes back to bite you in the ass, the curiosity and your fluttering cunt can’t really think of anything else.
“You can still walk out that door. Just say the word and my driver will take you home.” Abby whispers into the busy street beneath you, it’s so faint from the distance but the two of you can hear it. “Or you can let me slide your pretty little skirt up and let me make a slut of you, babygirl.”
Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it’s your throbbing clit, maybe it’s the lack of contact in months, most of all maybe it’s the fact Ellie took so long to reach out, but you give in. Throwing your arms around her neck, pulling her lips to yours, regardless of the possible consequence looming after you, threatening to tear apart the picture perfect life you thought you’re living.
All of it happens in a blink of an eye. Abby’s tongue staking claim, dominating in ways you didn’t know were possible before she’s pushing your front against the balcony, placing your hand on the railing. With ease, she maneuvers your body in just the way she wants. “Gotta tell me yes pretty girl, that’s the only way this is going to start.”
Facing the view, the buzzing city filled with nightlife and wonder, endless possibilities on your fingertips but you’re thinking about her hands. How much you want them inside you, fucking you full, or the strap in her pants you’d be rubbing against earlier. The thoughts of her slipping her cock inside you, claiming you in a way no one has in awhile. Making you feel wanted, needed, even if it was a fleeting feeling just for the night. You deserve it. Just one, stupid, decision — you were owed at least one.
“Yes, s’what I want. You.” That’s all it takes before Abby pushes your skirt to your waist, sliding off your panties as she allows you to step out of them.
“Are you sure?” Abby questions you. She pushes off from you, you hear her zipper being brought down as you look back at her, her vest being chucked to the lawn chair by the pool.
Fuck.
If she’s even half as good as she’s claiming to be, you are so fucked.
“I’m sure.”
Abby wraps her hands around your waist again, hands dipping under your shirt as she squeezes your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with her fingers. You sigh instantly, loving the stimulation she’s providing. You feel the barrel of her tongue piercing as she lightly sucks behind the sweet spot behind your ear, as if Abby's the one to place it there in the first place.
“Good.” Abby teases your entrance with her cock, your body shuddering as it slides over your folds, using your slick as lubricant. Already, you’re grinding against her, just like before as she guides your hips in the pace she likes. “Do you like getting off on my cock, baby?”
“Mhm, yeah, I do.” It’s all but a whisper. Abby still hears you speak, slapping your ass playfully, blunt fingers digging into the skin. She can’t believe anyone not wanting to touch you, not wanting to make you feel good. You’re the hottest person she’s ever fucking seen. Your ass, your tits, the moans spilling from your mouth, it’s been in her filthiest dreams.
“What about now?” Abby lets her cock slip inside you, stretching out your walls as you take everything she has to offer. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled like this, your cunt greedily taking every inch has she slides in further and further. With a tight grip, you hold onto the railing as she thrust with her strong hips forward, your back arching so deep as she places her hand on your lower back, forcing the bend.
“Oh…” Abby grins at your desperate moans, “You really do know how to be a good girl and take it.” Her name falls from your lips like a stuttering prayer, as if she’s the god you’re praising at the altar. With each thrust, Abby back more of her strength into, packing a powerful punch to your cunt. Pulling at the strings, already making you see stars as you take from the angle.
“Fuck!” With no warning, Abby pulls at your hair, your body conforming to her will. She could do as she pleased and you would let her. You wonder if you even had a chance or if this is what was meant to be. Her speed grows rapidly, your stomach doing flips as she penetrates you, fucking you until you’re irrevocably spent.
“See? You’re just a whore. My whore. Got you cock drunk for me. Don’t I?” Abby thumbs with your clit, making you see stars. Lost in the effortlessness of her actions, calloused fingers playing you like her drums set. With ease, from memory she pulled out a performance, just like she did at every show, aiming to please her audience.
“Do you—” Abby draws circles on your puffy clit, your growl as you attempt to push through your words. “Shit, I’m—”
“Hm?” You hear it, the sound of your cunt being fucked blending into the busy street, her hands pulling you on her cock over and over. “Didn’t think I’d take it easy on you now, did you?”
“I just didn’t think you’d actually feel this good.” With one particular hard thrust, Abby has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body begins to shake at her ministrations.
“We’re just getting started but I wanna see that gorgeous face.” She pulls out of you as she sits on the nearest lawn chair, “Hop back on, babygirl, s’all yours to use.” You remove the rest of your clothes, the E chain the only thing adorning your body.
Messily, Abby spits on her large palm, mixing your slick coating her cock making sure she’d be nice and ready for you to slide right back on. You grip her soft, freckled shoulders as she helps guide you, her blue eyes darkening as she sees the bliss written all over your face. Sinking on her cock is a sight Abby wants to replay in her mind, the high pitched moan that releases from your body is food for her soul.
“Fuck yourself on me, babygirl. Mhm, show me how much you need it.” You lean her forehead against yours, look in her beautiful blues, feeling a strange sense of intimacy as she fucks hours brains out. Abby likes the fact you have no idea who she is but you’re riding her like no tomorrow.
When you start bouncing on her cock, Abby loses all coherent thought. Your not so subtle bounce of your tits, she loves them so much she cranes her neck to suck on your nipples, her tongue piercing adding a new sensation, unable to stop your pussy from gushing around her.
“Does your girlfriend fuck you like this? Mhm, I don’t think so. My sweet babygirl, so frustrated, and all you need is some good fucking cock, huh?”
“All I need is you.” Abby thrusts her hips into you, her heavily ring hand slips her pinky ring off, the shimmering gold is placed on your clit, your body jerking from someone so cold on your throbbing bundle of nerves.
“Since you can’t feel the little ball on my tongue right now, I suppose this will have to do.”
“Is that so, baby? Need me?” Abby glances over your shoulder before looking back at you, before she continuously meets the roll of your hips with her thrusts. “Dirty fucking slut, so horny for your cunt to be fucked properly. It’s why you came out tonight, why you got off on my thigh at the bar, why you couldn’t stop looking at me, s’why your hands have been over me all fucking night.”
“Abby, shit, keep talking like that.”
“Hm, you like when I call you my dirty slut? When I tell you how needy you are for me? Bet you would have let me bend you over the bar and fucked you right there.” You’re groaning, you scream her name so loudly, Abby can’t help but grin with a sinister smirk.
“Yes, would let you do anything.” Abby hums approvingly, the cool sensation of her diamond encrusted ring doing wonders to bring you over the edge, “Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever—”
One particular hard thrust has Abby wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you up as your body nearly becomes deadweight, her head making home on your shoulder. It’s when she steps into the light, met with Abby’s darkness. The night she had perfectly curated to fully benefit her, the strategic planning of a rotten apple, split right down the middle when push came to shove.
—
Three Months Prior…
“You said you would tell her.” The frustration written all over Abby’s face, her voice only raising an octave higher. Abby has never been so disgusted with herself, stopping so low, thinking she would get chosen over the long term girlfriend.
Stupid.
“I know what I said. I’m telling you, I can’t.” Ellie pinches the bridge of her button nose, trying to concentrate as Abby makes no move to do anything else but continue to fuck Ellie’s cunt.
“Oh no?” Abby slips a third finger in her pussy as she shoves her face between her slender thighs. “You don’t wanna tell her why you won’t fuck her anymore? All the light night calls with your manager are flights to come to my penthouse and get your pussy fucked out?”
Her tongue dips into Ellie’s pussy, she flattens her pierced tongue, the cool golden ball adding stimulation to the weeping woman’s clit, her body jerking at the action. “She’s too fucking good for you.” The speed of the bigger girl’s fingers send Ellie into godspeed, flirting with another dimension as she allows Abby to play tricks on her pussy.
The reason she comes back, no one makes her cum like she does, not even you. Abby wants more but Ellie refuses to give it, not willing to leave you even if you know what she’s been doing, all the lies she’s told in order to fuck Abby, you’d never look her way again. “She can't do this though? It’s why you keep coming back, you need my fingers stuffed in your pussy.” Abby’s fingers are reaching so deep, kissing Ellie’s cervix as she grips onto her wrist, bucking her hips up into the rockstar’s fingers.
“Maybe I should give them to her instead. I’m sure she would be more grateful.” Abby spits sloppily on Ellie’s pussy, kitten licking her clit until she sucks it in her mouth, tongue rapidly flicking over her bundle of nerves. Abby tsks, “Selfish slut, cum on daddy’s tongue like you fucking mean it.”
Like the greedy whore she is, Ellie squirts into Abby’s mouth and the blonde doesn’t waste a single moment, she slurps obnoxiously on Ellie’s cunt. “Fucking whore.” Her tongue flattens as he licks from her puckered hole to her clit, every drop dispersing into mouth.
Ellie’s entire body shakes, barely registering when Ellie throws on a robe, leaving it open and she lights up a cigarette on the balcony of her bedroom. Ellie whines for Abby.
“This was the last time.” With a flip of a switch, Abby’s tone changes, her cunt with her blonde pubes making her pussy appear even more irresistible, all she wanted was to get on her knees for Abby, repay the favor but the stoic look on her face tells her she won’t be getting anywhere near her tonight.
She exhales a puff of smoke, her sun kissed skin reflecting off the moonlight, every defined line of muscle making her even more beautiful. “But why? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?”
“No but I’m not interested in being someone’s side piece. I’m the main fucking show.” Abby shrugs her shoulders matter of factly, “Show yourself out, Williams.”
—
The memory flashes before Abby’s eyes, she’s sure it’s crossing Ellie’s mind, her worst nightmare playing in front of her. Her girlfriend, screaming her mistress’s name, as she clings onto Abby like a second life line. The look of horror in her emerald eyes, she would know your body everywhere, it’s you.
“All mine, my pretty pussy baby, m’babygirl gonna cum soon? yeah? can you do that for me?” Every word spoken was salt in the wound, smearing in as Ellie stood frozen still. The text was deliberately sent tonight for her own demise. Using Ellie’s needy nature against her, but it seems someone else was quite needy, but fuck was she prettier.
Ellie is a fucking idiot, Abby thought.
Knowing how much she loved it, Abby brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the digit, then she teases your puckered hole and you’re begging to convulse. Letting yourself be held by Abby, but your hips don’t stop moving.
No.
You’re fucking yourself even harder on her.
“Mommy, please? Make me cum, fuck, need to cum all over your cock. Gonna dump her for you, please. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” With her finger only slightly slipping into your ass, you see pull on her golden waves, allowing yourself to slip into the hold of rotten intentions. Ellie has seen enough as she slams the door on her way out but you’re too fucked out to even clock it.
“Good girl. Let it go. Mommy’s got you. Mhm, give it all to me, baby.” When she’s don’t fucking you into another dimension, Abby lays back on the chair, feeling quite satisfied with her successful plot of revenge.
Even better, she has you.
You fall on top of her, still stuffed full, when she finds sucking on her nipples. Your tongue toying with the barbell, pushing and pulling as Abby takes a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all night.” You giggle lightly, Abby drawing random patterns on your exposed back. She doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt as she lets you suck on her tits, marking her porcelain skin. You’re already more of a giver than Ellie, she smiles at the thought.
“Don’t have to apologize. Never going to say no to a beautiful girl sucking my tits.”
She’s entirely mesmerized by you, in ways she hasn’t been before. Truthfully, she almost came from seeing you cum. Never in her life has someone brought her so close without having her pussy in their mouth. “Do you want the driver to take you home or do you want to go for round two? I’d like to fuck you on my bed, feel your dripping cunt on mine, make you forget about that pathetic girlfriend of yours.”
You forget she’s still inside you because you sit up fully and you’re moaning, again.
“I’d like that but let me give you another ride, yeah?”
Unbeknownst to you, the rotten apple lays beneath you, the same E chain hidden beneath the countless chains adorning her neck but sometimes they can taste just as divine as the sweet one. Sour or sweet? That’s for you to decide.
Bloody, intentional, reckless — Abby Anderson has brought it all.
Showing Ellie just how sweet something rotten could really be if preserved for someone else.
reblogs and extra thots are appreciated! hope you enjoyed ♡
taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @mytwoseater @cherrybunny @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @lucidfairies @vxqen @liizzygrant @ivka165-blog @yourfriendlyneighboorhoodeden @lluvme9 @wifeoftish @wildcatsgs @skzhoiic c @sheadoreshannah @angelynn-nicole @dizzy-dyke @crackhead237 @fairydxll @ellieusedtampon @bottom4butches @slxtcity
sorry if you aren’t tagged, my tumblr likes to be a butt. </3
#tumblr put my stuff in the tags challenge!#abby anderson#abby anderson x fem!reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby x you#abby anderson angst#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams angst#ellie williams smut#ellabs smut#ellabs x reader
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Mr. Bakery Man
baker!joel miller x f!reader
rating: none
synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.
warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.
word count: 3.3k
a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍
Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades.
Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state.
You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested.
You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming.
The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin.
One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work.
And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life.
You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s.
The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to.
You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth.
The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order.
“Hey Randy, how’s it going?”
“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs.
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!”
After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register.
“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light.
“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.”
She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it.
“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup.
You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.”
You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup.
“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back.
“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.
He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner.
“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot.
You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more.
“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.”
“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.”
You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right?
“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?”
“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again.
Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.”
“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback.
“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.”
You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats.
You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you.
“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously.
“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.”
Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.”
And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy.
“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out.
“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip.
Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner.
Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back.
-
A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece.
Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens.
As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie.
Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date.
And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls.
“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair.
“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop.
“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”
You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff.
“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.”
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off.
“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded.
You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe.
“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features.
“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name.
You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised.
Joel.
The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance.
He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees.
“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite.
Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off.
“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows.
He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him.
“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe.
That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number.
You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all.
Fuck it.
You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line.
“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day.
“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest.
His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside.
Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No.
The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out.
“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks.
“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…”
“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?”
“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.”
-
Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated.
You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself.
You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is.
He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy.
“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses.
“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though.
Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other.
“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows.
“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself.
“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding.
“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.”
He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words.
“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.
You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out.
“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.”
“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?”
“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush.
“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss.
“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged.
“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing.
“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest.
“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?”
“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods.
“Somethin’ like that.”
“I’d love to.”
Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck.
It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart.
You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals.
He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him.
He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know.
So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.
Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer.
You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months.
You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other.
You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace.
And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to.
He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3
#shortieswritingchallenge#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller one shot#baker!joel miller#joel miller is in his hallmark era#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel fic
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🕷 Silk and Shadows
I. Shattered Threads
Pairing: Older! Damian Wayne x Spider! Reader Synopsis: While fighting a multiversal anomaly, Spiderlily is thrown into a city of shadows. With their Gizmo shattered and no way home, they discover Gotham’s dangers are far greater than they ever imagined. But giving up is not an option, because with great power, comes great responsibility. TW: Violence, Anxiety, Light Injury, Threatening Creatures, & Disorientation Word Count: 3,601
The city lights of New York had begun to flicker on, as the sun slowly fell over the building's horizons. For the past week, you have been running on pure willpower. Between starting university, working, maintaining a personal life, and keeping up with New York as the friendly neighborhood Spiderlily, it has been difficult to say the least. You loved your life, but being (y/n) and Spiderlily was beyond demanding.
Bells of the cafe chimed, as you turned to greet the customer. While attending New York University, you worked at a local cafe part-time to help with the bills. The cafe was a small and cozy place, just off of a corner 10 minutes away from NYU. As you lift your head up from wiping the counters, you see your two best friends bounce in.
Lenora Peterson, better known as Leni, has light brown medium-length hair that curls just a bit at the ends and big golden brown eyes that somehow always seem to have a mischievous glint to them. Leni is the crazy engineer type. She has quite the passion for crafting things and trying out new scientific experiments that should probably be considered illegal. You guessed that being a Mechanical Engineer major allowed her to create such strange machinery whenever she pleased.
Hanley Munoz, also known as LeyLey, stands at 5'10" with fluffy brown hair styled to the side. His green eyes, often framed by his black thick rimmed glasses, are calculating. Kind but never sure. Hanley was never great with social cues and is trusting to a fault, but is incredibly intelligent despite this. Majoring in Biochemistry, he dedicates most of his time playing lacrosse for the NYU team.
And then there was you. NYU Biophysics major and local spider-hero. The three of you were like the Three Stooges. Ever since middle school, you were always seen together and rarely ever apart. Participating in multiple different science fairs and other events together. However, you never wanted to involve them in your private life as Spiderlily. It did not take long for Leni to figure out your identity, but Hanley still has not yet seemed to catch on. His lack of awareness played well for you, and you planned to keep it that way.
Although, ever since Leni has found out about Spiderlily, she began to self-proclaim herself as your ‘man in the chair’. While you were adamantly against this for a while, she ended up becoming one of your greatest assets. She has helped you improve and fix your gadgets when you didn’t have the time. She’s guided you through the city countless times. She has even made your spidersuit. Now, Leni was no seamstress. Except for when the fabric involves vibranium. How she managed to get her hands on a vibranium custom spider suit for you is beyond your comprehension. You’ve learned it’s best not to ask her these kinds of questions. Especially when it's handed to you on such a nice silver platter.
The smell of coffee washes over you once again as you place your cleaning rag off to the side of the counter. Both Leni and Hanley make their way up to the register to greet you.
“And how may I help you guys today?”, you ask playfully, meeting them at the front register with your hands on the counter and your head tilted to the side.
“Our usuals please, madam.”, Leni retorts back in a terrible fake British accent. Her arm is slung around Hanley’s left one, whose hands are in his pocket. His Lacrosse bag is slung on his right arm, along with his school bag. The two both seem tired from the day, but Leni seems to be a bit more energetic as she is tugging Hanley back and forth as she sways.
You note the tired eyes Hanley has while he attempts to stifle a yawn. Presumably exhausted from his classes and Lacrosse practice. You look over to Leni who is now pulling out her wallet. Guess it was her turn to spot for coffee.
As you type up their usual coffee orders, you read it out loud to them- “So, that’ll be one blended medium vanilla frap and one extra large salted caramel cold brew.”.
“Oh! Can you add 5 extra shots to my cold brew.”, Leni quickly pipes in.
You look up at her with a stoic stare. “You’re joking. Right?”
“No, I have some essays I have to suffer through tonight for English 1301, and our personal project I want to complete.”, Leni finishes with an obvious wink at you. Hinting at the new spider gadgets she has been working on for the past week.
“What? You got something in your eye?”, Hanley questions, turning his head to Leni with a weird look of confusion.
You both are so lucky Hanley is as oblivious as he is. Truly.
Your eyes roll at this as you let out a soft chuckle. “Legally, no. Cold brews are already at max level of caffeine and it would be illegal for me to add any more. So, no.”
Leni scowls at your response, her lips pursing together in thought. “Can you leave some space in the cup and give me 5 shots on the side?”
You both stare at each other for what seems like a long moment. You are lucky the cafe is not busy at this hour.
“Fine.”, you state while typing it into the system, your face still deadpan before letting out a soft smile. Leni cheered at this and tapped her card on the card reader.
“What? No tip?”, you tease her again. She playfully sticks her tongue out at you, while Hanley begins to pull out a couple bucks from his wallet and drops it into your tip jar.
“Thank you, HANLEY.”, you emphasize his name. Leni laughs at this and begins to drag Hanley towards their usual table. Hanley grunts in response, as if saying ‘no problem’, as he allows himself to get dragged away from the counter. You laugh as well and begin to turn away to work on their drinks. You were the only barista for the closing night shift today.
After handing Leni and Hanley their drinks, you lean against the counter as you all chat about your days. Leni is venting about her English 1301 essay she needs to complete. One hand is holding her coffee, that she had poured the 5 extra shots of espresso into, and the other is waving around in the air. “It’s 2 pages TOO long.”, she sighs exasperatedly. Drama queen.
On the other hand, Hanley is mostly quiet. Listening intently to Leni while sipping his vanilla frappuccino. He speaks about his coach and his teammates once in a while, but his schedule remains relatively consistent compared to Leni.
You love moments like these. Where it’s just the three of you without the weight of anything else on your shoulders. No NYU scholarship kid. No Spiderlily. Just (y/n), and their best friends.
The cafe is quiet now, with only the three of you left. It is 8pm, just about closing time. You sigh softly, now beginning the closing routine. As you clean up the cafe, you glance over to Leni, who’s sketching something on a napkin, and Hanley, who’s absorbed in his phone. Just for a moment, everything feels normal.
With the closing routine completed, you lock the cafe up. The metallic click of the lock hit your ears, signaling that the door was properly closed and secure for the night. Leni stood beside you, watching as you locked the door, while Hanley stood a couple steps farther away- adjusting his bags on his shoulders.
Just as you had removed your key from the lock and turned to face them, your Gizmo buzzed on your wrist, notifying you of yet another anomaly. You quickly glance at the watch that was now lighting up beneath your hoodie’s sleeve. Ignoring the watch, you give Leni a knowing look before glancing over to Hanley who was now yawning. His breath was visible with the cold crisp air.
“Heyyy, oh my gosh. Completely forgot. I have a huge project to work on tonight that I really need to focus on. Rain check on our study group tonight?”, you ask hesitantly while slowly backing up, ready to run to your apartment.
Leni, always being your cover, quickly grabs Hanley’s arm and begins dragging him in the opposite direction. “Yep! No worries, Hanley and I can just work on other stuff. Isn’t that right, Leyley.”
Before Hanley can respond, Leni is already pulling him farther away. His eyebrows are scrunchies in confusion, but is accepting of his fate. Leni waves in your direction as the two slowly get farther and farther away.
“Bye! We’ll see you tomorrow!”, she waves excitedly. Hanley looks back as well, throwing up a small wave and smile.
Once the two were far enough, you rapidly whip yourself around and book it towards your apartment. The cold air was sharp against your face as you ran home. While running, you pull back the sleeve of your hoodie to read your Gizmo that was continuing to buzz for your attention.
ATTENTION: ANOMALY DETECTED- HIGH PRIORITY
The screen flickered with a brief glitch, just for a moment, before the alert stabilized. Your heart sped up a bit more and a knot tightened in your chest. “High priority?”, you whispered to yourself, your breath visible in the cold air. It has been a long while since you had such an urgent anomaly from the Spider-Society. You were grateful Leni was able to pull Hanley away so efficiently.
Busting into your apartment, your bag tumbled across the room as you swung yourself into your bedroom. You quickly rip your spidersuit from your hidden wardrobe compartment and throw it on. The suit is sleek and form-fitting. Vibrant crimson web lines flow out from the center of your chest, with patterns similar to that of a spider lily at the base of your boots. Your spider logo is black, like the rest of your suit, with scarlet accents and covers a majority of your chest and shoulders with its long legs and stylized body.
With a quick tug on your mask, you flatten the fabric around your neck and head towards your back apartment window. It creaks as you push it open, letting a gust of the cold night’s air. Luckily you could not feel much of it through the suit, as it was well insulated with its own warmer. You hop over the window’s sill, gripping to the wall, and push it back shut.
Dangling off of the wall, 5 stories up in the air, you check your Gizmo again to locate the anomaly. Downtown. Not terribly far.
You jumped off of the building and shot a string of web from your wrist, your body twisting as you glided through the city. The New York’s city lights twinkled around you as you flipped past each window. As much as you loved to admire your city, you couldn’t help but focus on the alert on your wrist. A high-priority anomaly was never an easy night. They were world destroying. You had to take care of this anomaly and fast.
As you swung into the heart of the city, the air and your chest felt heavier. It was almost suffocating. You jumped up, landing on a nearby building of the location, and found the anomaly. It was a large, iridescent vortex of crackling energy. The area around it was distorted, almost as if it was being sucked into it. The vortex pulsed and projected streaks of colors that flickered erratically.
Your jaw became slightly ajar at the sight, as a dark clawed hand gripped the vortex’s edge. Almost as if it was trying to pry itself out from its gravitational pull. Soon enough, the shadow ripped itself from the vortex. Its body glitched erratically, similarly to that of the vortex itself. It had no distinct features, just the empty silhouette of a creature, and eyes that were nothing but narrow slits. The creature howled, its voice raspy and defective.
“Jesus Christ.”, you muttered.
Just as you spoke, another clawed creature ripped itself from the vortex that was soon followed by another. Within just moments, multiple of these shadows had clambered through. You swallowed hard, examining the situation.
“God… Ah, fuck it.”
You flick your wrist, shooting yourself to the closest shadow creature. They had begun to scramble down the street. With a quick dive, you drive your feet into the nearest creature. Curb stomping them as hard as you could. The creature screeched at the impact before glitching bright colors and dispersing into a black mist.
“One down… One too many to go…”, you say looking at your surrounding vicinity that was now infected with these things.
You barely get a moment before another shadow lunges at you from behind. Your spidey sense had activated, causing you to jump up quickly. Its claws sliced the concrete street that you were just standing on a second ago, leaving a large scratch mark ingrained into it. You managed to land on a light post, but another lunged at you off of the nearby building. Your body twisted as you jumped, attempting to dodge all of these creatures' attacks. Just one hit might render you unconscious.
Hanging on the side of a metal balcony, you watch as three more creatures advance toward you. While there were no distinctive figures to them, it almost felt as if they were predators- hunting their prey. Their eyes were locked onto you. Their movements seemed calculated, oddly robotic, and trained onto you.
The first shadow attacked from below, scaling up the building quickly- tearing into the brick as it raced up. You jumped off of the creaky metal balcony, getting away just in time before webbing yourself up towards another building. As you jumped, you twisted your body around to shoot a web directly at its supposed face. The web hit, covering its face in the sticky strands. It immediately reached up to claw it off of its face, releasing the creature from the building and causing it to fall. A glitchy hiss echoed your ears as the creature was falling. It was not long before the creature hit the ground, dispersing into a glitch of bright colors and black mist- just like the first one.
Another creature advanced towards you, leaping off of the previous creature's body right before it had hit the concrete. Swinging on your web, you redirected your momentum to make a tight turn and kick the creature with all of your weight. The force from your kick sent the creature through a wall as it yelled and dispersed.
“So sorry tax-payers!”, you yelled out, still swinging and webbing the creatures as you moved by.
You continued to take them down as quickly as possible. All it seemed to take was one good hit to destroy them, but there were just so many. You had to handle it by closing the vortex.
As you were thinking, you could hear a shriek cutting through the yells of the shadows. It was sharp and fearful. Your head quickly snapped in the direction of the scream; your spidey sense rang. Abandoning the creatures in front of you, you immediately zipped towards the voice.
There, a young woman stood shaking on the side of the street. Her phone was raised, held tightly in her hands as it recorded a creature about to pounce on her.
“Run!”, you yelled at her, but she did not move. Her eyes glistened with fascination but her body shook with fear.
“I said MOVE!”, you yelled once again, charging at her full speed.
The creature was just about to pounce, its claws ready to tear into the woman. You quickly shot out a web and yanked her back towards you. The woman flew across the pavement, still attached to your web. Her beanie had slipped off, but otherwise she was still intact with her phone in her hand.
Where the creature had pounced, was left a small crater in the sidewalk. Cracked and dented. That was going to need quite a bit of fixing.
“Seriously? Risking it all just for what? A TikTok?”, you questioned the woman with a breathy angry sigh, grabbing her beanie and slapping it into her chest. “Now GO.”, you demanded.
“But I-”
Another shadow creature began to approach.
“GO!”
The woman nodded at this and quickly scampered off at the sight of it. The creature screamed once again, charging at you like a bull.
“Always giving me more work.”, you muttered to yourself.
As the creature charged, you jumped up and shot two webs on the street below you. Once it had ran under you, you used the momentum of your webs to slam yourself down onto it.
You continued to take down more shadow creatures as you made your way back towards the vortex that was now pulsating rapidly.
“Okay, Spiderlily.”, you spoke to yourself. “How do we close a giant neon pulsating shadow puking multiversal portal? The answer is totally obvious. Came in the spidey handbook!”
Landing on the same building as the vortex, you look up at it. Analyzing it.
“Think, Spiderlily. Think.”, you whispered, staring deep into its colors.
It did not look like your typical portal. It was cracked, ripped- unstable with frayed ends. Everything about it was simply unnatural. It throbbed violently and seemed to distort reality itself. This anomaly was different from your usual ones. You couldn’t open a portal and kick this portal into it. There had to be a way to reverse it. You just didn’t know how.
Eventually, you decide that any attempt is better than no attempt. So, you began to pull at the edges of the vortex with your hands and attempt to physically shut it. Sure, there is probably a better solution, but there wasn’t much time and your options were looking relatively limited.
Good news though, the vortex was moving. It was closing with the force you were putting into it. Feeling it slowly inch, you began to pull harder. Soon enough you were close enough to grab the other edge of it with your hand and were now able to pull both ends towards the center.
“Come on…Come on!”, you grunted through your teeth.
The vortex continued to thrash against you, colors flying out of it as some left over shadows shrieked in the distance. You were nearly there, with just a bit more you would be able to forcibly shut it closed.
Just as you were about to give the last pull, you saw a flash of movement come from behind you and a ringing in your head. Within a split second, you feel a kick on your back. With no time to react, you fall into the vortex.
You felt a surge of panic as you were kicked into the vortex. As you fell, you could see a humanoid shape stand at the end of the vortex you had just fell through. It was glitchy, shadowy, just like the creatures you fought before. However, it held a more sinister smile to it.
Your surroundings dissolved into a blur of glitchy bright lights and colors as the world around you fractured into jagged shards. Your senses were overwhelmed, caught in the series of spiraling portals. Each one flew past you like windows into other dimensions. Worlds you didn’t recognize.
Soon enough, the vortex had spit you out. You tumbled across yet another rooftop, the gravel scratching your sides as you rolled. It took a moment, but you eventually were able to push yourself up- groaning as you held your side. Definitely bruised.
You looked around at your surroundings. The colors of this world were relatively similar, but somehow darker. As you stood up, you immediately checked your Gizmo. The screen was cracked, a bit glitchy, but still responded when you touched the screen. You sighed at this and immediately looked to see what universe you were pushed into. Hopefully, if you were lucky, it would be one of your other spider friends.
As soon as you clicked the screen for it, the Gizmo beeped.
ERROR: UNREGISTERED DIMENSION
“...What?”, you whispered. It glitches again.
You attempt to recalibrate it, however nothing seems to work. You continue to get the same notification. Bewildered, you slap the watch on your wrist. Every dimension is registered, even if the Spider-Society does not have all of the spiders from each one. This was supposed to be impossible.
A wave of anxiety washes over you after minutes of attempting to recalibrate it. Your knees were buckling, realizing that there was no way to fix it without any tools. Getting back was going to prove more difficult.
“No, no, no, no!”, you yelled as you continued to slap it- not knowing what else to do. Your breath quickened as you stared in disbelief. You were stranded.
Your heart pounded in your ears at this thought as you turned your attention to your surroundings. The buildings were similar to New York, but the streets sounded different. The air was heavier, thicker. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you like some sort of thick fog. The architecture around you was so similar yet so different. Everything was just darker, as if encased in an evercasting shadow. You glanced across the city skyline, your eyes catching onto a beam of light- piercing the foggy night sky. A bat logo.
Shit.
Next ➔
A/N: yay! so happy to finally push out the first chapter. hopefully i keep up the motivation to get this finished. i haven't written creatively in a really long time, so i am a bit rusty. i am also a very slow writer which does not help my case lol. anyway, i hope yall liked it! i think im still tryna get a grip on spiderlily's character, so if you guys have any suggestions for this fic- i am very open to it!! i appreciate all comments, notes, and reposts dearly. <3 this was also inspired by a bunch of fic's i have read in the past and @/yannawayne, so please go check them out!
#SnS#dc comics#dcu#damian wayne#damian al ghul#robin#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x y/n#x reader#spiderman#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#spider reader#batman#bruce wayne#batfamily#not canon#probably ooc
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so we (and by we, i mean the very specific overlap of jews and nerds among whom i make my home) talk a lot about how tolkien's dwarves, in both the books and movies, were likely influenced by certain jewish stereotypes. obsessed with gold/wealth, secretive (especially about their language and religion), refugees from their ancestral home, portrayed with big, sometimes hooked, noses and interesting facial hair, and most specifically: the favourite little meow meows of one particular god, causing them to be shunned and persecuted by other races and creeds. this is likely unintentional, coming from the subconscious of tolkien in the same way orcs were "based on mongols" (ew colonialism) and activating subconscious biases/stereotypes in the people who designed the dwarves for the movies. it's subtext, albeit subtext that influenced the next eighty years of fantasy.
but what i don't see much discussion of is the fact that in terry pratchett's discworld, it's intentional. terry pratchett's dwarves are, more or less, jews.
carrot is a human adopted by dwarves, based on human standards. but within dwarf culture, he IS a dwarf. specifically, he has undergone specific rituals and memorised certain passages, making him LEGALLY a dwarf. this is basically how conversion works in judaism. indeed, as in judaism, it's considered rude to even mention that carrot is six feet tall and obviously wasn't born into the culture he has adopted.
the dwarves also have internal rifts - there are a group of 'orthodox' dwarves who consider the dwarves in ankh-morpork (who have adopted other customs and don't follow traditional roles) not to be dwarves at all, and don't recognise carrot as a dwarf for the same reason. they believe that the way to be a dwarf is to live in an all-dwarf community and follow their traditional rules, while other dwarves believe they need to change with the times and integrate (at least somewhat) with larger society. jewish as fuck.
there's also the interaction of dwarves with gender. when cherie comes out as female (which isn't a recognised gender by dwarvish society) she is ostracised for taking on the feminine roles common to other discworld races. however, she could never THINK of cutting off her beard, because she is still a dwarf. i see parallels with women in judaism taking on roles traditionally considered 'masculine' (e.g., as rabbis, wearing tallit and kippot) and the acceptance of queer people into jewish communities. there's lots of great discussion about cherie as a trans character on tumblr, btw.
finally, something that particularly strikes me is the line from carrot in tfe, where he says that the biggest dwarf city on the disc is ankh-morpork. obviously all diaspora communities can relate, but it's really something to know that new york is the city with the most jews in the world (960k to jerusalem's 570k. btw, 3rd is LA!).
i just love that, again, consciously or unconsciously, pratchett incorporated more positive elements of jewish culture into his portrayal of the dwarves.
#gnu terry pratchett#discworld#jumblr#jewish#judaism#tolkien#dwarves#the hobbit#lord of the rings#the silmarillion#carrot ironfoundersson#cherie littlebottom#cheery littlebottom#the origin of dwarves in tolkien is jewish as fuck#also i love orthodox jews! y'all are so cool!! i hope this post doesn't come off as critical of orthodoxy#not bringing up the conflict between trolls and dwarves in the main post bc... yk... but like. it's there. it's VERY there.#also i do not want shit from people for mentioning jerusalem. it's a fun fact. read my fucking bio and then shout at me.#feels like i'm poking a hornet's nest by jewposting but we shall see#long post
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