#I wanna tag all the cookies in this but I just can’t!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sundove88 · 2 years ago

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Cookie Run Kingdom: A Cheesy Vow Renewal (Based on Tangled Ever After)

This is a gift for @thetropicalfairy/ @interstellarwizard2019 for being such a great moot! Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie, Prince Professor Macaroni Cookie, Mac N Cheese Cookie, Fusilli Cookie, Ravioli Cookie, and Bakewell Cookie belong to her. King Parmesan Cookie, King Elderberry Cookie, and Queen ChocoPearl Cookie belong to me. Btw, this is based on an RP we did. Also, this will be split into two parts, so enjoy it while you can! Here’s Part 1!

Synopsis: Earthbread is in a festive mood as everyone gathers for the royal vow renewals of Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie and Prince Professor Macaroni Cookie. However, when the Brave Gang and the happy couple’s son Mac N Cheese Cookie, as flower girl and ring bearers respectively; lose the rings, a frenzied search and recovery mission gets underway. As the desperate heroes try to get back the rings before anyone discovers they’re missing, they leave behind a trail of disastrous chaos that includes sky lanterns, a flock of cream doves, a berry juice barrel barricade and a very sticky finale. Will the friends save the day and make it to the chapel in time? And will they ever get Macaroni’s face right?

It was morning in the city of Parfaedia, and Walnut Cookie and her father Almond Cookie as well as their friends Latte Cookie and Cream Puff Cookie began to film a brand new episode for their vlog, “The Parfaedia Scoop”. As the camera began rolling, Almond began the episode. “This is the story of how Latte and I lost our jobs.” He said, sarcastically. “Dad!” Walnut replied, knowing what he said was untrue. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! It was one of the biggest days of our lives- our friends’ Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie and Prince Professor Macaroni Cookie’s vow renewal day.” The detective said, recounting the exciting events of that day.

(A day earlier…)

“It was the biggest celebration to hit the Golden Cheese Kingdom since the former’s return to her throne!” Latte Cookie said as she remembered what happened. The Golden Cheese Kingdom was as festive as it could get, with cookies such as Carrot Cookie and Beet Cookie helping everyone get the reception area spread out, and Roll Cake and Kiwi decorating the getaway car for the happy couple to drive off into the sunset with. “Everyone was dying to get a glimpse of em!” Walnut added, smiling as she recounted the happenings of the event.

At the same time DJ Cookie was fine tuning their turntable for the reception, and a young Cheesebird was selling insect related wedding merchandise, as Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie loved bugs. “Everything was perfect, just like they always dreamt it would be.” Mused Latte Cookie, swooning over how amazing that day had been. A few Cheesebirds had been tying up the royal tapestry in the town square, which had Macaroni Cookie’s face accidentally messed up. “Yeah, everything was perf- Oh, come on! They still can't get his face right?!” Almond said as he remembered the embarrassing picture. “It was a magical day. And everything went just as planned.” Cream Puff Cookie replied as her eyes glittered, imagining the Dark Cacaoan Watchers on the roof and sides of the chapel, keeping watch over the ceremony. “Well... Almost.” Almond Replied, knowing that wasn’t exactly true.

Inside the royal chapel, Muscle Cookie played the organ as he smiled, with everyone waiting patiently for the ceremony to truly begin. As Gingerbrave and Co. walked down the aisle, Strawberry Cookie, Walnut Cookie, and Cream Puff Cookie tossed desert rose petals from their woven baskets while everyone took care of the rings- especially Mac N Cheese Cookie, the couple’s son. “This is so exciting!” Strawberry Cookie said as she flung petals all around her. “You bet, Strawberry.” Chili Pepper Cookie said as she brushed a petal away. Suddenly, everyone gasped and turned to look behind themselves (Most notable examples being Raspberry Cookie, Blueberry Cookie, Bumbleberry Cookie, Cranberry Cookie, Shining Glitter Cookie, Vagabond Cookie, The Ginkgoblin Boss, and Stink Eye Tortuga) as the bride, Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie, appeared at the end of the chapel; with golden butterflies carrying the train of her dress- with the Ancient Healer Pure Vanilla Cookie, the lucky groom Prince Professor Macaroni Cookie, and Pure Vanilla’s best friend White Lily Cookie beaming in happiness at the sight. Knowing that it was time for the big moment, Muscle Cookie threw an ax at Mint Choco Cookie’s Head. “GAH!” He yelped as ducked, hastily beginning to play “Here Comes The Bride” on his violin.

King Parmesan Cookie, Mozzarella’s father, flew down to her and bowed. “You ready, our darling?” He asked, offering her his arm to walk her down. “You bet I am.” She said, before her mother, Golden Cheese Cookie, offered her hand. “Let’s not keep your hubby waiting!” The golden sovereign said before she and her husband took their daughter’s arm and hand, and walked her to the altar. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry…” whispered Dark Cacao Cookie to himself as he wiped away the oncoming tears with his handkerchief. “I know how you feel, friend.” Hollyberry Cookie said as she sipped from her glass. “You’re doing great.” White Lily replied as she herself dabbed away her own tears.

Pure Vanilla, as the leader of the Vanilla Kingdom and the master of Ceremonies, had never seen a bride so lovely as the Golden Princess herself. “Wow.” He replied. Macaroni, the Princess Professor’s Husband, felt his heart skip a beat the moment he saw her. “Wow!” He said, dazzled. Poison Mushroom Cookie, despite not being on the guest list, couldn’t resist the bride’s beauty. WOOOOOOW!!!” They exclaimed, but not before they got shoved away by Eclair Cookie, and they threw a mushroom into the middle of the altar.

Eclair couldn’t contain his happiness. Oh my goodness gracious…!” He sniffled as he blew into a napkin. Tea Knight Cookie was also stunned. “A wonderful sight; isn’t it?” He asked. Mozzarella Cookie reached the altar, and the ceremony began. Pure Vanilla then spoke, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the renewal of Princess Professor Mozzarella Cookie and Prince Professor Macaroni Cookie’s vows in remarriage.” “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” Strawberry Cookie said as she Started to cry.

Suddenly, the mushroom’s Spores drifted past Chili Pepper Cookie’s face, and it tickled. “It sure is, Strawb-Ahh… Ahh… Ahh… AAAACHOOO!!” She Sneezed. But what she realized until seconds later, was that she sneezed the royal wedding rings away on accident, and they sailed out the door. Cream Puff and Walnut saw as well. “THE WEDDING RINGS!!” They cried out in horror. Madeleine Cookie had witnessed the sneeze as well. “This is terrible!” He exclaimed. “We have to get them back somehow!” Espresso Cookie added. But Princess Cookie and Tiger Lily Cookie had seen the rings fly away as well, and they knew they had to do something about it.

However, Chili Pepper imagined Pure Vanilla Cookie asking for the rings much later in the ceremony. “And together they’ll be rewed as husband and wife in everlasting, crispy peace.” Pure Vanilla would finish. The gang would freeze in place, knowing what was coming up next. “May I have the rings?” Pure Vanilla would ask. Mozzarella Cookie would gasp at the bare pillow; and so would Jungleberry Cookie and Royalberry Cookie, followed by Dark Choco Cookie and Whipped Cream Cookie, and soon the entire chapel would be gasping in shock. “Oh no…!” Strawberry Cookie would say. “Those were my Nonna’s wedding rings!!” Fusilli Cookie, Macaroni Cookie’s mother, would cry out. “This is horrible…” Pure Vanilla Cookie would state. “The wedding can’t go on without them!” White Lily Cookie would add.

Hollyberry Cookie and her husband Elderberry Cookie would do a double spit take, followed by them going, “WHAT?!” Dark Cacao Cookie would simply let out a “No…!” While his wife ChocoPearl Cookie faints. “I’ve waited 20 years for this day and it’s RUINED!!” Golden Cheese Cookie would say as she bursts into tears. “I know…!” King Parmesan would say as he comforts his sobbing wife. Then, a Cheesebird Guard would cry out, “The Kingdom is Lost!!!” Followed by Captain Caviar Cookie, who would be flipping out immediately. “THIS IS A LOST CAUSE!!” He would roar. Oyster Cookie would also be sorely upset by what had just happened. “I was looking forward to a beautiful ceremony, but all my expectations just flew out the window!!” She would say before fainting.

Black Raisin would be screeching. “We’re gonna be on the news for all the wrong reasons!!!” She would say. WildBerry would also start overreacting. “The wedding’s gonna be called off!!!” He would say. Crunchy Chip would pipe up. “We’re all gonna die!!!” He would wail. “Everybody…” Pancake Cookie would begin. “PANIC!!!” Gumball and Cherry Cookie would finish simultaneously. The entire chapel would start screaming, and before the gang knew it, The entire Golden Cheese Kingdom would be exploding in a literal blaze of unceremonious glory.

Luckily, the ceremony was still going on in the present, so the gang knew they had to do something. “And the mutual respect which they bring to their life together…” Pure Vanilla continued. As Pure Vanilla spoke, the ones who had seen the rings fly away made the ever so obvious excuse that they were heading to the bathroom. “The union of two cookies…” Pure Vanilla continued. Then, they bolted out the chapel door and after the rings. The Brave Gang quickly ran outside the chapel, but the rings went two ways and rolled off the patio!

“Ok. We’ve gotta split up. Strawberry, Wizard, Princess, Cream Puff, Espresso, and I will go after Mozz’s ring. The rest of you go after Macaroni’s!” Gingerbrave said. “Ok! Catch you later!” Chili Pepper Cookie said as the two teams jumped down to the courtyard below.

In said courtyard, Cookies and non cookie folks were preparing for the menu for that afternoon’s wedding reception. Mozzarella’s ring had bounced into a pot of pumpkin soup, and Gingerbrave hurried to get it. “Ok, I’ve got everything ready for the reception. I can see those hungry guests any minute-!” Carrot Cookie said, before seeing Gingerbrave grab the ring out of the pot. “GAH!” She replied, and Team A dropped the ring, and away it bounced from table to table. “Don’t let it get away!” Beet Cookie exclaimed. The servants scrambled around, but Wizard managed to pin the ring against an ice sculpture of two butterflies flying together in love, which was made by Snow Sugar Cookie.

At the same time, Team B was chasing after Macaroni’s ring, which was rolling down the street. “Come back, little ring!” Chili Pepper said. “We need you for the ceremony!” Madeleine shouted. But Chili Pepper, Madeleine, and Butter Tiger were so busy chasing after the ring, they didn’t notice the commemorative clothing and makeup carts. They ended up crashing into all of them, and the trio came out wearing a bit of everything, including pink dresses and hats over the tuxedos they were supposed to wear for that day.

“Hello Ladies!” Licorice Cookie said as he made a kissy face. “Not now, Old Rags Cookie!” Chili Pepper said as she punched him away, only to see the ring nestled underneath a cart. Walnut Cookie almost reached it due to her size! But at the same time, as Team A was getting Wizard’s staff off of the ice sculpture; the ring bounced away again, and a mole servant had knocked into the table and sent the ice sculpture flying. And said ice sculpture landed on the end of a cart, launching Team B into the air! “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

Inside, Pure Vanilla continued the ceremony. “…Held in reverence, dignity, honor, respect…” just as he said that; Poison Mushroom Cookie knew something was about to happen. And lo and behold; Team B flew by the window. “Lookie!” They pointed. “HELP!!!” Team B screamed as they flew by the Chapel Window. Luckily; everyone else was paying attention to the ceremony; so they didn’t notice (Even the watchers, who were desperately trying not to cry). Chiffon the Cake Hound whimpered and Poison Mushroom sighed, knowing they were the only ones to witness the anomaly. Team B landed in the Getaway car, which was going to take Mozzarella Cookie and Macaroni Cookie away to their second honeymoon. “Ow! Guys! T-T-The ring!” Custard III replied as he saw Macaroni’s ring pass by. Tiger Lily pointed at the rolling trinket. “After… ring!” She said. Chili Pepper then yelled, “Step on it!!” They then drove after the ring, hoping to catch it…

#fanfic #crack fic #one shot #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run Ovenbreak #crk #crob #tangled ever after #I wanna tag all the cookies in this but I just can’t!!

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sttoru · 7 months ago

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #sukuna smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader

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bitchesuntitled · 6 months ago

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Wrong Delivery

Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.

A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️

🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹

Divider provided by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist||AO3 Link

As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this.

It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.

“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.

“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”

“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.

“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”

“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”

“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”

You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.

Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.

“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”

“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.

“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”

You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.

“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”

—

“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”

“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”

“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?

“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”

Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:

“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”

Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.

“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m… uh… I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.

You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.

“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”

“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs.

“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!

“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

—

You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.

“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.

JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s

You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.

You: K.

You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.

“Hello,” you snap.

“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”

“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.

“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”

“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”

“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”

“Sure about that?”

“I got them for you.” Joel argues.

“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”

“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“

“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”

“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table. “Why are you here?”

“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”

You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.

“Told you.”

“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”

“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.

“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”

He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.

“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.

Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.

“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”

“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.

“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.

You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.

Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.

“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”

You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.

“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”

He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.

“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”

Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”

He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”

Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.

“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”

His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.

“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”

Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.

“Only want you,” he sighs.

—

You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.

“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.

“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”

“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.

“Oh shut up!”

“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”

“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.

“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.

“Really?”

“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”

#jettsflora&faunachallenge #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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afterglowsainz · 26 days ago

Text

we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships

a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗

—

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername home sweet home

tagged lissiemackintosh

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username dry ass caption

username girlie is NOT happy to be back

username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭

username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical

declanmurray you can at least pretend

yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to

username pls 😭

username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK

oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️

username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?

username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain

patriciooward have fun!

yourusername <3333

username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭

liked by yourusername, milesbaldwin and others

patriciooward can never say no to a side quest

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username NORBIIII 🥰

username every photo was whiplash after whiplash

username incredibly cute and incredibly hot

username don’t push girls

username i am that cookie actually

username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism

yourusername boys 🥹

patriciooward miss you!

username no they are my parents

username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure

liked by patriciooward, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽

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username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!

username patoooo 💖

username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico

username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩

username pato and y/n in mexico is everything

username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time

username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)

username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳

patriciooward ☀️

yourusername ☀️✨✨💫

liked by indygossip, f1wags and others

f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n

it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend

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username not oscar catching strays 😭😭

f1gossip 🤷🏽‍♀️

username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗

username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username someone check on oscar 😩

username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄

username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on

username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them

username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar

username because they’re meant to be 😭😭

username in another life perhaps!

liked by yourusername, lissiemackintosh and others

patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️

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username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this

username THE DRESS

username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation

username okay don’t rub it in 😭

miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨

patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa

miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see

username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭

declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh

milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes

patriciooward …

lissiemackintosh 😮

username speechless at this

username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽

yourusername beautiful 🤍

patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)

yourusername warm enough, you?

patriciooward clear skies

username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰

liked by georgerussel63, exgirlfriend and others

oscarpiastri happy place ❤️

tagged exgirlfriend

comments for this post have been disabled

—

taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec

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azullumi · 1 month ago

Text

WHERE WE LIE ON THE EDGE OF SUMMER !!

premise— you didn’t think that being neighbors and childhood friends with scaramouche would come with many things. for one, you have a sassy loser pathetically in love with you. content tags & warning — pairing: scaramouche (w/ gender-neutral reader) | modern!au, childhood friends, puppy love, scaramouche can’t skip stones, secret pining (for scaramouche), scaramouche words of reassurance and act of service advocate, fluff, word vomit, unspoken confessions | wc: 4.8k ; one-shot

notes from a jellyfish — (repost) first fic for the eat your heart out event!! nearly lost my mind writing this, but enjoy!!

SCARAMOUCHE is a liar.

No truths spill from his mouth, that much is certain.

He could never understand how poets write the beauty of a single sway of grass in the wind nor see how artists condense a single moment into a small stroke of a brush and find it breathtaking when it will all be bound to rot, but he tells others that he does anyway because he is a liar.

His words would bloom withered in his mouth, a shameful garden of ache, and the petals would never feel the lingering warmth in his lips.

But he never liked the heat, the suffocating warmth, always preferring the winter cold. But it was summer when he first met you and he remembers your laughter as you threw pebbles across the water, your smile gently shaped by the warm sun.

i. standing in between here and there

“Are you okay?”

There was only a grimace of annoyance on his face when you turned to briefly look at him.

It was summer once more and Scaramouche dreaded summer more than anyone could, much more so now that he’s spending this hot day with a stranger—a child of his aunt’s friend, who is also their neighbor. The combination of sitting under all this heat and being forced to get along with someone he doesn't know is deadly. He can't even remember what their name was. Perhaps they had uttered it once only for it to be lost among the pebbled path or to be drowned in the river.

He raises his eyebrow at you, “Is it not obvious enough?”

“What’s with this sassy lost child? Jeez.” You mumble more words underneath your breath, something along the lines of him being grumpy. The summer breeze brushes across your skin as you stare at the river, contemplating. Perhaps you were debating if this stone will reach farther than the frog who jumped across just now, or maybe you’re just thinking of the boy—who your mother had asked you to get along with—sitting silently on the grass behind you since earlier.

You throw one stone over the water. It bounces once and twice, the surface responding with small ripples, sliding across before eventually sinking. You do this many times and he watches you every single time, eyes seemingly unable to look away. But curiosity is a hungry monster that consumed him, so he speaks to rid of the itch that claws at his throat:

“What are you doing?”

“Stone skipping,” you paused, witnessing the stone jump only once before reuniting with its old friends at the bottom of the river, “wanna try?” You blink at him, waiting for his answer. There was silence then came a grumble. He stood up from his seat with an expression that makes it seem like you forced him to do so.

You handed the boy a pebble, but he had to stare at it for a few seconds before he took it from your hand. You waited with an expectant gaze, your mind somehow anticipating that he’ll do better than you—Scaramouche looks like he’s good at everything that he does.

Oh, but how your expectations came crumbling down the way your breakfast cookie fell into your glass of milk.

“Go on, throw it.” You had told him and you didn’t know that he was that much of an obedient child because he really did throw it. Just not aimed at the water. He threw it like how one would pass a ball to a friend; his stone didn’t even graze nor come near the surface of the water.

But Scaramouche had the same perseverance of a rock against the wind. He picked up a pebble and threw it once more; this time, it is now aimed at the water but it only went straight ahead, sinking slowly to the bottom.

You don’t think you’re in the right time to say anything, so you just stood still and watched the struggle of a young boy who had a small stone in his hand, with the occasional rustling of leaves as the breeze passes and with the sound of a splash prodding at the silence that envelops you like a familiar companion. You wanted to go and teach him how he’s supposed to do it, that there is a certain angle that he has to reach and he’s not supposed to throw it just as it is, but your mind seems to tell you not to so you didn’t. It’s all quite a spectacular watch, after all, it was as if you were watching your favorite show at 7 PM after waiting hours for it to go on air.

No matter how many times Scaramouche tries to throw and make the pebble bounce across the river, it always just sinks the first time it comes into contact with the surface. He’s silent, but the frustration is evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the increasing aggression in his movements.

“Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” You were the first to break the silence—your words seem to have stabbed his unyielding spirit as he groaned and just went back to where he was sitting. An act of surrender after struggling for so long.

”You don’t want to try again?”

“Why should I?” The pebble will only sink anyway. What’s the point of doing something when you know you’ll fail in the end?

“Come on, just try it once more.” But you were a stubborn one and Scaramouche doesn’t have much of a choice, not when you’re already right in front of him, taking his hands into yours and pulling for him to stand up. You drag him back to where he was earlier, still holding one of his hands even as you pick up a pebble right at your feet.

“Here, do it like this.” Your hand is warm against his, gentle, in contrast to the crumpled look on his face. You guide him, saying words that he can’t process that much as he’s way too focused trying to fan the flames that danced across his cheeks.

He throws, in the same angle and form that you have guided him into before you had stepped back to watch, holding hope that he’ll succeed this time in the same hand you held him. The stone doesn’t immediately celebrate with his other failed attempts at the bottom as it bounces against the surface.

You cheered, the sound of laughter slipping out of your lips as it seemed to tickle the insides of your mouth the more you held it in. There’s a certain feeling of warmth that washed over him when the melody rings inside his head. The roughness of the feeling, sharp in its unfamiliar edges, is akin to a huge wave that crashed into his form, but the comfort of it as it submerges him reminds him of the afternoon light shining on the floors of his home.

“It only bounced once.” He says, trying to downplay it all to get rid of the feeling that consumes him.

“But it did. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” The feeling only seemed to grow stronger as if it’s feeding on your every word, being fuelled by your gaze, by your smile, by the sound of your voice. He tries to drown it all by thinking of other thoughts, diving into a different topic instead, and all the while, copying you as you resume your stone-skipping activities.

“Do you not get bored doing this?”

You hum, contemplating for a few seconds before you answer: “I think everything is a little more fun when you do it during summer,” you beam at him, then return your gaze back to the river before you throw, “Like this, especially when you’re doing it with someone.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. This childlike mindset—although, for one, you and him are just a pair of children, playing beside the river, feeling the heat prickling against your skin. The bugs only grow louder in each second that passes as the afternoon slowly comes to the pass, replaced with the onset of the evening. The sky is painted with various colors mixed together but all in harmony, oranges and reds mixed with something golden, tainted with purples.

And yet, he would always ask himself, what is even nice about summer?

“I don’t know why but maybe I’m just saying that because I like summer,” you say as if you had read his mind, as if you had noticed the lingering question on his face that asks you why. “Do you like summer?”

It takes him a moment to answer, letting the orchestra of the wind against leaves, of the stone splashing against water, of the cicada’s song last longer than his silence. He could have said no, he could have disagreed with you and argued with your answer. He could have said that he despised summer for its heat and bugs. But he didn’t and that was the problem.

“I… like summer.” There are razors in his tongue as he speaks, the utterance of the sentence making him bleed internally as he bites on his words. Perhaps the hesitation in his tone betrays his words or perhaps it was the twitch of his lips paired with the contort of his forehead that made it appear as untruthful as it actually was.

Even so, you were convinced. You gleam at him, eyes bright with excitement: “Really? You don’t seem to be one to like summer.”

“I do, why would you say that?”

You shrug, “You just seem like a winter person to me.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, that was the whole truth and the actual lie was him saying that he likes summer. He still doesn’t understand himself for saying such words—maybe it’s the heat getting into his head or maybe it's the sound of your laughter that plays over and over inside his mind.

It feels like having a crush—He slaps himself mentally at the notion.

“We should always spend summer together then.” You’ll say, watching a pebble bounce across until it reaches the other side. A feat you have only achieved twice—the second time being this moment. You silently rejoiced for your success, clenching your hand into a fist.

He responds, “So we could just watch stones bounce on water the whole time?” and this made you chuckle before you refute: “Unless you want to, but there are tons of other things to do during summer.”

This went on and on: you, just listing out whatever activities you could do and saying whatever, and him, who listens to every word you say and would give you short responses. It is not until dusk had ended and the evening came, and now, you’re standing by the doorway, saying your goodbyes to the boy who’s terrible at stone-skipping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I do.”

You laugh, “Liar.”

ii. take a step closer, won’t you?

Summer came to visit like an old friend you had known for years.

It’s a fleeting companion, a familiar stranger bound to disappear, gone as the wind carries your scent. The sun kisses your skin very delicately, the grass will hold your being as if you were its own child, and you will miss its embrace the moment it slips out of your hands quietly. But there’s a strange comfort welling up in your heart knowing that you will feel it once more in time and you won’t have to spend a lifetime missing it—or him.

“What are you being so slow for?” The dark-haired man stops from his track and turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown. “The sun will set before we even reach the river.” It’s the mayor of complaintown, throwing his usual complaints at you. You could only roll your eyes before you run to him, catching up to his pace before the two of you resume walking.

Scaramouche, somehow, kept his promise. Although it’s not exactly a promise because the two of you didn’t make any, he did keep his word of spending every summer with you. And right now, you’re in the middle of walking through the forest near your home—an adventure, you may say, despite the fact that you have taken this path multiple times already and you’re just returning to the place where the two of you usually spend your moments under the summer sun.

The gentle murmurs of the rushing water reach your ears, eventually getting louder as the two of you draw close to your destination. Not sooner than later, a familiar scene comes into view: the small river—a stream, to be exact—in all its glory displayed before you, a path of water stretching from here to there across your line of vision, carrying memories of when the two of you played around it.

There’s a small smile embedded on your lips. It’s the thought that it's only the two of you that knows of this place that makes you warm—it’s like a secret place for you and him.

You come close to the body of water, crouching down, staring at your rather unclear image by the water, and making out the contours and edges of your face. You try to reach out to your reflection, disturbing the surface with the tip of your fingertips, and you watch as it ripples underneath your hand. Although you’re way too focused on whatever you are doing that you forgot the existence of the boy who came here with you.

“Are you just planning on staring at the water all day long?” Scaramouche says as he crouches down beside you. He speaks as if he didn’t spend his time staring at you, admiring the way the sun holds you in its embrace, while thinking that he could just look at you for hours without getting bored.

You hum, “I really don’t know what else to do now,” you draw something on the water, the surface coming in creases.

“I thought you said there are a lot of things to do in the summer.”

“Yeah, but we already did nearly all of them.” You grumble, turning to look at him with a troubled expression. Indigo orbs meet yours in a gentle gaze; Scaramouche’s gaze, tender and soft, doesn’t often match the harsh bite of his words. It leaves you wondering, confused, if this is just his way of showing that he cares or if there’s something more. But you don’t like thinking about it—fools base their thoughts on foolish assumptions, and you are no fool.

If only you know what festers underneath his skin. Looking at you like this, honey light against your skin, he thinks you’re beautiful—the word isn’t even enough to capture the essence of your being. The world seemingly held its breath for this moment as everything came to a still except for the wind that brushes against your face. He is foolishly and utterly starstruck by the existence of you, as if you were meant to be in this place, to experience this small, fleeting moments with him, to be bathed under sunlight, to breath in the air of your surrounding, the feel the coldness of water against your feet—to live.

There's you and his mere image being reflected by your eyes, and he tries to see into the waters of your gaze for something that is akin to the just adoration he holds for you, hoping that you hold him under the same light too. He may speak of words that hold no meaning, no truth, but his feelings for you are intense and unwavering that it consumes him. Won’t you pull him a little closer?

You break the stillness, your surroundings seemingly coming back to life with the sound of your voice: “What are you thinking now?”

“Just how stupid you look.” The boy answers. Liar.

You acted as if you were offended by his statement, letting out a gasp and even placing your hand over your chest to show that you were quote on quote, hurt. He only rolls his eyes at your performance.

You jest, “Why are you so grumpy? Do you just hate being with me?”

“Stop assuming things, I didn’t say anything like that.” His attention is now to the river, watching as the stream flows and as the rocks remain unmoving.

You grab this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and inattention. Snickering, you scoop a handful of water before splashing it to him, drenching him in the process. At the sight, laughter bubbles from your throat—he reminded you of a wet chick.

“So we're playing this game?”

“You started it.” You grin, splashing him once more but this time, he was able to shield himself from your attack.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cold!” You exclaim as he repays you the favor.

It became a battle between you two. You’ll splash him with a handful and he’ll only retaliate after like two or three of your attacks, and even so, he’ll only fight back with only so little. Nevertheless, water drips from your head, down to your face and he, too, is left there on the side of the river with you, completely drenched and with his clothes sticking to his skin. His gaze is on you and yours are on him, and the two of you break into laughter—you think you’ll remember the sound of yours and his tangled together forever.

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were children once more.

“Ah, now we’re both wet.”

Scaramouche flicks your forehead, earning a groan from you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours, duh.” You sneeze as soon as you finish your sentence. Scaramouche doesn’t fail to notice you tremble, hugging your knees close to your chest as if to quell the growing chill.

He abruptly stands up, and you watch him as heads over to where his bag is. He’s been carrying that since earlier and you’ve been curious as to what it contains—you didn’t get the chance to ask him earlier but now, your question is going to be answered.

You follow after, standing and peering behind him to see the contents. Your eyes are able to make out a water bottle and some snacks—were those your favorite?—among the pile of things. Albeit you didn’t get to see anymore of it as he turned around and placed something on top of your head, obscuring your vision.

You realized it was a towel when he started to gently rub your hair and the side of your face with it, drying you with the soft fabric.

“I didn’t know you had that much prepared.” You comment, letting him seemingly take care of you. Sometimes, it feels like you’re indebted to him with how much he looks after and cares for you. It feels unfair; you take so much from him and he never takes anything from you. He never lets himself indulge, settling on here and there, but never by you. You wish he would come close, he wishes you’ll hold him closer.

“I think we’re going to get sick after this.” You ask with worry lacing your tone; the water was cold and none of you brought any spare clothes, save for the towel he had prepared. And while he’s the one who got drenched the most, he’s here, focusing on you instead.

(You’ll always find yourself being bathed underneath all of his attention, whether you notice his gaze or not.)

“You’re the only one getting sick between the both of us.” He answers, draping the towel all over your shoulders before he goes and takes out a smaller towel to dry himself. There’s a small pout on your face when you hear his words—you can’t say anything in retort.

“Are we going home now?”

“If you want to, that is.”

The sun is already setting and darkness is slowly creeping into the day as time passes. Your surroundings are dyed with a warm golden, fading into blue. The animals that dwell in the night are revealing themselves as the ones who thrive during the day are returning to rest. Eventually, you also have to go home too. Exhaustion has seeped into you, settling into your weary bones.

“Can you carry me?”

“What? Can’t you walk on your own?”

“Oh, please, almighty Scaramouche. My legs are hurting and I’m tired.” Your hands are clasped together as you speak, batting your eyelashes at him.

Scaramouche could have complained a little more, dismissed your request, and walked back on his own, but he didn’t. And it’s not like he did not want to, but he just could not. How could he ever deny you? You were all that he could ask for, you were only asking him for one thing. Rejecting you at this moment was just like turning away from you—even though he knows that you’re most likely bluffing and are capable of your own.

(But, oh, he’s simply nothing without you. After all, you make up half of his soul even if he’s not even a fragment of yours.)

“You’re so troublesome.” You’re his favorite problem anyway.

Dusk is settling in the corners of the forest, and in the midst of the trees and along with the harmony of cicadas, is you and Scaramouche. The dark-haired man carries you on his back while you keep him occupied with your chatter of whatever that comes to your mind.

And just as he notices every small thing about you, you can’t ignore the dark hue his skin is painted in:

“Your ears are red.”

He takes a few seconds, mumbling, “It’s too hot.”

(Maybe it’s summer that is warm, or maybe it’s you.)

The next day, however, Scaramouche got sick and you had to nurse him back to his health—out of worry and guilt. Although you held that fact over your head, treating it as some sort of trophy.

iii. aren’t we already close enough?

Something knocks at Scaramouche’s window.

That’s how most horror movies start, but this is no horror movie, and it doesn’t take much for him to know that it was just his neighbor trying to grab his attention.

Another knock came. He heads towards the noise, pushing the curtains aside, and immediately seeing you across in your own room, standing by your open window. Upon seeing the man, you enthusiastically wave at him.

You mouthed, even doing some hand gestures to throw your message across to him: “Do you wanna watch the stars with me?”

It seems like he didn’t understand what you were trying to say as he only stares at you with a confused expression. You sighed and gestured for him to wait, disappearing from his line of sight for a moment before returning with a pen and paper in your hand; you scribble something on it and he watches you with a curious gaze.

With your words written by ink, a few of it crossed out, it reads: Let’s go stargazing.

He mouths, “Right now?” In which you responded with a nod and a smile. Then you return to your pad in hand, turning to new page before writing:

There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Let’s watch it together.

Scaramouche puts down his reply on his paper that he has gotten as you were writing.

Where?

The forest has a small clearing, it’s perfect for stargazing.

Right, and why are we talking like this?

It’s more fun this way and I don’t want to wake people up.

So, do you wanna go???

Okay. Yeah.

YAY !!! I’ll meet you outside.

But just as you were about to leave, he threw his pen at your window, an attempt to grab your attention although he did end up startling you.

It’s cold.

Wear something warm.

You beam at his display of his concern and give him an ‘Okay’ sign.

A few minutes flies by and you come out, jacket in hand. A certain man, with hair as dark as midnight, greets you. He’s clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, layered with a jacket on top—he was dressed comfily, as if he were planning on sleeping prior to this.

“Were you planning on going to sleep?”

“I was, until you called.”

“You could have just turned me down. I don’t mind watching the meteor shower alone.” You feel guilt rising in your chest, looking down at the ground you were rooted on. Thoughts whirl like a hurricane, creating a vortex of doubt that wreaks havoc inside your head. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, feeling all of these all at once over a simple and small thing. You were the one to insist, always the first one to come barging into his door.

But somewhere between your thoughts and his own, between loving you and adoring you, he knows you in ways that no one could. You’re the only one he ever knows.

“You’re not bothering me,” Scaramouche ruffles your head, messing up your hair. He speaks in the same note of his touch, soft and gentle, and it feels foreign and familiar at the same time; you want this, you could get used to this—the small thought that remains inside your mind echoes as he dispels all of your worries with just a few of his words. “Besides, I also wanted to watch the meteor shower.” With you.

“Really?”

“Where’s the stubborn and strong person who’ll drag me out of my room every summer that I know?” He flicks your forehead, making you wince and rub the spot to ease the pain. He adds, a small smile etching into the curves of his lips, “You were the one to say that everything is better when you do it with someone.”

“Well—”

“There’s no need to worry over such useless things,” He heaves out a sigh, “If I hated you, you would have known.”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have his hand seek out your face, caressing your face so tenderly like a lover would. The dance of his fingers left a trail of warmth across your skin, blooming and spreading like fire, and maybe it was your fault or maybe it was his that your face leans closer to his touch as if desiring for more of his softness. He doesn’t fail to notice the look on your face, the fire that festers within you spreading to him.

Scaramouche is mesmerized by the miracle that is you.

He clears his throat, looking away, afraid that he’s going to be consumed by your light the more he keeps his gaze on you:

“Let’s go before we end up missing it.” His tone falters into something sweet, and his hand, too, falls into something kind—his fingers slipping into your own. You could only nod your head in response, afraid that your words would break in your tongue before you could even speak.

It doesn’t take long to reach the spot you were talking about. But it did feel like time moved slowly with the silence as neither of you let go of each other’s hand; you battled with your reasoning, thinking that it will help you walk better in the dark and not trip over anything even when you’re already familiar with the path. Or maybe it was just too cold, you don’t know; it’s not like you want to let go either.

(And in the same cadence of your thoughts, his soul whispers to you: “I don’t think I want to stop holding your hand.”)

Tonight, the stars are a witness to the wake of something foolishly beautiful. As the streaks of light fill the sky like a stroke of a painter’s brush on an empty canvas, lush grass forms into nothing as it sinks beneath your being, intertwined with his as he clutches your hand tight—the sky holds the stars as the earth bears your weight all the same. When the warm breeze leaves and when life all becomes nothing in the absence of indigo merging into golden, can you stand with him a little closer underneath the fading warm?

“Kuni.” What does his name taste like in your mouth?

“Hm?”

Scaramouche isn’t stupid, but you make him feel stupid, and he loves you stupid, like a loser stumbling over the stars in your eyes. He understands why poets write the mundane and how artists portray a fleeting moment bound to rot by time. It doesn’t take much but he spent a long time seeking comfort in the warmth to know the answer—he knew what it was when he wished you were with him to enjoy the sun.

You reside in the deeper parts of his soul, tangled in the loose threads of his being. Scaramouche prays—even when he doesn’t necessarily believe, but what is a god’s gaze for your love?—to whoever is listening that you’ll stay there forever. Can a human ever stop their heart from wanting?

“Don’t you want to go home now?” You had asked him; the meteor shower has finished and the clouds are already hiding the vast blanket of stars above you. There’s not much left in this night, just silence and a pair of people who had nothing and everything at the same time, lying on the grass as if they’re the only ones who matter in the world. He has always existed right there beside you and he has belonged to you in ways that you may never know.

“I’m still not sleepy yet.” But his mouth gapes into a yawn and you laugh.

“Liar.”

Call him whatever you want, he just wants to stay with you a little longer.

Scaramouche may be a liar.

But he likes you, that much is certain.

taglist: @felibrary, @yunicide, @bittersweetmiko

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angelsleepinggurl · 3 months ago

Text

𝙞 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. stepping into your early twenties you move to live on your own. A couple months later you're surprised when family man Miguel O'Hara moves next door. How do you manage to get this sex symbol into your sheets?

wc . 7,625

tags . miguel o hara x reader.miguel o hara x reader smut. all characters are 18+ years old. alternative au. non spiderman au. family man Miguel. dad Miguel. husband Miguel. swearing, cunnilingus, praise kink, blowjobs, phone sex, masturbation, shower sex, squirting. age gap. 18+ mdni!

.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : your girl by lana del rey

0:57 ————|——— -2:10

° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

June 21st

You remember it clear as day. June 21st when they moved in. You’d just come back from practice and you were about to head downstairs to check for any mail when you saw it go down. The moving van pulled onto the street, tailed by a red family-sized car. Curiously you peer out of your bedroom window. Out stepped a tan middle-aged woman in a floral sun dress and a woven hat. A girl with her hair in pigtails and a lollipop in her sticky little hands. Then came him.

Him in all his beautiful glory. Him in his staggering height and muscular frame. His hair dark, curly, unruly falls against his well-defined cheekbones and, further highlighting his strong jawline. Just his appearance alone has put you in a trance, you’re glued to your window and you daren’t leave until he disappears from your sight. Even the way in which he moves speaks volumes about the silent authority that he carries.

July 1st

Temperatures rise gradually, and clothes get skimpier, at least yours do. But it’s all part of your plan. With a couple of failed attempts at making cookies, you’d finally nailed it, once your friend did it for you. You arrange them neatly on a plate, trying to ignore the little voice in your head that questions your motives. But you’ve already decided, and there is no turning back now. You let yourself in by opening his front gate, before closing it behind you, walking down the grassy lawn and in front of his door. The soft click of it closing behind you sounds like a finality as if crossing an invisible line.

You can feel your heart in your mouth. Tempering with a family man, you were up to no good, but you can’t help that you wanna have a little fun and see what you can do. A couple knocks on their door and you don’t wait long before the door opens, revealing the little girl and woman previously.

Fuck. Not who you wanted to see.

“Hi.” you greet cheerfully, hiding your disappointment behind a friendly facade. “I’ve noticed you guys have moved in next door, I’m Y/N and I wanted to give you these cookies as a welcome gift.” The woman smiles a warm smile in gratefulness and her child seems to be eagerly staring the plate of goodies down.

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate this, It’s so nice to see a friendly face out here.” she chuckles, pulling her child’s head close to her and stroking her dark hair.

You nod, your smile widening as you make small talk, though your mind is still on him. “It’s hard to get these guys to open up, takes a while, but I didn’t want y’all to have a bad impression of the area and I'm sure you’ll all love it here. Especially you.” you say, pointing to the child, who shyly turns away from you.

“Gabriel saluda a la simpática dama.” her mother gently prompts her and the little girl mutters a quiet welcome. For a brief moment, guilt twists in your stomach. This woman, her child—they’re kind and welcoming, and they see you as nothing more than a friendly neighbour. But the guilt is fleeting, replaced by a sense of determination. He’s set, devoted, maybe—but how devoted?

“She’s so precious.” you coo.

Sure, part of you feels bad, the man has a wife and a kid. He’s set and devoted, but you want to test the waters and see how devoted he is. So when they invite you to a barbeque night for the 4th, you seize your chance. Because while part of you knows this might be wrong, another part of you is already imagining what might happen if he looks at you just a little too long, if his smile lingers just a little too much.

The game has begun, and you’re ready to see just how far you can push it.

4th July.

The day tumbles into night dragging along its excitement and heat of the sun-soaked hours before into the darkening, night. Dense smoke from the barbecue rises slowly, curling and rolling into the night sky, wrapping itself around the gathering like a veil. It’s almost as if a hazy filter has been cast over the whole series of event, from the moment you step foot into their garden to the moment he offers you a drink. You can feel it—this strange, heady mix of anticipation and tension His significantly larger hand over the cool glass bottle, mimicking your cold sweat.

You take the drink from him, swinging it to your lips, feeling some of it trickle past your mouth and down your chin. A practised thumb swipes over it as your eyes reunite with his. “Thanks for introducing yourself to my wife. ” he thanks you, breaking the silence between the both of you- finally. “She really appreciates it and she’s glad you pointed out places for our Gabriel to play.” he finishes, eyes pulling away from the distance and back down to you.

“It’s nothing, don’t think anything of it.” now it’s your turn to look off into the distance, soaking in the scenery of others gathered near the table of roasted food. Their laughter mingling with the music that drifts from the speakers filling up the night. You’re unsure of when, but there is an eager flame dancing in a corner, adding a subconscious thrill to this gathering. The couple seem to have invited friends and family members and you start to feel a little out of place, like a fish out of water.

“Didn’t catch you name by the way?” he asks, widening his current stance, flexible in the subconscious hierarchy.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, Y/N, you’re always welcome here, drop by if you need anything, we’d love seeing your face around.” perhaps it’s pure delusion or mere obsession with fantasy, but the tonality of his voice is hinting towards something. Towards something deeper and secretive than what the world has to know. Before you can thank him for his kind gesture, you’re interrupted by Gabriel running towards her father screaming “Daddy!”, and hugging his leg fondly.

Of course. You remember your place in this scenario. You’re simply their neighbour, nothing more, nothing less. You see it in his eyes as he bends down to pick up his daughter, his expression softening as he sways with her in his arms. He apologises to you, saying he has to leave for a moment. And you're alone again, placing the bottle to your lips once more.

And your heart shifts uncomfortably when the couple stands together to make an announcement, his arm wrapped around her waist comfortably,of course. As if she belongs there, and she does. You see where you stand in this.

10th July

You like to keep yourself busy when you aren’t drowned in school work, practising or doing your

part-time job and you accomplish that by journeys to the club with your friend, never intending to stay long or do anything of an impact, so this night when a new fellow accompanies you back home, you’re left with the tough decision of rejecting his advances.

“I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. “ you explain, leaning against your car, not entertaining his attempts.

“Well I can be quick baby, in and out.” he pleads, his voice slurring slightly as he leans closer, his hand resting on the hood of your car. The stench of alcohol clings to him, and you can tell by the way he’s using your car as a crutch that he’s far too intoxicated to be thinking straight. You sigh inwardly, already knowing this is going nowhere.

“I don’t like sloppy hurried work, I’d want for you to take care with me.” You explain, glancing at your nails bored, waiting for him to tire himself out and head home, so you can head to bed.

“I won’t be sloppy baby, promiseee.” he whines, his voice taking on a childlike quality that makes your skin crawl. The desperation in his tone only solidifies your resolve. This is exactly why you’re drawn to older men—men who know what they want and don’t need to beg or plead for attention. Men like him.

Almost as if on cue, out walks the man, his hair failing in front of his fair, this time much more unkept and messier than usual. Curious eyes observe his frame hidden under the loose-fitting shirt he’s wearing. The sound of the guy next to you complaining and begging again perks his attention and when he lifts his head to peak at the commotion he makes eye contact with you. There’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that he’s seen you, that he’s aware of your presence even in this awkward situation. your focus is elsewhere now, on the man who just drove away, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing. The night suddenly feels colder, and emptier, as you watch his taillights disappear into the distance.

23rd July

Blue skies overhead and the sun pressing down on you heavily, aggressively biting into your skin. The sun beats down relentlessly, turning your skin warm to the touch and making the air shimmer with heat. Your friends and you have hosted a pool party, to cool off and catch up. So you’re wearing your strappy swimsuit when you realise that your hose won’t turn or budge. You try with all your might but to no avail. No matter how much you twist and pull, the stubborn thing won’t budge. You put your full weight into it, your muscles straining as you give it another try, but it’s no use. The hose refuses to cooperate. Only one thing left to do.

You find yourself in front of your neighbours’ door, this time in a two piece piece swimsuit, that seems to hug you in all the right places, and the colour makes your features pop even more. You spend a couple of quick seconds adjusting the fabric only your body as finalising touches and fixing your hair, before lightly knocking on the door. It doesn’t take long before the door swings open wide, revealing a shirtless Miguel.

Bingo.

His broad chest glistens slightly with a sheen of sweat, and for a moment, you lose your train of thought. You flash a charming smile, “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help with my hose?” you ask, your voice sweet and innocent, leaving the question hanging in the air. You can see the moment he registers your outfit, his eyes widening slightly before they travel slowly over your body, taking in every detail. It takes him a few seconds to pull his gaze back up to your eyes, and when he does, he leans casually against the doorframe, trying to play it cool.

“What hose?” he asks, his voice a little rougher than usual.

“The hose in my backyard,” you explain, your tone light. “I need it to fill up my pool.”

“Your pool huh?” his eyes keep drifting all over, he’s clearly distracted and your plan is set in motion.

“Yeah,” you continue, feigning a bit of helplessness. “I’m having a pool party with my friends, but I can’t seem to get the hose to turn on.” You pout slightly, batting your lashes at him, hoping to nudge him into coming over, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

“I can help you turn it on.”

“Great!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together, a smile on your face. You lead him to your back garden and the short journey there is filled with silence. He makes his way over the knob of the hose, effortlessly twisting it successfully, however, no water comes out.

“Oh no. Is the water broken?” you ask, lightly shaking the hose in hopes of getting a trickle of water to emerge.

“It probably needs a minute.” he explains, staring at the green hose in your hands in anticipation. The two of you wait the minute, patiently waiting for any spurts of water, but nothing.

“I guess, my water system’s broke. I’ll just call the-”

“I can help you. It’ll only take a minute, it may just be a connection issue, no need to ring them up.”

“Really? Thank you.” you gasp, ecstatic. You exaggerate your relief, letting it show in your eyes, hoping to make yourself seem more appealing, more in need of his help. Now, he’s in your territory, your domain, and you’re determined to make the most of it.

He nods and asks you to lead him to your kitchen sink. He crouches down on the ground and opens the cupboards, hands going into the darkness searching for something.

“Can I get you a drink or something?” you ask him casually, but he refuses, saying he’ll be in and out. To your disappointment. But even as he works, you can’t help but notice the little things—the way his brow furrows in concentration, the way his fingers move with precision as he checks the pipes.

Minutes pass, and though you try to make small talk, he remains focused, determined to fix the problem. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he emerges from beneath the sink, wiping his hands on a rag.

“There, that should do it,” he says, standing up and giving you a satisfied grin.

You walk back outside with him, feeling a little defeated, but as he tests the hose one more time, water suddenly gushes out, splashing onto the ground with a force that catches you off guard. You can’t help but laugh in surprise, the sound is bright and genuine.

“Well, I guess I owe you one,” you say, turning to him with a playful smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just doing my job as a good neighbor.”

But there’s something in the way he says it, in the lingering look he gives you, that makes you think this might not be the last time you find yourself needing his help.

2nd August

The days stretch on, each one hotter than the last, as the relentless sun beats down from a sky that’s perpetually clear, leaving the air thick with humidity. The heat has sapped the energy out of most people, turning every movement into an effort and leaving them sluggish, sticky, and desperate for relief. Miguel, too, feels the weight of the summer pressing down on him, the heat wrapping around him like a heavy blanket as he decides to spend his afternoon lounging on the chair in front of his house.

He’s settled in with a cold beer, the bottle sweating in his grip as he takes a long, slow sip, savouring the coolness against his lips. The golden sunlight bathes his skin, and for a moment, he lets himself relax, trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of the day. He’s asked his family to give him some space, just an hour or so to himself, away from the noise and the demands of the household. But even as he reclines back, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, he can’t seem to shake the feeling of restlessness that’s creeping in.

The heat is relentless, and the boredom is worse. The occasional car zips by, blasting music that fades as quickly as it comes, leaving him alone with the sound of his own thoughts and the distant hum of cicadas. Irritated, Miguel lifts his sunglasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if that might alleviate the discomfort. The overstimulation of the day—the brightness, the heat, the monotonous sounds—is getting to him, and he’s on the verge of retreating inside when something catches his eye.

His gaze drifts across the yard, past the sidewalk, and up to the window of the house next door—your window. His breath hitches slightly as he sees you there, your bedroom window wide open, allowing the summer breeze to flow in and caress your skin. You’re standing in the middle of the room, bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon, and you’re slowly, deliberately, peeling off your clothes. One item at a time.

Miguel’s grip on the beer bottle tightens as he watches, his heart beating a little faster. You’re completely unaware of his gaze, lost in your own world as you remove each piece of clothing with a languid, almost sensual grace. Your movements are slow, unhurried as if you’re savouring the act of shedding the layers, of freeing yourself from the constriction of fabric. Each piece falls to the floor in a soft heap, and with every discarded item, more of your skin is revealed, glowing in the warm light.

He’s hooked, his eyes fixed on you, unable to look away. There’s something hypnotic about the way you move, the way you seem to bask in the sunlight pouring through your window, your eyes closed in what looks like pure bliss. It’s as if you’re performing a private dance, one meant only for yourself, and yet here he is, captivated by every second of it. The way you twirl in front of the mirror, the sunlight catching on the curves of your body, makes his pulse quicken. He watches, entranced, as you take a moment to admire your reflection, your fingers trailing over your own skin, before you disappear from view, leaving him breathless.

For a moment, Miguel just sits there, his body tense, his mind racing. The image of you, so free, so unguarded, is burned into his memory, and he knows it’s something he’ll replay over and over again in his mind. He tries to shake it off, to convince himself that it was nothing, just a fleeting moment—but the truth is, he’s in awe. He can’t believe what he just saw, and yet he can’t let it go.

He refuses to lay back down, to pretend as if nothing happened. His heart is still pounding, his skin tingling with the remnants of the sun’s heat and something else, something far more dangerous. He sits up, wide-eyed, replaying the scene in his mind, letting it linger. There’s no escaping it now. The image of you bathed in sunlight, every movement deliberate and intoxicating, will haunt him. It’s a secret he’ll keep, a memory he’ll revisit again and again, long after the sun has set and the heat of the day has finally faded.

5th August

Adulting means spending heaps of money on things which you’d rather not, like new appliances. You start to wonder where the money goes after, and why so much of it goes too. Today is one of those days. After making a painful dent in your bank account on a new appliance, you finally pull into your driveway, the stifling heat inside your car practically cooking you alive. The summer sun has turned your vehicle into an oven, and as you open the door, a wave of heat rolls out, making the sweltering air outside almost feel cool in comparison.

With a sigh, you climb out, your body already slick with sweat. You circle to the passenger side, pulling open the door to retrieve the heavy cardboard box that holds your new purchase. The weight of it nearly sends you toppling over, and you grimace as you try to get a better grip. The box is bulky and awkward, the edges digging into your arms as you begin the slow, torturous journey to your front door.

Every step feels like a challenge as the heat presses down on you, sweat trickling down your back. You’re already dreading the short walk, and as you glance at the distance between your car and your front door, you can feel the sweat start to gather at your hairline, your muscles straining under the weight. With another heave, you start to shuffle forward, side-stepping to keep the box balanced, your arms already burning from the effort.

Just when you think you might have to drop the box and rest, a familiar gruff voice cuts through the oppressive heat.

“Need some help with that?”

You look up to see Miguel, your neighbour, stepping out of his car. His timing is impeccable as if he appeared just when you were about to collapse under the weight of the box.

“I saw you coming out and thought you might need a little help,” he says, his tone casual, but there's a hint of concern in his eyes as he takes in your struggle.

You can’t help but tease him a little, despite the sweat dripping down your face. “Why? Don’t you think I can do it on my own?”

He doesn’t seem to catch the playful tone in your voice, instead taking your words at face value. “No, it’s just that you’re bent over double and practically becoming best friends with the ground with how far down you’re crouching.”

“Ouch,” you reply with a mock wince.

“Sorry,” he says, though there’s a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I mean, if you don’t mind, I would appreciate the help.”

Without another word, Miguel steps forward and effortlessly lifts the box from your hands, making it look as light as a feather. You can’t help but feel a little envious of his strength as he carries it with ease toward your front door. You quickly rush ahead to open the door for him, grateful for the assistance.

“Where do you want this?” he asks as he steps inside, the cool air from the house hitting his face.

“Just on that countertop will do, thanks,” you reply, pointing to the kitchen.

Miguel sets the box down carefully, and before you can even think to ask, he’s already heading back to your car to grab the remaining items. He makes a couple more trips, hauling the heavy boxes as if they weigh nothing, and your mind can’t help but fawn over his effortless strength. There’s something undeniably attractive about the way he moves, the way his muscles flex as he carries each load inside without breaking a sweat.

With the last of the boxes shuffled onto the countertop, Miguel turns to leave, but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

“Hey, would you like something to drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you,” you offer, flashing him a grateful smile.

He hesitates for a moment, but then he nods, a smile softening his features. “Sure, why not?”

You grab a couple of beers from the fridge, handing one to Miguel as the two of you make your way outside to the backyard. You find a spot on the steps, settling down side by side as he gulps down the cool drink, clearly appreciating the refreshment after the heavy lifting.

“You old enough to be having this beer?” Miguel asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

“It’s not mine,” you quickly explain, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “A friend left it over.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your explanation entirely. “How old are you then?”

“Twenty,” you reply, your voice steady, though you can’t help but feel a bit exposed by the question.

“Right,” he says, his tone neutral, but you can sense the wheels turning in his mind.

The age gap between you is significant, but oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to bother him. Not at all. In fact, there’s a certain tension in the air, a silent understanding that something unspoken hangs between you both. The way he looks at you, the way he’s been lingering a little longer than necessary—there’s something there, something neither of you has acknowledged yet, but it’s growing stronger with every passing moment.

“You know,” he begins, his voice low and smooth, “you’re pretty resourceful, handling all this on your own. But if you ever need help again... you know where to find me.”

His words linger in the air, heavy with implication, and you feel a shiver run down your spine despite the lingering heat of the day.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Miguel stands, his eyes never leaving yours as he steps away, but there’s a promise in his gaze, something unspoken that leaves you feeling warm and slightly breathless.

10th August

It’s late when he’s in your car round the corner of your street. The outside world is still- void of movement. The only two being existing are the both of you. Concealed under the inky blackness of the night, that its shade has to conceal. It's thrilling, almost like a sparkler on your touch, ready to crackle at any moment. The moonlight basks him nicely, highlighting his masculine and broody features, and capturing his captivating essence. His dark curls run past his deep eyes that call to you from the other side. His lips, which lick themselves with sin, are ready to taint yours too. You’re finding it harder and harder to contain yourself.

The lights of the streets, aligned perfectly, flicker and twinkle before you, igniting your motives even more. Even the distance between the both of you is electrifying, scared that one singular brush of a finger or shared gaze between each other would cause worlds to collide and collapse. His deep chuckle, fills the small car, snapping back into the present moment. It’s like your body has a mind of its own the way your fingers retract when he calls your name. This is dangerous territory. The scene set up for you is seductive and alluring.

“You got a boyfriend?” he asks you, his gaze ever so slowly rising from the edge of your car seat into your calling eyes, and he holds it. He freezes time by holding the connection.

“No.” you crack a smirk, your fingers playfully dancing on the centre console, keeping your tone light and flirty, your soft voice barely coming out above a whisper, drawing him in.

“Really? A girl like you doesn’t have one? That’s new.” he replies, looking ahead of him, the curls atop of his head tickling the roof of your car, further highlighting his enormous build.

“A girl like me? What does that mean?” Every sentence shared between the two of you is mere foreplay and the both of you know it. It’s sick. Every syllable spoken is dragged out slowly and stretched by rising smirks.

“You know, a pretty girl.” he’s smiling at your reaction, your failed attempt of muffling the smile spreading across your face and the heat rising through your core to your face.

You’re charmed, “You think I’m a pretty girl?” you ask, a twinkle in your eyes.

“Very.” he responds, the both of you staring at each other’s lips, imaging each other’s flavour and the way you both taste. Not a sound passes through the vehicle, it’s deadly silent, the only sound is the ringing of your own heartbeat in your head, a signal of your misbehaving.

“Well,” you start off, your voice as thick as honey, eyes latched unto his lips. “I’ve never had a older boyfriend before.”

“Oh yeah?” it is slow and reverberating when he says that.

“I bet he would treat me so good, and look after me real well. Don’t you?” you play with your lips between your teeth, biting and tugging playfully.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a younger girl under my care. But I assume, he’d treat you real good. Who ever he may be be.”

You hum, “How good? Tell me.”

“He’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before, make you see things you’ve never seen before, give you the attention you deserve.” his voice is low and grungy, he’s falling into your stick trap and you love it. You fail to realise the distance between the both of you diminishing, faces drawn closer and closer.

“Sounds good to me. Such a shame there isn’t a hunky older man to teach me these new things.” you’re whispering now. “Would you show me, Mr O’Hara?” The temptation. The beginning of his fall. You. Teasing him shamelessly in your car, you're displaying faux innocence, dripping in arousal. The use of the formality, ‘Mr O’Hara’ a name to which you’ve never referred him, flips the switch from within him.

Your lips crash unto his, finally bridging the distance between the both you. The kiss is fiery and hot, when your lips tangle with each other, breathing each other in, from the sheer desperation in the kiss. Sounds of lips smacking fill up the car very quickly, and the taste of faint liquor coats his lips, it's intoxicating and you’re reeling. His hand wastes no time cupping your face, holding you close to him. Finger’s nestle in his curly dark locks and the kiss deepens.

The only time the both of you separate is for air, gasping quickly as you pant for air, resting your forehead on his, and keeping him close by keeping your fingers interlocked in his hair.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” he breathes out, refusing to look up at you, knowing he’ll fall for the trap again.

“I know but you know you want to. It feels so right, doesn’t it?” you’re breathless and your lips have darkened in colour slightly, appearing rosier and more tempting.

“Fuck kid, the things you do to me.” he groans and he dives in again.

17th August

“Ngh- fuck.” you’re crying out as he thrusts into you mercilessly, drilling you deeper and deeper into your sheets. You're writhing and wriggling under his weighted grasp, as he uses one firm hand to pin your wrists above your head. Hair clings to your face, as you’re worked up by the intense pleasure. Back arching off the mattress as one stroke out the other’s seems to hit you just right, causing an involuntary reaction. Miguel is living for this, his eyes trained on your every move and shift, his ears memorising every one of your whimpers and cries. He’s relentless.

“Being such a good girl f’ me y’know that?” he says, his curls in disarray from the strenuous act, clinging to his forehead, his abs glistening in the sheen layering of sweat, from his dedication to making you feel like heaven. “You look so pretty like this princesa. Tan bonita. “

You’re fevershingly rolling and grinding your hips against him, eager and desperate for a sweet release. “Hold on, patience,” he growls, focused on getting you to cream all over him regardless. He can picture it now, your trembling figure spewing out a hot burst of yours and his warm white cum, making a mess of yourself. The thought of it alone nearly sends him over the edge.

“’ M gonna come Miggy.” you mewl out, toes curling from the heightened anticipation. You’re dripping and drenched. It’s absolutely filthy. From the moment you invited them into your home and tolerated the incessant foreplay, you’ve been needy and begging to feel him, to get a piece of him. So the moment when those lace panties came off, the man was met with a glistening, slick cunt, which is now responsible for the soppy sounds filling up the room. The sounds of your arousal. He’d call you a bad girl, for thinking of him so naughtily to get your pussy so needy, but he isn’t as innocent either.

“I know baby, I know, just hold out f’me, kay.”

“Fuuuckk.” tears are running down your cheek when Miguel lifts up of your legs, placing it over his broad shoulders. Your head falls back in pure bliss.

“Looks like we got a dirty mouth on our case. You’re gonna have to open wide for me.” he instructs and like a puppet you obey, opening your mouth more waiting for his thick fingers to invade. You’re slobbering all over the shamelessly, making eye contact with him as he ruts into you. “What a messy girl, is this how you behave when you get fucked, hmm?” his movement and sharper and faster and your body is limp, mind fogged. You forget to respond to him, too dicked dumb to do so.

“I asked you a question, you’re gonna fucking answer, is this how you act when you get fucked? Huh, princess? Like a sloppy slut? Or is it just with me?” you nod lazily in response, still moaning over the fingers in your mouth. Your eyes go wide when you feel yourself tightening, your walls gummy hot walls clamping down on him harder. Miguel removes his fingers from your mouth and his hand from your wrists, freeing them, his hands slipping down to your hips.

You can’t even scream about about your close approach because he can feel it and it's fast coming.

“Wanna come Miggy. Wanna feel so good.”

“Want me to make you feel good? Wanna come.”

“Yes, please,please,please,please.” you’re screaming and chanting ‘please’ as you feel your high incoming, and arch your back even further.

“Cum baby, come all over.” you screw your eyes tight as the knot in your stomach finally breaks and you’re cumming. With a couple of thrusts, Miguel follows soon after, his groans and your moans mixing together in the room. His dick is coated in a creamy white, leaving a ring around his base. You’re twitching as you come down from your high, gasping and trying to catch your breath.

With a soft kiss on your forehead, he congratulates you, “Did so good baby.”

23rd August

Sounds of the conscient stream of water fill up the soundscape of the bathroom, hot water, rushing down your back as you’re pressed against the wall, bent over for Miguel and his thick cock. You’ve got no stable supports, and your fingers are slipping off the wet wall, as you try to grip anything for support. It was a mistake for you to drag him along with you into the shower. What were you thinking? Expecting for him to remain composed upon seeing you all when and soapy, no chance. That’s how you find yourself screaming out his name as he places his large hands on your hips, using them to pummel you.

Beirfely, you turn to look back at him. A man on a mission, focused on your ass jiggling repetitively, it was hypnotizing.

“Go slower, slower.” you plead, dreading cumming early, having all of this fade so fast. But of course, the man refuses to listen to you, instead speeding up. Your words are cut off when he reaches deep, feeling as if he’s brushing against your cervix. You drop your head, your mouth following and you scream silently, thanking the Lord above for this blessing of man. One of his hands runs up your back, his thumb slowly stroking it. Bouncing back on his dick, your hips push back every time he pushes in, making you go dizzy.

“Atta girl, just like that, you eager to come on my dick huh?” he says lowly. You’re biting your lip as you nod, that is all you can think about. Your back arches as he speeds up, clenching down on him, warm walls giving him a tight squeeze, making him drop his head back as he lets out a low guttural groan.

“Fuck you’re sexy. Think you can come for me?” Not much else is aid when after three more strokes you're crying out his name, sounding like a sweet melody in his ears.

24th August

“Nice and slow princess, you sure you can handle it?” you’re gargling around his thick cock as he pushes your head down, forcing you to take him all. Making a mess as your saliva coats and lubes his hard-on. Your eyes are shut tight and your hands are gripping his thighs as he uses your hair to bob your head up and down his length. “There we go, such a pretty girl.” he coos, staring down at you, in awe at your determination and persistence to carry this through. Initially, he would’ve been fine with directing all his attention to you, but you didn’t want to seem like a quitter, you didn’t want to prove to him that you were a kid after all and he wasn’t right for you.

“You like that? Yeah, take it all in baby. Fuck” You feel a familiar heat pool in your panties, slowly dampening them. You fail to notice, that one of your hands has slipped down to soothe the building ache until he chuckles. “Don’t worry baby I haven’t forgotten about you. Gonna take real good care of you real soon.” He leans his head back, feeling his high approaching. His incessant repeating of your praise intertwined with praises of your good work seems to be working you up even more, the ache from before now developing into an urgent and deep throb. You moan, just thinking about it.

“Dirty fuckin girl.” he groans, taking his hands off your head and putting you in charge, his hand instead collecting all your hair. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head up and down, turning it to the side occasionally to sensually glide your tongue up his length, maintaining eye contact with him through watery eyes. “Fuck princess.” he groans. “ Want me to cum all over your face princess?” you moan in agreeance, feeling yourself throb in anticipation.

He hisses before pulling out of your mouth at the last minute, helping himself by finishing with a couple of strokes from his own hand. “Open wide baby.” You stick out your tongue ready, and hot spurts of coming land on your face, some coating your awaiting tongue too.

“Fuck you look good like this.”

26th August

You would say that you’re surprised that this man is a master pussy eater, but you’d be lying. He has successfully proven numerous times that he’s simply a sex god. So when your fingers are pulling on his hair for dear life, he isn’t surprised. With every flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit, you’re rolling your hips, getting his nose to nudge against your clit too in the mix. “Can’t go anymore, baby.”

“Why not, just wanna see you cum all over again, you look so perfect when you do it.”

His tongue laps over your sensitive bud again, slurping up and collecting all your juices and you’re crying from the intense pleasure wriggling and writhing again.

“So good.” you groan, leaning your head back and falling into the pleasure, letting it consume you. His hands are grabbing your thighs forcefully whilst his thumb is simultaneously grazing the flesh. He’s passionately making out against your soaked cunt, not minding that you’re dripping unto his chin. He loves it.

“Wait, wait, I’m gonna come, ‘M gonna come, gonna come.” you tell him too late, because when you do, you’re not creaming like you usually do, but instead a clear liquid sprays out. Everywhere.

“Well, you may you didn’t come, but you definitely squirted.”

28th August

“Rub that pretty pussy for me. Just like that.” his voice says through the phone, watching intently as your fingers repetitively circle over your clit, your speed slow and teasing, you bite your lips to suppress your moans, your drenched hole fluttering around nothing. Miguel has finally got himself a free house, but his wife’s suspicions are arising, not towards the two of you, but towards Miguel’s new sneaking out habit and leaving the house more than he usually would. Usually, you would feel bad for the mother, getting neglected by her husband and watching him distance himself from her, leaving the burden of their child unto her, but you were having too much fun with his married man. With the way he fucks you, and holds you and whispers dirty things in your ear- tainting your innocence. Your head is reeling from all this new attention, so you don’t think you’ll stop anytime soon.

“Fuck.” a soft groan comes from his side as he watches you devilishly slip your finger into your warm, desperate cunt. “Did I tell you you could put you’re fingers in, huh?” Miguel on the other end is pumping himself to the sight of you, needy and depraved. No matter how many times he’s been all up in your cunt, or had your gummy walls wrap around him, he can never seem to get enough. There’s something about you that pulls him back, you’re not just some option on the side for him anymore, but now more like a drug, the things you’re doing to him.

“Don’t care.” you giggle softly, pumping your fingers at a faster pace, rolling your head to the side. “I’m horny and you’re not here to do anything about it.”

“Watch it. We’ll see what I’ll do when I get back.”

You arch your back as your fingers finally graze your G spot, causing you to moan out. Your fingers are covered in your slick. “Wish you were here to fuck me, Miguel,” you whine, not knowing the effect this has on him. If he could, he would run out of the house take you right then and there, stuff you full of him and watch as you get fucked dumb by him. You’re teasingly moaning louder than usual to work him up, but your mind can’t help but fill with a picture of him having his way with you, fucking you rough. “ Fuck Miggy, need you right now.” you moan out, your fingers pumping into yourself faster.

“Maybe if you come all of those pretty fingers I might consider it.”

“Mmhg shit, I can come for you, I can come real hard.” you put your other hand to good use, to circle your clit, the feeling immediately increasing my tenfold, now you’re really crying out, head getting clouded by pure lust and the urge to reach your high.” With a few more pumps and circles of your fingers, you release all over your fingers, laying back on your bed to catch a breath as warm cum ooze out of you.

“Come here and show me the mess you’ve made baby.” you don’t hesitate to sit up and grab your phone, angling it to reveal your white fingers. “Put em in your mouth and suck real good.” you follow his command, swirling your tongue around your fingers and sucking them clean, before taking them out of your mouth to show him the finished result. “Atta girl.”

“Look at the mess I made.” you bring your phone to your glistening cunt, absolutely covered in your arousal, your hole still leaking cum from your high, and your puffy clit.

“What a good girl.”

August 31st

The both of you knew this day would come. The last day before you returned back to college, the day where you’d have to say goodbye, but it happened all too soon. You almost wish that something, anything would happen to not have to pull you out of this situation and from the ecstasy you’re feeling. The room has picked up the scent of sex after all the rounds the both of you have endured, fucking for hours on end. The sounds of skin slapping and bed creaking has filled the room with pap, pap, pap’s. Your nails are digging into his back, definitely leaving him marked up with your scratches against his board back and he pummels into you, your body practically clinging unto him as he fuck you into oblivion.

“Gonna miss you, baby, you know that?” he says, placing gentle kisses on your hot forehead, some strands of your hair clinging to your face.

“Gonna miss you too,” you respond, pulling him closer as he reaches deeper and deeper, further and further into you. You place your lips on his neck, passionately sucking on it, with the intent of leaving a mark.

“You naughty, naughty thing, what have I told you about shit like this.” you ignore him anyway. Miguel has always had a problem with being evidenced. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to catch an accidental glimpse of it and start pointing fingers, but as this was a farewell gift, he let the scratching slide. Once successfully leave your mark, you giggle. “We’ll see who’ll be laughing in a second.”

In a second you’re moaning louder. There’s something that he’s doing that's working even better than a couple of thrusts ago, and you don’t know what it is. You thought you were already at 100% with him, but you suppose you truly underestimated him. Now he has you screaming his name, pleading and begging like prayer- music to his ears.

“Oh fuck. oh my fucking God.” One thing Miguel loves about you is how vocal you are, it fuels him, so whenever he hears your pleas to keep going or to stop because it’s too much, he carries right on. You’re high up with the way you’re being fucked, his hips rut into you and soon you’re unable to even scream out loud, all of them turning silent.

“Yeah, who's laughing now.” he chuckles, as you lay back on the bed, gripping the sheets beneath you. He takes his hand to your face, brushing the hair out of it before placing a is on your lips and you’re melting into it. The two of you don’t usually kiss, keeping it strictly to fucking, but this time it’s different, this one is different. Contradictory to his pace, you lips are slow and gentle as he savours your taste and your lips for the last time.

This truly is the end.

SEPTEMBER 1ST

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

count how many times i said fuck. miguel is sooooooooo sexy oh mi god. please give this the love it deserves i acc spent ages writing this.

#wattpad #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel 2099 #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader smut #miguel x reader smut #atsv miguel x reader

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weirdsht · 3 months ago

Note

cale with idiots in love trope

- "You're cute" "hm?" "I said you look like a boot."

- casual displays of affection, hand holding bc s/o would space out and may or may not get lost (directionally challenged)

- pretending everything is casual, but they're soooo in love with each other

- "I look like a mess" "the prettiest mess"

- the kids absolutely love when they get cuddles with cale and s/o

- maybe braiding cales hair??

- whenever cale goes somewhere and can't bring them, they'd go like "I'll be going for a while" (cale) "I'll always be here" (s/o)

- stealing cales clothes bc its comfy!!

- "are you asleep?" "...no" "wanna talk?"

- "I love you" "I've loved you my entire life"

Can’t Two People Be Friends? - Cale/Gn! Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, deputy commander reader, getting together fic, vague novel spoilers, is told from Alberu's perspective, tired Alberu, save Alberu from his dumb dongsaeng, use of degrading words (e.g. stupid) but it's in a loving way, have I mentioned Alberu is tired of Cale's shit?

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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another anon said: cale who acts like a lover to his "closest confidant", though they are not in a relationship, they certainly do act like one– to the point that his crew would question them, to which they'd respond "We're just friends" "What do you mean? They look at you like you're their entire world"– which then starts their operation, get cale a lover

Cale Henituse is someone who has a lot of people under his wing. He's a heroic person busy saving the continents– no, the world. Which was why it is no surprise to find out that he has a close confidant. He has a second-in-command who helps him plan everything and is in charge of backup plans in case something goes wrong.

All of that is normal. Expected even.

What isn’t normal is how they act towards each other.

They act like… people who have a deeper relationship than just friends, for lack of a better term.

Like right now. [Name] is holding onto Cale’s arms as they navigate through this tiresome ball. Looking at him as if he had hung up the moon and the stars.

“Your Highness, you are quite close to the both of them… are we sure they are merely close friends?”

One of the nobles talking to Alberu Crossman questions as everyone watches the commander-and-deputy-commander duo dance in the centre of the hall.

“Of course they are. They have said so themselves.”

Alberu adds on at the end about how they shouldn’t inquire about another person’s private life.

However, Alberu himself is quite frustrated.

It was the truth when he said the two are nothing more than friends. And that’s what frustrates him. The two idiots can’t see the way they stare at each other. Can’t notice how they are unconsciously each other’s priority no matter what happens.

Alberu also knows that he isn’t the only one feeling this way.

No, as a matter of fact, everyone in Cale’s group feels the same frustration the future king feels.

“When will they get together? They deny their feelings as if we didn’t see them cuddling last night while reading a novel.”

On complained one day while eating the crown prince’s cookies.

“I’ve always known that our young master was quite dense in the aspect of love but… hmmm, I must say that this level is getting frustrating.”

Ron shared his own opinion as he served everyone tea.

Well everyone except the two people who are the topic of their discussion. Of course, they aren’t. For they were busy cuddling in the newly installed swing in the garden of the black castle while reading a novel. [Name] is busy platonically nuzzling their head in Cale’s chest, while Cale himself is busy platonically draping his legs over [name] as they lay down on the large swing.

‘Merely friends my ass’

Alberu thinks to himself as he watches the two from the window while sipping on the tea Ron served.

The people inside the room merely complained about Cale and [Name]’s relationship. They did not say anything about forcing them to get together and be in a romantic relationship.

And it’s not because they respect what the two have now.

No, it was simply because they didn’t need to say such things out loud. The complaints they have said out loud are enough confirmation to ensure that everyone is on the same page.

That everyone will be doing their best to show those two knuckleheads that what they have is more than platonic.

“You do know that you only let [Name] braid your hair like that. Do you realise just how much special privilege you give them?”

“What special privilege? The kids also braided my hair.”

Alberu’s dumb dongsaeng stared at him in confusion and the crown prince swears his about to have an aneurysm.

“Yes, but they are your kids. Of course, you’ll indulge them.”

“That is true…”

For a moment Alberu thought that they were finally heading somewhere.

“But [Name] is the only one who can braid my hair neatly like this.”

Turns out the only place they are heading to is back to square one.

Alberu pushed down the urge to smack a chair in his beloved dongsaeng’s face. How could he forget Ron’s existence? The Ron that does every task perfectly, but still could not braid the redhead’s hair because ‘only [Name] can do it perfectly’.

Cale better be glad Alberu didn’t transform Taerang into a hammer and threw it in his face.

“I love you, you know that right?”

[Name] had asked Cale during one of their cuddling sessions and Raon’s ears perked up.

“Of course I do.”

Cale answered casually and it got Raon’s hopes up.

“Are you guys together???”

He asked, eyes full of hope.

“What do you mean silly? Of course, we’re together, we’ve been friends for years now.”

That night Raon did not speak to any of them, and the two idiots only thought he was sick and tried to coax him to talk to them.

Subtle advances like that continued for a while before they all admitted defeat. One day Rosalyn even straight up asked [Name] how they felt about Cale. To which the deputy commander only responded with “he’s my best friend of course” before going on their merry way to steal another one of Cale’s clothes.

Just when all of them are about to give up Alberu caught the two of them talking in that same swing one night.

He was about to go back to the palace. Only went to sneak into Raon’s castle to talk to Cale about an important business that cannot be said through a communication device. However, just as he was about to teleport back he heard the two.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t in bed.”

“Wanna talk then?”

Alberu silently scoffs at them. Even their conversations sound like their married already.

They talk for a few minutes. Topics vary from the mundane to philosophical questions no one can answer.

It didn’t look like Alberu would get anything from eavesdropping so he thinks about going home.

But then…

“I know we’re both too busy. I know this will only add more burden to you. However, I must say it.”

[Name] spoke gently. Their eyes which were previously watching the stars shifted their focus to stare at Cale’s face.

“I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than life.”

That made the crown prince stop in his tracks. For a moment he remembers Raon’s complaints about how they seem to say “I love you” to each other without it meaning anything. For a moment he doubted if it was a confession.

Of course that didn’t stop him from recording the whole thing.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you this entire time. I’ll love you even after death.”

At Cale’s reciprocity, Alberu finally moved to give the privacy. He may want to see the two of them get together, but he does not want to see them kiss. A confession was enough to satisfy him.

But the irritation he feels from waiting for them to confess did not go away.

Hence why instead of going home he first went to his instructor, Choi Han.

Alberu Crossman did not say to the swordmaster. He only hands him a piece of paper before going back to his palace.

In that paper wrote:

The two idiots are finally together. I have a recording if anyone is interested. I’ll show it in exchange for a recording of you lightly smacking my lovely dongsaeng head upside-down. I’m sure my instructor will understand where I’m coming from.

Choi Han does. He greatly understands where his student was coming from.

That’s why, the next morning he was setting up a hidden recording device with a smile on his face.

Oh, he also got everyone’s permission before he set it up. In fact, most of them cheered at the thought of him physically knocking some sense in their young master’s head.

#le asks #lcf x reader #tcf x reader #lotcf x reader #totcf x reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #manhwa x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #lotcf #totcf #alberu crossman

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

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Sweet Tooth

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was nodding off while writing this cuz 1. I need a nap so bad and 2. It's just so peaceful the vibes of this fic are really nice

Edit: fixed some minor phrasing

Warnings: biting, kissing, established relationship, fluff, food/baking

Word Count: 1,771

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

No matter how long you spend with Sylus in the N109 Zone, your sleep schedule remains persistent. Sure, you stay up as late as you can to spend the night with him while he’s up and about, but the darkness, warm ambiance, and your body’s own internal clock turn against you sooner or later.

Sylus does the same for you, too. He grumbles about it, but he does enjoy spending the morning with you when you’re extra cuddly, searching for the last vestiges of your sleep before you have to get up. He’s better at staying awake, but you catch him dozing a lot, head tilted back and eyes closed as he lounges in a chair near you. It’s adorable. You love the effort you both put into trying to maximize your time together.

But today, Sylus is conked out. He was gone for most of the night and came back worn and weary. He didn’t have any visible injuries, but when you cupped his cheek and used your Evol, you could feel how drained his own was. He nearly fell asleep right there, eyes closing dangerously as he leaned into your touch and the soothing warmth of your ability. You dragged him to his bedroom, kissed his forehead, and told him to sleep. He mumbled vague threats about you waking him up, but they fell into silence before he finished any of them.

With the mansion to yourself for the day, you have to find ways to occupy yourself.

The twins and you play Kitty Cards for a bit, but they cheat so horrendously and tease you for losing, so that’s out until Sylus can sit behind you and glare at them any time their fingers try to slip more than one card from the draw pile.

You go through his books. A few are interesting; texts about Protocores and Evols stealing your attention for a time. But they have you yawning and wanting to crawl into bed with Sylus.

You even go to his dedicated exercise space, but without a partner to spar with, you don’t even work up a sweat before leaving.

Normally, you aren’t so restless. Any other time you had to spend the day with yourself, you were able to settle on something for long stretches of time, even into the night if you weren’t careful. Now, you can’t sit still for 30 minutes.

You check the time. 9:56. It’s not even 10 yet and you’re already struggling to come up with things to do. You fall into a couch in one of the lounge rooms with a humph, pulling out your phone and preparing to fall into a doomscroll through old Moments posts.

Fortunately, one of the first few posts is the perfect motivator not to: a recipe promising to be the number 1 rated chocolate chip recipe. You click on the article and scroll through until you reach the comments.

These are the best cookies I’ve ever had!!!

mmmnn wanna eat the dough raw its sooo gooooood

Tossing my store-bought cookies out rn I will only be making these from now on

It seems promising enough… You look at all the ingredients you need. It also seems simple enough for you to manage without burning the place down. You’d be surprised if the kitchen wasn’t already stocked with everything listed. But just in case…

You head down to the kitchen where the chef is coming up with meal suggestions for dinner. He’s jovial, always red in the cheeks and bright eyed. You wonder how he got hired on. You ask for help gathering the ingredients you need, and he’s happy to bounce from cabinet to fridge getting everything. Once they’re all laid out on the counter, you thank him and ask if you can have the kitchen to yourself. He bows and tells you to have fun, going over his list of notes as he leaves.

You turn the oven on, setting it to the correct temperature and letting it preheat. You forgot to ask the chef about bowls and measuring cups, but you find them easily and set them on the counter with the ingredients. Once you have music playing (quietly) on your phone, it’s easy to lose yourself in the process.

The world hones in on each step. You measure out the flour and sugars, mixing them together with a whisk. Without any preplanning, you have to soften the butter in the microwave before you can add it. Eggs are cracked against the countertop, calcium-rich shells scraping quietly as you set them aside to throw away later. A dash of vanilla, and a generous amount of chocolate chips, and the dough is ready.

You find a couple baking sheets and line them with parchment paper. As you roll small amounts of dough in your hands, you bounce on your feet, excited to taste your sweet treats in just 15 short minutes. You pinch off a little extra from one dough-ball and pop it into your mouth. If this was a preview for the finished product… You hurry to get them into the oven and set a timer.

To distract yourself from constantly checking the time, you clean up your mess. You put away what you remember the designated locations of, and set the rest aside for somebody else to deal with.

Hm, you should probably leave some for the chef, as a thank you for letting you borrow the space. And save a few for Luke and Kieran, or else they’d bug you for “forgetting” them for the rest of your days.

You open up cabinets until you find plates. There’s a set, the perfect size to divide the batch of cookies between three parties. You reach for it, stretching to be on your tip-toes. You gasp as a hand comes into your vision. When you try to back up, you hit a wall of muscle. A clingy wall of muscle, if the way his arm wraps around your waist and holds you there is any indicator. He grabs a plate from the stack.

“Ah, I need three,” you quickly tell him. He sighs, but does as you say, bringing down three plates and setting them on the counter. As soon as his hand is free, you’re being fully embraced by Sylus, both arms holding you close to him as he presses his face into your neck. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair. “Did I wake you up?”

It doesn’t seem like he’ll answer for a moment, until he breathes in deeply and presses a soft kiss along your shoulder. “No. I could smell whatever you’re making through the whole mansion.” His voice is quiet and rough, affected by his slumber.

You smile and turn your head to kiss his forehead. “I’m making cookies,” you say. “They’ll be done soon. I was gonna leave some for the chef and the twins. But most of them will be just for us.”

You glance at the timer, anxious to know how much time is left, but you still have several minutes before you need to worry about it. You tap his arms and he reluctantly loosens his hold, enough for you to turn around and hug him back. His arms tighten once more.

“You’re clingy when you’re tired, you know that?”

He huffs a laugh against your skin. “As if you haven’t insisted on having me carry you around everywhere before because you were, quote, ‘too tired to walk anymore.’”

You tug playfully at his hair. He groans and bites your neck. It’s not harsh, but it does sting. You’re sure it’ll leave a mark regardless.

“Now you’re just being mean,” he growls.

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Only a little. I think it’s cute.”

He doesn’t answer. His teeth nibble lightly along an invisible path, interspersed with light kisses. One of your hands combs through his soft hair, scratching his scalp lightly as you pet him. The other trails slowly along his back, side, and around to his stomach, searching for injuries hidden beneath his clothes. He notices, but he says nothing.

“Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He pulls his mouth from your skin, finally lifting his head to look down at you with half-lidded eyes. The striking red of his irises seem softer right now, like the delicate plumage of a cardinal. “I’m alright.”

You study his face, as if you’d know if he was lying to you. But you believe him. So you nod and press a feather-light kiss to his lips. He sighs at the contact, like he’d never been touched so sweetly for hundreds of years. It’s such a beautiful sound.

The oven’s alarm startles you out of the moment. Sylus groans with a frown, letting you go and stepping away until his back hits the kitchen island. Your hand squeezes his side apologetically before you pull away.

You don a couple of oven mitts and open the oven door. The cookies are all aligned on the baking sheets, golden brown and slightly oozy from the overkill of chocolate you added. You excitedly pull each pan out and set them on the stovetop, before turning off the oven.

The recipe says to let them cool for five minutes… but you don’t have the patience for that today. You grab one of the plates from the counter and a spatula from a drawer, and carefully deposit some cookies onto the plate. You’re positively beaming when you bring them over to Sylus, holding the plate up to him.

“Want one?”

He hums. “Yes, but…” He takes the plate from you and sets it behind him. “You’ll burn your mouth if you eat one now.”

You half-heartedly glare up at him. “C’mon, Sy, I’ll be careful. I worked hard on these!”

“And you can stand to wait a few more minutes to taste the fruits of your labor, sweetie.”

“You just want more cuddles, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He grins. “Is there any better way to pass the time?”

You sigh, long and dramatic. But you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, right over his erratic heartbeat. He tangles a hand in your hair this time, cupping the back of your neck to hold you in place.

He feels the exact moment you go to reach for the plate and snatches your hand away from it, holding it captive by intertwining your fingers together. “Sneaky, but I’m not tired enough to pull that trick, kitten.”

You chuckle and press your nose against his septum. “It was worth a shot.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months ago

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 7: Can I Keep You?✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic is coming to a close, and I’ve loved writing every word of this one 🥹 Thank you to @lotusbxtch for beta reading 🩵 I plan to write an epilogue for this, and I may write some one-shots to throw in if I get the inspiration in the future. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me!

Summary: Christmas with your parents and the Millers was all fine, until they caught you with Joel.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Tags: A little angst, arguments, no use y/n, lots of fluff, soft Joel, switching POVs, going to omit some tags due to spoilers

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Christmas Day is here before you know it as the cool air blows against your crimson sweater. It sinks through your denim jeans as you make your way back into the house, back to where Joel and Sarah sit in the living room. A football game is playing over the flat screen, and glistening lights flash against the huge tree that sits in the corner of the room.

Snowflakes tap lightly against the glass as your dad gives your mom the last of her gifts, your eyes flicking over to Joel as he leans into the back of the leather couch, a smile curled against the corner of his mouth as he steals glances your way every few seconds.

God, his smile gets you every single time, making butterflies flit through your stomach as you take in the brown doe eyes that you can’t seem to keep your eyes off. You just can’t believe he’s yours. Something he reminds you every single day.

You cling to the fleece blanket Joel gifted you, twisting your fingers against the soft material, bathing in the woodsy scent that sticks to it. And let’s not forget the Metallica concert tickets he got you, winking when your dad asked who you were taking. Joel fucking Miller, that’s who. Your man. Yours.

He’s wearing the new hunter green flannel you got him, the material clinging against his broad shoulders, biceps hugging the sleeves as you try not to drool in your spot because the man just looks so damn good.

You want to sit in his lap, rake your fingers through his greying curls, let his lips brush against yours while his large hands pull you flush to his strong chest, let his woodsy scent completely lather you as you get lost in this plush lips, fingers scraping over his soft scruff. You just want him.

“Hey, Sarah. Wanna go over to the Silverton’s for a few minutes with Claire and I?” Your dad asks as Sarah bounces off the couch, excited to visit because they always make her favorite chocolate chip cookies.

“Heck yeah! Dad, wanna come, too?” she asks as her long hair swishes behind her shoulders, her sparkling eyes finding yours after she calls your name a second later.

Joel flicks his brown eyes your way and shakes his head. “Nah, you go on, kid. Gonna stay back this time.”

She looks between the two of you and snickers, knowing exactly why you both had said no. She knows, and she absolutely loves the idea of you and Joel together which makes this whole situation much easier to navigate.

“Hun, you sure you don’t wanna come?” your dad asks as he pulls his bulky winter jacket on.

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just gonna sit around the fire and watch some football,” you reply, trying to hide your smile as Joel smirks your way.

“Football, huh? When did you become such a football fan?” he laughs.

You shrug your shoulders and smile. “Guess I figured it’s not too bad to watch.”

Joel shakes his head, chuckling under his breath at the memory of a few nights ago. You were sat on the edge of his bed, his cock stretching your drenched walls wide as he thrusted his hips up and down, your back flush to his broad chest as the glow of the tv played a football game you were paying no attention to, just focusing on how fucking good he felt thrusting his cock deep inside your pussy until he made you come hard and long.

“Think she figured out how hard those players play ball,” Joel smirks. You giggle at the memory and throw a fuzzy pillow over at him as he catches it before your parents can see.

“Suit yourself. See y’all in a little bit.” He waves as he rushes your mom and Sarah through the door with a present wrapped in glittery blue paper tucked snugly under his arm.

The second they’re gone, you throw your blanket off and make your way to Joel, collapsing onto the leather couch as he tucks you snuggly into his side. You slide the palm of your hand up the inside of his black shirt, resting your fingers on his warm stomach as you breathe in the smell of his woodsy cologne.

“Comfy?” he asks, chuckling as he pulls you closer into his broad body.

“Very,” you smile. He bends his head down and presses a kiss slowly to your forehead, his fingers tracing the ends of your spiral curls as you sigh at the softness that makes Joel just perfect.

“Figured,” he chuckles.

You watch the fire crackle with orange sparks in your vision, the Christmas lights shining brightly as the tree glitters with dark green lights twinkling in the corner. It’s quiet in here, a peaceful Christmas evening, and you have Joel all to yourself for the next few minutes.

Joel runs his fingers lazily over your back, pushing your hair across your left shoulder as he trails the back of his calloused index finger over your jawline. “I, ummm, got you one more gift,” he says nervously, his free hand raking down his greying scruff.

You sit up straight and stare at him, spellbound. Another present? “Joel, what more could you possibly give me? I mean, those Metallica tickets must’ve cost you a fortune! And that fancy steak dinner you took me to? You’ve done enough,” you giggle, letting your hand fall down on his denim clad thigh.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I know, but jus’ trust me. I think you’re gonna like this one,” he smiles as he digs deep inside the pocket of his dark jeans, pulling a light blue velvet jewelry box out as he displays it in the palm of his hand.

You open your mouth wide in shock, your index finger grazing the outside of the velvety case as your mind starts ticking like a timebomb. “What is it?” you whisper, not even recognizing the muttering voice that asks the question.

“Open it and see,” he smiles, his brown doe eyes sparkling with excitement as he hands you the tiny box.

You slowly grasp it in your palm, taking a deep breath as you carefully open the lid of the box. Your eyes grow wide when you see a silver chain necklace displayed inside, complete with a key that glints under the dim lights of the living room. You pull it out and assess it, running your fingers over the crisp edges, and then when you turn the key around you freeze.

Right there in the middle of the silver key are the words “Miller’s Girl” carved in fancy cursive, completewith a little heart to the right of the name. You freeze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you take in the most perfect gift he’s given you by far. “Joel…” you whisper, eyes glossing over as you think you know what this is.

He turns you toward him and leans in, a crooked smile pressed against his mouth as he looks at you with longing, syrupy eyes that make you want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. “I know you’ve been havin’ a hard time pickin’ an apartment out of all the ones we’ve looked at, but I want you to forget that. Forget every single one we’ve ever viewed, forget the paperwork, forget the costs, forget it all,” he murmurs quickly.

You drop the jewelry box on the floor without a thought in your mind, one hand latched onto the silver necklace, the other laced through his fingers, holding on to every single word he’s telling you.

“You don’t belong in any of them. You jus’ belong in my bed, in my house, with me,” he states, honey-glazed eyes locking with yours as heat builds in your chest.

“Joel…” you whisper, losing your breath as you pull yourself back together. “Are you asking me to…?”

“Yes,” he sighs, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear tenderly. “I’m askin’ you to move in with me because I jus’ can’t stand that thought of not havin’ you in my arms every single night now, sweetheart. Wanna take this a step further, if that’s what you want, too,” he smiles as he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna see what it’s like wakin’ up to your gorgeous face in the mornings, wanna know what it’s like havin’ you in my space permanently. Move in with me.”

Your eyes glaze over with pure admiration and love for every single word Joel just spilled from his lips. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You throw your arms around his neck and wrap him tight in your embrace as his arms tangle around your back. “Yes, a million times yes!” you shriek, planting your lips on his as he pulls you down against his lap.

When he pulls away, he spins you around, instructing you to hold your hair up as he carefully latches the necklace around your neck. When you turn back around and face him, one hand is caressing your cheek softly while the other is curving down your personalized necklace, the literal key to his heart.

Your thumb traces over the words Miller’s Girl and end on the heart as his hand comes down to clasp around yours. “Miller’s Girl, huh?” you ask with a wide smile splayed all over your mouth.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Thought I’d get it carved on there to remind you jus’ who you belong to so you never forget,” he smiles, his glistening eyes bright and beautiful as he presses a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles.

You giggle and shake your head in amazement, watching the absolute love of your life express just how he feels about you. It’s all so surreal, all so perfect. And you honestly think it couldn’t get much better than this.

“You really want me to move in?” you whisper as you look into those gentle brown eyes you can’t get enough of.

“I really do, sweetheart,” he smiles.

He cups your chin and brings you to his mouth slowly, and then your lips are on his. The kiss is slow, passionate as your fingers curl around his soft flannel, breathing in the woodsy cologne that makes your head dizzy.

“Never gonna let you go,” he whispers as his mouth crashes back down on yours while your arms lock around his neck, and he pulls you flush to his chest.

You get so wrapped up in the kiss that you don't hear the front door being shoved open, and then your world shifts and stops in the next second.

“What the hell is this!” your dad shouts across the room.

You frantically pull away from Joel and shoot up from the couch, clutching your necklace with wide eyes as you freeze. Oh, shit.

Joel pushes himself off the leather couch and holds a hand out. “George, I can explain,” Joel replies softly, but you can see the panic flaring in his dark brown eyes.

“Can you explain why you have your mouth and your hands all over my daughter?!” he yells angrily as his roar echoes around the vicinity of the house. Sarah looks between you and Joel and wishes she could help; your mom just stands there with her hand on her chest like she can’t believe this is happening.

Joel takes a deep breath and sighs. “Jus’ cool it, George. I can explain.”

Your dad cuts Joel’s voice off and shoves past him, snatching your wrist as he starts to drag you toward the sliding glass door. “Excuse me, I need to talk to my daughter alone. I’ll deal with you next,” he growls as he throws you outside on the patio and slams the door shut, only having it become open again as your mom slips outside.

Your blood races in your body, and you can’t stop the sheer panic that’s making your heart beat straight out of your chest. “Wanna tell me why the fuck my best friend was all over you?” he asks sternly with his big hands on his hips.

“We… we're together!” you stutter out.

“Together? You mean to tell me you two have been dating behind my back?” His eyes glow almost red, and you fight to hide behind anything to shield yourself from how mad he looks.

“Yes! We’ve been dating! Not like we could’ve told you because this is how your reaction would’ve been!”

“That don’t give you the right to be sneaking behind my back, little girl. And Joel?! For the love of god, he’s twice your age! You know how bad that looks having my best friend go after my daughter who’s still in college?” he bites out with gnashing teeth.

“I’m not a child, Dad! I’m twenty-six-years-old,” you pout while you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the bite of frigid wind blast through your sweater. “And I’m not in college. I’m in law school, which is super hard to even get into in the first place. And you know what? I’m making straight A’s! But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Because once again, you’re disregarding my accomplishments and making me feel awful about them.” You feel warm tears splash against your cheeks while your mom just stands there in shock. She wouldn’t dare interrupt when your dad is having a meltdown, but you see it in her glossy eyes that she doesn’t agree with him. Maybe she’s on your side after all.

“I’m not overlooking your accomplishments,” he scoffs as he shakes his head.

“Yes, you are! Are you hearing yourself?”

“Just cool it, kid. Enough. He’s forty-five, twice your age. What the fuck were you thinking? Did he manipulate you into this or did he just decide it was okay to screw around with my daughter?” he asks with an angry tick of his jaw.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all! Joel is a nice guy, Dad. He would never hurt me. He cares about me, just like I care about him. And I really really like him, Dad.” You catch your breath and loosen the tight grip on your necklace as it falls against your chest. That was clearly a mistake because now he sees the glint of the key, and his eyes grow furious.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks angrily as he snatches it and yanks it off your neck. You reach for it, but he swipes it away as he inspects the silver key. “Miller’s girl. The hell does he think he’s doing? Is that a key to his place? Is that why you’ve taken so long to find an apartment because you were planning all along to move in with him?!” His voice is so splattered in anger that you barely recognize the man that stands in front of you, even your mom looks taken aback with wide eyes.

“No, Dad! God, just stop! If you can’t talk to me like a normal adult, then just stop. Me and Joel are together whether you like it or not. And that’s not going to stop either of our feelings.”

“Feelings, huh? That what this is?” He scoffs, scowling down at the necklace as his thumb pierces into the metal. “You clearly don’t know anything, hun. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“But Dad, I love him!” you whine, biting your lip to keep fresh tears from slipping down your cheeks.

“Love?!” he ridicules, spitting out the word like it’s poison on his tongue. “You don’t know anything about love or Joel,” he mutters.

“No? I think I know a hell of a lot more about Joel than you do. If you really took a good look at the picture, you’d see how clearly in love me and Joel are with each other. And this is why we decided to not tell you because you just wouldn’t understand. This is why I can’t tell you anything! Because you just throw it back in my face and never support my decisions. God, just for once don’t try to fight me on the one thing I want!” You blow out a deep breath and fist your tight knuckles at your sides.

“He’s not a good fit for you,” he mumbles under his breath while his fingers tap mindlessly against your necklace.

“No? Do you know who took me to Galveston when you canceled last minute? Joel did! And who took me around to look at multiple apartments, who spent hours trying to help me find exactly what I wanted? Joel! And you know who is always there for me, who helps me study for tests in my law classes, who is there for me no matter what time of day it is? Joel, Joel, Joel! That’s who! Not you, the man who’s supposed to always be there for me but can’t be. So forgive me for falling in love with someone that could give me everything I needed when I was never given those things in the first place!”

He looks at you with his jaw ticked, his eyes red from the anger that boils inside him. And maybe you see a tad bit of sorrow and regret in his lost eyes, but he doesn’t even apologize. He just clutches the silver necklace tighter and forms his mouth in a tight line. “Hun, just let me explain,” he tries.

“Explain?” You laugh and wipe a tear from your lash line.

“Yes! Look, I know I haven’t always been there for you with work and everything. But hun, Joel is not the answer to…”

You turn sharply and cut him off, looking to your mom who just stands in the corner meekly by the sliding door with her eyes wide and mouth locked shut. “Mom, please! Back me up here?”

“George, just listen to her. Will you? You’re not hearing her,” she tries with an even breath.

“I’ve heard enough!” he barks as he turns back to you with a deep scowl on his face, obviously still very unhappy with you. But when was he ever happy with you in the first place? Almost never.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have. Because you never listen. Thanks for letting me down once again, Dad.” You brush past him without stopping for the necklace, letting the tears burn hot in your eyes as the world slowly caves in on you. You don’t even look at your mom as you rush past her, just needing to be anywhere that they’re not so you can breathe.

Breathe. Remember how to breathe.

You sniffle and rub at your blurry eyes, and then you find Joel standing in the middle of the living room with the saddest brown eyes he’s ever given you. This just makes you cry more.

“Baby, you alright?” he asks with a shaky breath, reaching out an open hand for you as if he can take all the pain away.

“No.” You push away from his advances and knock your shoulder against his, tugging away until you’re practically sprinting for the door. You don’t stop for Sarah who’s standing in the kitchen, don’t stop for Joel calling your name in that broken tone of his, all you do is rush for fresh air where you’re alone, where you can think. But you don’t really want to be alone, do you? You just want Joel. But your dad has completely ruined that. He ruined everything.

Joel feels the icy sting as your shoulder brushes past him; he sees the tears cloud your beautiful eyes as they cascade down your flawless face. He knows he’s fucked, knows your father will hate him now, but all he wants to do is pull you into his strong arms so he can hold you and tell you everything will be alright, that the two of you will be just fine. Because he’s not letting you go. No. He’ll never let you go. Not even if your father hates his guts now.

Just when he starts to turn and go to you, he feels a looming presence behind him that feels a lot like a rush of cold ice freezing him out.

“Joel, a word.” George’s deep voice fills the room, and Joel nods and walks with his head down low like he’s a puppy being scolded for making a mess on the kitchen floor.

The air feels frigid, and he digs his large hands nervously into the pocket of his jeans while he stands on the back porch and looks over to see George practically tearing him to shreds with just his predatory eyes across the way.

“How long?” His voice is clipped, and Joel shivers at the sound of that icy tone.

“George, I…”

“How. Long.”

“Almost seven months…” he says quietly with his head down low.

“Jesus Christ, Joel.”

He holds up a palm and tries to explain, but his shaky breath doesn’t do him any favors. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what? That’s my daughter, Joel!” His eyes glow violent against the hue of the orange sunset that’s painted in the sky, murky clouds trying to fog over the brightness like the depths of his dark soul right now.

“I know! You don’t think I didn’t think of that before I started this whole thing?” Joel’s jaw ticks, and his thick fingers form into tight fists as he tries to stay in control.

“I don’t know, Joel. You tell me.” George narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he waits for an explanation.

“It’s not like I planned to fall for your daughter, it just happened.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” George slams his hand against the closed grill, and Joel sees the glimmer of your silver necklace that sits locked in his unforgiving fist. The one with the key to his heart he so casually gave you earlier. Joel’s eyes glisten with frustrated tears, but he doesn’t let a single one fall. He’s stronger than that.

“Because this is why I didn’t, why we didn’t! Because we knew you’d be pissed.” His rugged voice comes out clipped because he’s tired, so very tired of hiding his feelings. No more, he’ll lay it out thick if he has to.

“You’re damn right I’m pissed! You’ve been secretly dating my twenty-six-year-old daughter without me knowing and have been sneaking around this whole time. Hell, did anyone else know?”

“Sarah knew,” Joel says quietly as he takes a step back.

“Oh, so you tell her but not me?” George looks positively pissed, to say the least.

“I didn’t tell her, she figured it out herself. Saw us on a date, and I couldn’t cover that up. So yes, she knows. And Tommy knows, too.”

“Even better,” George chuckles. “And this? What do you have to say about this?” He clutches the silver key in his palm and stares angrily at Joel while his mouth ticks up in a deep scowl.

“That’s… I asked her to move in with me.” There’s no getting around this, so he might as well come clean. But every bone in his body tells him to grab the necklace and run out the door. He needs to make sure you’re okay. That’s the only thing that matters now.

“Move in with you! Why would you…”

“Because I love her…” His voice is soft, quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll disturb anyone that hears.

“I don’t wanna hear—”

“George, let him talk. I want to hear this,” Claire turns and nods to him. “Go on, Joel.” Joel hesitates but gives her a tight-lipped smile and says thank you with his softening eyes.

George pinches the bridge of his nose while he waits, and Joel takes a deep breath before he speaks, letting his nerves settle before he spills it all. “She’s been so stressed tryin’ to find the perfect apartment, and nothing right was workin’. And I jus’… I’d rather her move in with me. ‘Cause I want her there, and I’d look after her and take care of her, and…”

George grunts and clenches the silver key harder, but Claire just gives him a stern look and tells Joel to continue. “Go on,” she encourages with a small smile.

Joel takes a breath and starts again. “Look, George, I never meant to fall for your daughter, but I did. And you know what? It was the best decision of my life. She’s so… she’s so kind and smart as hell. And she jus’ is the brightest ray of sunshine and lights up my entire life. And she’s so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Claire tears up a little in the corner, and Joel picks absentmindedly at the fringe on his flannel. He can’t help but grin as he thinks of your beautiful smile, the way you make him feel as if no one else in the world exists when you’re with him. You’re like the golden sunset that stays up just long enough to wrap him in pure warmth and sunlight, the one thing that keeps his heart pumping through his veins. You’re it for him, he thinks you always have been. He just didn’t know it till this year.

“I never thought this would happen, but it did. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it meant ruining our friendship and you never forgiving me. I can’t give her up, George. I won’t. She makes me so fuckin’ happy, and I’d die before there was a day I ever hurt her. Losing her isn’t a choice for me because I love her, will continue to love her for as long as I live.”

“Joel…” Claire smiles with a gleam in her clear eyes. “You really love her?”

“Mmm. I really do. I’d do jus’ about anything for that girl. She’s so precious to me. So forgive me if I’ve spent the last almost seven months givin’ her everything I possibly could. She has my heart and always will.”

Claire shifts and wipes a stray tear from her eyes, giving him a warm smile that says she’s so happy her daughter has him. And that takes some relief off his burdened back. Now it’s just George he has to worry about.

George stares and stares at the silver necklace with knit eyebrows, contorting his features into something Joel can’t make out what it means. There’s a beat of hesitance before George looks up and stares directly into Joel’s eyes, like he’s hearing him clearly for the first time. “You really love my little girl, don’t you…” His eyes clear up, no more hatred or scowling or anything remotely hostile. They’re just awestruck.

“With all my heart,” Joel mutters through the chill of the evening.

The cold breeze slips through Joel’s tousled curls, running straight down his spine while he waits to see what will happen next. Waiting to see if his best friend will toss him overboard for the sharks to tear him to shreds, or waiting for the acceptance that it’s okay to date his daughter.

It’s like the world stops spinning, the only noise is the bated breath he’s holding while he watches his best friend flip the gifted necklace back and forth repeatedly in his palm. The silence is torture.

Finally, George looks back up and sighs before licking his bottom lip and muttering. “Here, take it.” He holds the necklace by the clasp and jangles it in front of him, edging on Joel to take it.

Joel stares at the gleaming key, reading Miller’s Girl in silver letters, the one that belongs to his girl. And when he hesitates, George shoves out his arm again, letting the necklace toss and turn in his grasp. “Take it,” he repeats, a little softer this time.

He walks forward, scuffing his shiny boots against the pavement and stops in front of his best friend, till the key is safely back in Joel’s grasp. He looks up slowly and sees George’s eyes almost tear up, but they still hold some faint hesitation in those uncertain irises.

“Look, it’s gonna take me a while to be okay with this. You’re gonna have to give me a little space to process this, but I… I give you permission to date her because… because I trust you more than any of those other clowns she’s dated. And you lookout for her, especially when I’m not around, and you obviously care a lot. And sounds like you love her a lot. So… if this ever leads to more than just moving in together and dating then… just ask me next time, but I think I’ll be okay with it.”

Joel’s eyes go wide at the words, and before he knows it he has his arms wrapped tightly around his best friend’s back in pure shock. George pounds a strong hand on Joel’s back and mumbles under his breath that that’s enough. Claire gives him a gentle smile and watches the two friends make up in peace.

“Thank you, George. For trustin’ me with your daughter.”

George shoos him away and grits his teeth together into a pressed smile. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ go talk to your girl, Joel. Let the old man have some space for a few minutes. I need a drink,” he sighs as he heads back inside for a cold beer in the fridge.

Joel nods to Claire and then makes a beeline for the front door, knowing you're sitting out there in the cold with tears streaming down your beautiful face. He has to fix it.

The sunset slowly slipping under the grey clouds doesn’t help your mood as another tear escapes down your cheek, falling to the ground with a splash as you hug your knees tighter to your chest while you lean against the front porch railing. You always knew your father wouldn’t approve, and now he’s ruined your most favorite thing in this world.

You almost miss the large figure that stands behind you until he’s kneeling down and wrapping his arms tightly around you like a warm blanket that drapes over your skin. His usual coffee scent and strong cologne showers you in a still calmness that only he brings you, and suddenly you feel like you’re home.

“Joel,” you sniffle into his warm chest, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while his big hands run up and down your back in soothing motions.

“‘S’alright, sweetheart. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.” His gentle tone surrounds you in a cloud of comfort, and you suddenly feel warm and light for the first time since your parents saw the two of you kiss.

“But they… my dad…” You can’t even speak clearly. Your words are all warped and clipped each time you think of how angry your dad was, how violently he ripped into your heart when all you were trying to do was tell him how much Joel meant to you. It was a disaster that was waiting to happen, and you let it.

“Hey, look at me.” He tips your chin up and brushes the next tear away that clashes against your eyelashes. “Everything’s okay now. We’re okay.”

You look at him with confusion swirling in your irises as your fingers clasps around his fuzzy flannel you love to wear so much. “We’re okay?” you whisper out in a daze.

“Mhm,” he nods as a warm smile slips over his plush mouth. He digs into the pocket of his jeans and grasps the silver chain in his palm. Your necklace.

“Think this belongs to you.” Joel opens his palm and reveals the silver key that has your name written all over it. The key that promises for a future together, your future. A life with him in it, a step before a lifetime together.

“Joel… he gave it back?” You gawk as your finger brushes against the metal, clasping your hand over his so you can feel the promise of forever in the warmth of his calloused palm.

“Mhm. It belongs to you.” He pushes it into your open palm and closes your fingers over the cold silver, letting his hand linger over yours as his warm breath invades your space.

You take a moment to register what this means, what this might promise. Did this mean your dad… Your eyes flick to his with agility, and your lips part as you exhale a long breath. “Does this mean... Did my dad…”

A smile curls against his mouth and he nods. “‘S’alright now. After I talked to him, after I explained myself, he listened. He’s okay with us, darlin’. Well, as good as he’ll be right now. Might take some time to mend our friendship back to how it was, but s’okay. We’re gonna be jus’ fine. And you and me? We’re gonna be more than fine.”

You throw your arms around Joel’s neck and sink your lips against his, letting his cinnamon taste melt into your mouth until you can taste nothing but him. He pulls you against his broad chest and strokes his calloused fingers against the back of your neck, tugging until you’re flush to him so he can ravish and serenade your mouth with the taste and feel of his warm, lush tongue.

It only takes minutes of heated passion until he pulls his lips from yours and rests his forehead against yours. You’re both out of breath, but you guess that’s how the two of you always are. Always giving your entire being to each other until the other is completely satisfied. But it’s not about that this time, it’s about finally being able to express your love for each other out in public. No more hiding from your parents, your friends, no one. It’s you and Joel against the world now, and there’s not anything you can’t conquer now.

He moves your hair across one shoulder and clasps the necklace around your neck, leaving it right where it belongs now. Yours.

“There,” he smiles as he glides his fingers over the silver key. “Right back where it belongs. Right over your heart.”

You take a moment to admire the syrupy eyes that flick to yours as you rake your fingers through his silvery scruff, dragging your nails slowly as he groans at the feel of you. “I love when you do that,” he murmurs as his thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately.

“Well, get used to it because I’m about to be living with you,” you smile.

“Mmm. I like the sound of that. You in my arms every single night? Wakin’ up to the glow of your stunning smile? Bein’ able to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want? Yeah, I could get used to this.” His lips drag down your cheek and end on your lips softly, but then they’re gone in a flash as he traces his fingertips over the back of your hand.

“Slow mornings with freshly brewed coffee, your lips, and me curled up in your lap? Yeah, I could get used to this, too.” Your lips find his once more, and then you’re floating off in a little bubble, to a place only you and Joel know how to get to.

When his lips untangle from yours, he smiles and gives you those loving sweet eyes you never can seem to get enough of. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Joel.”

The evening slips by in a rush. Your parents are weirdly mellow about the whole thing, but your dad still sends a couple snarls your way when he sees you and Joel holding hands. But he surprises you when he sends you off with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you go back to Joel’s house.

It doesn’t take him long till Joel and him are doing fishing trips, watching football games together, and going out for beers again. And you kind of love that Joel didn’t have to lose his best friend over you. No. Joel got to keep both of you, and you couldn’t help but tear up when you saw how close they were again just a month after the whole Christmas disaster. You guess some things just fall into place like you and Joel did.

You never expected to fall in love with your dad’s best friend, but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. And now? You’re finally free to live your life with your favorite person by your side.

You don’t know what the next year will bring or the year after, but you know Joel will be there no matter what.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller #dbf! joel #dbf! joel miller #dbf joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #no outbreak!joel miller #no use of y/n #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal character writers

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dyeher · 11 months ago

Text

Warnings: dad! mitsuya, husband! mitsuya, possible breeding [fic ends before spicy shit].

Notes: mitsuya fluff inspired by my baby fever. unedited read at your own risk.

Notes: someone @audrinui <- said “tag Cass” so @s4no ❤️💋

It’s ten years later and Mitsuya is scowling at a tiny version of himself who has just managed to unravel an entire spool of red fabric onto the floor of his home workshop.

He takes a deep breath, crouching so he’s eye level with the little boy.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come in here?”

The little boy nods.

“So why are you in here?”

The boy blinks rapidly and Mitsuya bites his tongue to stifle a sigh. He can feel the oncoming tantrum as it simmers in his son’s face.

“Hey,” Mitsuya tries to calm him before he even starts. “I’m not mad,” he puts his hands up in a motion of surrender. “I just want to know what you were looking for, little monster.”

The little boy frowns at the nickname, his fingers twining nervously in front of him as he debates whether or not his father is being honest.

“C’mon tell me,” Mitsuya encourages. “Maybe daddy can help you?”

His son cocks his head in a way that reminds him so much of himself that Takashi can’t hide his smile fast enough. The answering grin that splits his son’s face knocks the wind out of his lungs. His son might be a carbon copy of him but his smile was all you.

Mitsuya reaches for him, plucking him up into his arms and propping him on his hip. “Gonna tell me what you were looking for in here kid?”

“‘s looking for my surprise,” he answers, head ducking into Mitsuya’s neck.

Mitsuya heaves a defeated sigh. “Kid, we talked about this. You’ll ruin your own surprise if you find the present before your birthday.”

Mitsuya feels the pout against his neck. “But- but I want to know now.”

Mitsuya can sympathize. The waiting game is a hard game to play as an adult, he might not remember what it was like as a kid but he can imagine it must be hell. He casts a longing glance at the fabric on the floor before leaving the room and heading into the kitchen. “How about we do something else?”

His son pulls away from his neck. Eyes narrowing at his father. “Like what?”

Sometimes Mitsuya has to remind himself that his kid is seven years old. That he’s growing. Soon he’ll be ten and then eighteen and then he’ll be bringing a girl home, and then he’ll be moving out and the house will be back to peaceful. And his threads and fabrics will stay on their spools.

He frowns. He’s not sure he likes how fast his son is growing. There’s nothing appealing about an empty house anymore. He places his son on the counter and braces his hands on either side of him.

“Wanna bake cookies for your momma, little monster?”

His son’s eyes light up, widening as he nods enthusiastically. “Chocolate chip!” he yells and Mitsuya realizes with a sudden jolt of awareness that he wants another one.

Another kid.

He goes through the motions of baking with a seven-year-old, even indulging his son in a minor flour spat, and then cleans them both up. By the time you get home they’ve retired to the couch and your son tackles you down next to him.

Mitsuya is distracted. His earlier realization sitting heavy on his mind as he watches you get your son ready for bed. He listens and inputs dutifully during story time and then presses a kiss on his son’s head before following you to your shared room.

“Takashi?”

He jolts when you wrap your arms around his waist in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

He knows better than to try to tell you nothing at this point. If he’s so distracted you can sneak up at him he knows you’ll know he’s lying.

“I want another little monster,” he blurts, eyes closing when he feels you stiffen behind him.

“Are you sure?”

He meets your eyes in the mirror. “Positive.”

“And this isn’t just your desire to stuff me with cum?”

Mitsuya goes rigid, images flashing across his memory in rapid succession at your words. But- “No. I want another one,” he repeats. “Maybe a little girl this time.”

You squint at him. “Okay.”

He smiles. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow I know you’re tire—”

“Shut up and fuck me Takashi,” you chuckle, already backing away toward your bed. “Before I change my mind.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

#mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takahashi x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr: beyablade.

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wontoruu · 1 month ago

Text

Cookies and Crushes

pairing: non-idol!yoon jeonghan x reader

type: fluffy

tags: bittersweet jeonghan, he knows ur lying, friends to lovers, his love language is touch and pissing you off, dino can’t keep secrets to save his life, college student jeonghan, idk how to tag sorryy

playing now: melting - kali uchis

summary: yoon jeonghan hears from a little birdie that you may have feelings for him.

author’s note: my first ever fic so pls excuse any errors or odd things … hope u enjoy! also i wrote this in my notes so if formatting is weird that’s why :,)

✩ ‧ ₊˚ ˋ ° • * ⁀ ➷

Sunday has been a bore, all of your friends too busy to hang out today. You’ve resorted to baking cookies, daydreaming of giving them to a special someone tomorrow morning. Your phone buzzes with a new message.

hani ^_^: can i come over?

Cold water awakens your nerves, your heart racing and suspicions invading your mind.

you: that’s random

you: why?

Immediately after sending the message, you swipe out of the chat, switching off your phone and continuing to scoop the balls of cookie dough onto the baking tray. Tension pulls on your shoulder, curiosity forcing your hands back to your phone, viewing your notifications.

hani ^_^: just wanna see you

hani ^_^: do u not wanna see me? :(

You roll your eyes, pausing at first to think of a way to response before opening the chat.

you: jeonghan you’re you.

you: i never know what’s happening in that pretty head of urs

you: what if ur gonna kill me

You sigh at your attempt of flirting, your not so obvious crush on Jeonghan seeming to thankfully not have gotten through his head. It’s nice, but also infuriating. You suppose that when you’re a guy as fine as he is, everyone is automatically sweeter to you. You finish off placing the dough balls, carefully placing the baking tray in the preheated oven as you savor the warmth of the open oven. As you close it, your phone dings.

hani ^_^: aw u think i’m pretty?

hani ^_^: i’d never kill you don’t worry about it baby ;)

His antics make your heart race a little faster, though you won’t admit to yourself how easy it is for him to catch you. He’s like this to everyone, you remind yourself, he’s too beautiful not to be.

you: i’m honored to make the list of the various girls you call baby

you: also a serial killer wouldn’t admit who they’d kill now would they?

As you close your phone, you’re worried that your deflection of his flirtations may be too obvious about your huge crush on him, but you’re too far gone now. You just know that Seungkwan would flame you for how you’re talking to him, and even more so for not asking for his advice on what to say. You lean on the countertop, thinking intensely, when your phone goes off again.

hani ^_^: no such list babyy

hani ^_^: let me come over pleasee

hani ^_^: i’ll behave i pinky promise!!

You tap a finger on your lips, considering his request, forgetting that it was the original intention of this conversation in the first place. Your apartment is clean, having cleaned it yesterday, so that wouldn’t be an issue. Even better, you’d have warm cookies ready for him.

you: hmm fine only if you behave

you: n i got a surprise for you :))

hani ^_^: how sweet of you

hani ^_^: i’ve got something for you too actually

hani ^_^: be there in 20 :)

Excitement floods your veins, thinking of what he could be giving you. Would he also give you baked goods? Maybe a charm for your bracelet? Or maybe he’s just bringing food? Your mind brims with possibilities, nerves flaring.

Finally, the oven goes off and you go to take out the cookies. When the oven opens, the mesmerizingly sweet smell of the cookies floods your apartment, following you as you place the hot tray on a cooling rack. You hang up your oven mitts, going to sit on your couch and wait for Jeonghan. You check the time, and he should be here soon which means that adrenaline has begun to flood your body, anxious for his arrival.

The doorbell rings. Finally. You ecstatically hop onto your feet to let him in, slowing your steps as you get to the doorway so he doesn’t hear the patter of your enthusiasm on the floor. You glance through the peephole, seeing him holding a bottle of wine and chocolates. A flush begins on your cheeks, a little — okay, a lot — curious as to why he has gifts in arm.

Opening the door, you’re met with Jeonghan in his newly blond hair, a white windbreaker over a white shirt, black billowy track pants, and a maroon cap. He looked like the perfect boyfriend, a bottle of wine and chocolates in his hand. Beautiful.

“I feel underdressed now,” You say, a flush growing on your face, “Are those for me?” An obvious question, but just to make sure.

He laughs softly, “Of course they are, pretty. Who else would they be for?” He carries both the wine and chocolates into the apartment as he passes you, eyes wandering. Placing the wine bottle on the counter, he’s looking around your apartment and you feel yourself shrink in from his inspection.

“I made cookies, but you’ve outdone me with the chocolates and wine.” You say, following him to the kitchen but stopping by the bar, where he’s looking around your cabinets for wine glasses you assume. He’s been over to your house only a few times before, but he’s the type of person that makes themselves at home regardless of where they go.

“I had to bring my favorite girl some gifts,” He says as he finally finds your glasses before you could tell him, “You like them?”

“Favorite girl, huh?” You say as he approaches across the bar where you sit, “What favor do you need from me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Who says I need a favor?” He looks at me, head cocking to the side before he pours our drinks, “I did say I just wanted to see you.”

Flustered, you stand up to plate the cookies, “Right, sure. What does Hannie want from me?” Your back turned to him, you feel more bold in how you talk to him. Pulling the cookies off the tray, you flinch slightly at the heat but proceed to plate them all neatly.

“Nothing, really. Is it so hard to believe that I just miss your face?” Honesty seeps through his silky words.

You turn in his direction, now suddenly faced with Jeonghan’s body turned completely towards you, eyes twinkling. Turning away, you walking back to your side of the bar, placing the plates cookies in between you both.

“A little bit. You’ve never done this, and you’ve never brought me gifts like these before.” You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to explain himself.

“Alright, fine. I have a secret motive, but it’s nothing bad. I just heard a rumor, that’s all.” He smirks into his glass, taking a sip while he looks at you. You’re nervous, worried he might finally find out you have a crush on him. But you know that there’s only one person that knows, and Seungkwan would never tell Jeonghan about your little crush.

“A rumor? Care to elaborate?” You attempt to mask the worry in your voice, but it might show more in your voice than you think.

“I heard through a little birdie that you have feelings for someone. True?” It feels as though he’s pried open your head and stolen your biggest worry and said it aloud, though you find some solace in him not saying if he knows who it is.

“Maybe. Whats your source?” You ask, wanting someone to blame.

“And have you tell them off? No thanks. And maybe isn’t an answer, it’s an easy yes or no.” His eyes grow more inquisitive, prodding you for the answer he wants.

“I’m just curious, I won’t tell them off.” You say, mentioning nothing more of the crush, attempting to change the topic.

“Sure you won’t, like how the sky won’t be blue tomorrow,” He looks at me significantly, “Do you like someone or not?”

“What’s it to you?” You answer instead, avoiding his eyes and looking out the window to your right.

“I wanna know if it’s true you have feelings for me.” He says finally, not wanting to dance around the subject any longer. Your blush creeps deeper into your cheeks, his direct words echoing in your head. How does he know?

“Mm.” You hum, caught like a deer in headlights and attempting to think of what to say. What could you even say? Surely you should just admit to it, the silence ringing in your ears the longer you leave him answerless.

“Answer me, baby.” He smiles into his glass, watching you attempt to come up with a way to sidestep the question. He sees the gears turning, the flush warming your cheeks, and he already has the answer he needs from those signs alone.

Dino would be furious, having accidentally spilled the beans of your crush on Jeonghan last night when his dance crew was out for drinks, and making Jeonghan promise not to say anything to you. But Jeonghan had already come up with a plan, knowing his hope of his feelings being mutual is now true.

“Maybe.” You say in a small voice, still not looking at him. Only as he walks into your line of sight do you look up at him, his back illuminated by the sunlight, his face unfairly pretty.

“You do, don’t you?” He smiles knowingly, the answer to his questions all over your beautiful face. His right hand reaches your face, cradling your chin and stroking your cheek.

“It’s all over your face,” You look at him sternly when he speaks, “It’s cute.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You insist, stubborn, “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, “Is that what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I say too quickly, “You’re just a friend.”

“Hm. What do you want, cutie? Because I heard that you want more than that.”

“Then I guess they’re wrong.” You say standing up in place, turning away from him to grab the wine bottle that he placed inconveniently close to his side. You pour a hefty glass, ready to continue playing this game.

He moves behind you, placing a hand on your hips and another on the bar, “Are they really?” His breath is hot against your ear as you take a sip, “Why can’t you look at me in the eyes and tell me that?”

“I’ve already said it.”

“And yet you won’t look me in the eyes. Nervous I’ll know you’re lying?”

“Nope. Just don’t want to give you the satisfaction of looking at my eyes,” You lie, too obviously.

“Oh, I’m plenty satisfied already. My hands on you, making you all nervous.” To further prove his point, his hands draw shapes on top of your clothes, though it almost feels like he’s searing your skin.

“You’re an ass.” You weakly spit out.

“I don’t think you believe that yourself, honestly.” Growing flustered, you finally turn around to face him, a satisfied smile on his face as you feed into his teasing.

“I don’t like you,” You say again to remind him, your voice weak with deception.

“Just admit it already, sweetheart,” Placing both his hands on your hips now, hands roaming and leaning further into your space, “You like me. And you love it.” His hands dip under your loose shirt, the contact forcing the truth to the surface.

“Maybe I do.” You say back, eyes flickering to his to watch his expression.

“Say it properly, please.” His smile is too sweet as he speaks again, teasing you.

“I have feelings for you, Yoon Jeonghan. Even if you are an ass.” You roll your eyes, moving forward to lean your head on his chest to escape his gaze.

“The feelings are mutual, pretty girl,” He chuckles at your head burying in his chest, one hand reaching up to brush through your hair.

“You’re mean.” You whine into his chest.

“Sorry, baby. You’re so much fun to tease.”He brings you away from his chest to look at you, really look at you, beautiful in the glow of the sun, finally having you.

“You just hate me, actually.” You joke, despite the fact that he did literally just admit that he likes you too.

“Aw come on, you know I have feelings for you.” He grins a little sweeter, and just to prove his point, his lips meet yours. The kiss is tender, slow and soft as he savors the feeling of your lips on his. The hands that were once on your hips are now tightening around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer into him, as you loop your arms loosely around his neck. He pulls away, swiping his thumb on your lips.

The cookies may be uneaten, but the sweetness finds you anyways, your mind etching this morning into the walls of your heart.

#svt fluff #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fluff #first time fic #friends to lovers #jeonghan x you #dino mentioned #seventeen fluff #yoon jeonghan x y/n #soft #jeonghan fluff #college student jeonghan #wontoruu

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diorsluv · 11 months ago

Text

feather , part 1

“ not another take ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, markestapa, luca.fantilli, and 78,682 others

yourusername after 19 years of being my brother, jamie still takes the worst photos

view all comments

jamie.drysdale I WAS TAKING 50 PICS PER SECOND.

→ yourusername AND I WASN’T READY FOR ANY OF THEM.

→ jamie.drysdale you’re so ungrateful

→ yourusername love u too

trevorzegras is he ruining your trip?

→ yourusername oh my god he’s been annoying me nonstop for the past theee days

→ jamie.drysdale stop spreading rumors

→ yourusername YOU WOKE ME UP AT FOUR IN THE MORNING TO ASK ME IF I WANTED MCDONALDS FOR LUNCH

→ jamie.drysdale THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM

username4 ur so stunning

username66 MY IDOLLL

markestapa come back to michigan we miss you 😞

→ yourusername YOU miss me????

→ markestapa good lord HE said he misses you a lot

→ yourusername idk who “he” is markie, ur gonna have to specify 🤔🤔

→ edwards.73 he’s WHINING

→ dylanduke25 he just collapsed onto the ground

→ mackie.samo i can hear him crying from the other side of the yost

→ jamie.drysdale WHO IS “HE”??? yourusername DO YOU KNOW WHO “HE” IS??? WHY DOES HE MISS YOU HELLO?

→ yourusername calm ur tits bro ✋

username1 what’s going on in mark’s replies..

lhughes_06 when are you coming back 🙏

lhughes_06 leave cali and come back 🙏

lhughes_06 imysm please come back to michigan 🙏

lhughes_06 i’m so lonely without you i need you to come back 🙏

lhughes_06 THOSE COMMENTS WERE NOT ME I SWEAR

→ yourusername awww i can’t believe you missed me that much

→ lhughes_06 NO PLEASE RUT STOLE MY PHONE YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME

→ rutgermcgroarty dude i’m deathly sick rn i physically cannot have stolen his phone

→ jackhughes aw moosey long distance isn’t working?

→ lhughes_06 WHY ARE YOU TARGETTING ME WHAT DID I DO

_quinnhughes are you flying up here when we play the ducks?

→ yourusername YOU KNOW IT

→ jamie.drysdale i’m trying to convince her not to i promise

→ yourusername i wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with my huggy wuggy bear

→ _quinnhughes blocked.

username29 jamie’s an amazing photographer

liked by jamie.drysdale

username93 LUKE’S COMMENTS LMAOOO

→ yourusername he wants me to clarify that it “wasn’t him” (you shouldn’t believe him)

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte and 92,177 others

yourusername guess who’s who??

tagged: edwards.73, markestapa, luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty

view all comments

mackie.samo how come i wasn’t invited 🙁

→ yourusername I’M SORRY THEY KIDNAPPED ME SO I COULDN’T INVITE YOU 💔💔💔

→ mackie.samo it’s okay we can still have our annual cookie baking session

→ rutgermcgroarty COOKIES?? CAN I JOIN

→ mackie.samo NO it’s us two only 😠

→ yourusername mack’s the boss, sorry rut

username47 tag yourself i’m the skeleton mark’s hugging

→ username22 how’d you know it’s mark wtf

→ username90 i’m the yellow glasses ethan’s wearing

jamie.drysdale of course you go and do this as soon as you get back

→ yourusername DON’T JUDGE

adamfantilli luca’s the second right one on the right photo isn’t he..

→ yourusername YES HOW’D YOU KNOW??

→ adamfantilli i could smell the stupidity

→ luca.fantilli WOAH WOAH?? WHAT DID I DO?

→ yourusername FANTILLI FIGHT ⁉️⁉️

→ adamfantilli mom got mad at me because YOU left the house messy before we left to catch our flight

→ luca.fantilli your room was the only messy room in the house stop lying

username65 friend group goals

liked by yourusername

username7 wtf i wanna do this with my friends

username74 FASHION ICONS

trevorzegras come back and watch us play lil drizzy ❤️

→ yourusername first of all never call me lil drizzy again

→ yourusername second of all i’m going to the nucks game when you play BE PATIENT 🙄

next chapter notes ) this was actually so fun to make im excited to make moreeee 🫣 also the official nickname is drizzle i’m calling it rn bc drysdale=drizzle=drizzy=drizz AND I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID BUT I SWEAR YOU WILL COME TO LOVE IT

#umich hockey #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #ethan edwards #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #mark estapa #mackie samoskevich #cole caufield #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #jamie drysdale #dylan duke

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420days · 2 months ago

Text

DADDY MELO | CARMELO

“When’s the baby coming?”

“Not for a couple more months. You’re excited to be a big sister?” Melo asked, peeking at his daughter in the rear view mirror.

“Yes, I can’t wait for sissy to get here! We’re gonna play dress up and paint our nails!”

“You’re gonna be a good big sister Meli?” Christina asked her niece from the passenger seat.

“Of course Auntie! Were you excited when my daddy was born?”

“I don’t remember when he was born. I was just a baby but I was happy to have a baby brother.”

“Do you like having a big sister?” She asked her dad once we was satisfied with her aunts answer.

“Yeah, she was a good big sister to me and Auntie Kim.” He nodded his head as he switched lanes.

“Wow, I want more sisters and brothers?” Meli whispered to herself as she swung her feet.

“Oh yeah, how many?” Christina asked knowing her niece was going to say something off the wall.

“Hmmm.” “Four sisters and two brothers.”

“Wow, that many? Are you sure?” She giggled as she looked over at her brother who was scrunching his eyebrows.

“Yup, I’m gonna ask Santa for Christmas because I’ve been good this year. He always gets me what I want.”

“Good luck with that.” Christina patted her brothers shoulder as they pulled into the parking lot of the the spa Briyanna was at.

Earlier in the day Melo sent her off to have a full day at the spa while he took Meli and out with his sister. He knew she needed a day of relaxation and that’s exactly what he was going to provide for her.

“Look! There’s mommy!” Meli waved from the car as Melo walked around to unbuckle her from her seat. Holding her hand he led her over to where his wife was sitting in the drivers seat of her car, relaxing.

“Hi Mommy! Hi sister!” The little girl smiled before climbing into her mom’s lap and hugging her stomach.

“Hi Mellie. Did you have fun today?”

“Yup, I got ice cream and we brought you a cookie. Daddy has it in the car.” She nodded her head.

“Aw, you thought about me? Thank you Mells.”

“You’re welcome! And you can share with the baby too.” She made sure to look out for her sister.

“Mommy she’s moving again!” Meli smiled feeling her sisters kicks and pushes. She was extremely happy about it while Briyana was feeling nothing but pain.

“Hey baby, you ready?” Melo asked leaning down to kiss his wife and rub her stomach.

“Daddy, the baby is moving around. Look!” She pointed towards her mom’s round stomach that was very present in the fitted green dress she was wearing.

“I know! She’s talking to you.” He said and Briyanna couldn’t help but to smile at the moment thay we’re sharing. The two of them have done nothing but shown love to her love the entire pregnancy. They were almost enjoying her pregnancy more than she was but nothing less she was excited to have their love and support.

“Hi sister, I wish you would hurry up and get here already. I wanna play with you.”

“That’s all you wanna do is play.” Melo tickled her making her fall into a fit of contagious laughter.

——————————————————————————

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @yeaiamme2

#black fem reader #black female writers #black writers #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black oc #black romance #carmelohayesimagine #carmelo hayes #x black reader

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dirtysvthoughts · 9 months ago

Text

strawberry icing on your lips 🍓 - svthub valentine’s day collab

tags/warnings: fluff for the first half, smut for the second half, a bit of pwp, boyfriend! shua, female! reader, baking at home, lots of kissing, fingering, nana tour inspired, shua’s kinda a flirt in this one heh

word count: 1.45k

notes: hey besties! happy love day and i’m beyond excited to share my first svthub collab work! this valentine’s day collab was hosted by the amazing @wongyuseokie thank you supporting us! 🥰 please check out the other author’s works as well! :) this is my next biggest work for shua after private dancer, so i hope you all enjoy! to my lovely valentine @gyuhanniescarat i hope you enjoy reading and i love you have a safe and beautiful valentine’s day & carat day! 🥰

“okay, flour, eggs, milk.. what else are missing?” you ask observing the ingredients in front of you, moving them around to make sure nothing was hidden.

“are the strawberries on the table? oh man, we almost forgot the butter too!” your boyfriend remembers walking to the fridge, reaching for the said items.

you and your boyfriend joshua have been together for three years and the two valentine’s days you’ve spent together have been nothing short of wonderful. for the past two years, you’ve gone out on valentine’s day, but after he came back from a recent europe trip, both of you decided to stay at home this year. you wanted to give him some time to relax and get readjusted to being back at home.

in recounting his europe adventures, he told the story of the time he took a cooking class in rome. he made four different pastas from scratch, all with delicious sauces and wine pairings. hearing joshua tell you of his experience with the excitement and joy made your heart swell, which led you to an idea.

“hey josh, instead of going out this year, why don’t we make our own dinner at home? it sounds like a lot of fun from what you just told me. ooh! we could even bake something too! i’ve been looking at a ton of new recipes lately!”

your boyfriend sweetly laughs at your enthusiasm and kisses your forehead, “let’s do it then! we’ll have a nice candlelit dinner at home this year.”

back in the present, you two have finally gathered all the ingredients to get started with your dessert course - vanilla cookies with a strawberry cream icing. since dinner wouldn’t take as long to make, you decided to get the dessert portion out of the way first.

“hmm let’s see, i’ll work on the flour mixture first, do you wanna work on the icing?” you ask joshua, setting the stainless steel bowls out on the counter. “sure! can you pass me the heavy cream and sugar?”

soon, a comfortable silence surrounds the kitchen, the two of you working side by side, mixing and whisking ingredients together. there is one moment where you accidentally reach for the butter at the same time, gently laughing together as joshua rubs your hand, admiring your soft, delicate skin. you can’t help but blush at the feeling of his hand on top of yours.

more time passes and now, you’re working on molding the shape of the cookies together. joshua is just about done with the icing as well, testing the ribbons of cream as it drips off the whisk and back into the bowl.

“babe,” he turns his head toward you, still focused on flattening what is now your sixth cookie. you hum in response, not looking up just yet. “can you taste the icing for me? i think it’s done, but it might be missing something.”

you finish molding your cookie and quickly grab a spoon from your utensil drawer. you scoop a small bit of icing on the edge of the spoon, nearly melting at the sweet taste and smooth texture of the icing dancing across your mouth.

“josh, this tastes so good!” you exclaim happily, scraping a bigger spoonful this time, giddy as ever as you put the spoon to your mouth again, loving how everything combined to make such a delicious icing. “you did amazing baby! it has the right of amount of sweetness and everything!”

this time, joshua can’t help but blush at your continuous flow of praise, but he also couldn’t help but get hot from watching you taste the icing - your cute lips pressing together and the humming you made the second time you taste tested was not helping the rush of blood that went down to his body.

joshua quickly notices that you have a little speck of icing left on your lips, quickly seizing it as an opportunity to give into temptation and get his hands on you.

“hey baby, you have a little something right-“ he drags out the last word as he holds your jaw with his right thumb gently, his soft, gentle lips meeting yours. the kiss takes you by surprise, but you quickly melt into your boyfriend’s touch as you tilt your head to give him more access inside of you. the two of you establish a rhythm for a few moments until you pull away first, slightly breathless and a pleasant, heavenly daze taking over your body.

“there,” joshua finishes, chuckling as he holds you by your waist, lifting you up so you can sit on the edge of the counter. he swipes his left thumb across your lips and licks his own while you watch, the motion sending arousal down your spine.

he doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck soon after, quietly moaning as his lips nibbled on your body’s sensitive spots. you push your bowl full of cookie dough to the side as joshua’s hands come underneath your tank top, roaming your soft skin.

with ease, he takes off the piece of clothing, lips moving from your neck to the center of your chest. this time joshua becomes bolder, letting his tongue get some action as he licks and sucks on the space between your breasts.

“sh-shua.. shua, o-ohhh,” you moan out louder this time, wanting him to hear how good he’s making you feel. you’re so caught up in the pleasure that he was giving your chest that you don’t even notice his fingertips walking along your thighs, then underneath your skirt - and eventually to your panty line.

before you can even say anything, joshua’s fingers pull the waistband back and let it go, snapping against your waist. you gals and bite your lip in pleasure as your body goes slightly forward and joshua smirks in return. his fingers continue to tease at your panties, the pink lace nearly making him form heart eyes in front of you.

“you’re so pretty for me,” he breathes out, dragging your panties to the side with two fingers. “always, so, so pretty,” he repeats as he slowly inserts another two fingers inside of your core, chuckling at how wet you already are.

“coating my fingers and i haven’t even started with you yet,” he scoffs. “just a needy little girl, aren’t you?”

“only for you,” you whine back with doe eyes. “only you make me this wet.”

“good to know,” he smiles as he starts pushing his fingers in and out at a steady pace, your whines becoming more breathy and high pitched. “mmmm, more, shua - please, more…” you request, eyes starting to glisten like diamonds.

“i’ve thought about this before.. taking you down in the kitchen, especially while i was away taking those cooking classes.. just even imagining you pressing up against me while prepping the ingredients was enough to get me hard,” joshua confesses. “seeing you get so excited over the icing, i couldn’t help my myself baby,” he softly smiles as he holds you by your chin again and kisses you, this time, his fingers making a circular motion inside of you.

whatever noises you release now are deep inside of his mouth, craving for more of him as you entwine your tongue with his once again. you feel the pressure in your body start to build, knowing that you were going to come soon.

joshua then begins a scissoring motion in your pussy, the highest pitched noises you didn’t even know you could make were pouring out of your mouth like a river. you were practically panting joshua’s name out now, begging for him to make you come, promising you will come like a good girl.

after one particularly good thrust, you release all over his fingers, coating them in your deliciousness. you pant into his chest, leaning forward as you take in his scent again, trying to regain your breath, but not wanting to come down from the amazing high.

“i don’t know what tastes better, you or the icing,” joshua teases when you sit up, looking into his eyes.

“you flatter me,” you playfully roll your eyes as you hold his hand, turning around to take a look at the clock. “well, we still have some time left before we actually start cooking the main course.. did you wanna-“

before you can even finish your sentence, he hoists you up again, and laugh, legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he walks you to the bedroom.

“i haven’t even done half the things i wanted to do with you yet this valentine’s day.. c’mon my pretty girl,” joshua swoons, moving your hair from your eyes. “dinner can wait just a bit longer.”

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