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honeyedmiller · 1 month ago

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Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades.

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state.

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested.

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming.

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin.

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work.

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life.

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s.

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to.

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth.

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order.

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?”

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs.

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!”

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register.

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light.

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.”

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it.

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup.

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.”

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup.

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back.

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner.

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot.

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more.

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.”

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.”

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right?

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?”

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again.

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.”

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback.

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.”

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats.

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you.

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously.

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.”

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.”

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy.

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out.

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip.

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner.

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back.

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece.

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens.

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie.

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date.

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair.

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop.

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff.

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.”

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded.

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe.

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features.

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name.

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised.

Joel.

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance.

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees.

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite.

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off.

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him.

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe.

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number.

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all.

Fuck it.

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line.

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day.

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest.

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside.

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No.

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out.

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks.

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…”

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?”

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.”

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated.

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself.

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is.

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy.

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses.

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though.

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other.

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself.

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding.

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.”

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words.

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out.

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.”

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?”

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush.

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss.

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged.

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest.

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?”

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods.

“Somethin’ like that.”

“I’d love to.”

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck.

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart.

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals.

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him.

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know.

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer.

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months.

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other.

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace.

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to.

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3

#shortieswritingchallenge #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #baker!joel miller #joel miller is in his hallmark era #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel fic

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

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married man- l.hamilton

Day 4 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Married? Maybe. But why does everyone else need to know?

pairing: lewis hamilton x indycardriver! fem! reader

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Lewis smiled as you walked into his driver’s room. It had been literal months since you’d last seen each other in person, months since you’d been in his sights in general, and a year since you’d been at a race.

“Don’t you look pretty,” he smiled, wrapping his hands around your waist as you chuckled.

“I could say the same for you,” you smiled, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. “Get ‘em retwisted recently?”

He nodded. “Had to look good for you,” he joked.

You laughed. “You’re too good to me.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and man, did it feel right. You hadn't been with him for months. You missed your husband, and he missed you right back. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass as he sighed into your lips. “Missed you so much,” he mumbled. “Too long to not see you.”

It had been a very long time. You two lived together in Monaco, but you were successful in your own right. You were part of the Indycar racing series. You loved Indycar, and truly had no intention to pivot into F1. You were an American after all, born and raised out in Marfa, Texas. The seasons were never going to match up, but you and Lewis worked damn hard to make your relationship work, and work well. You texted everyday, called every second day for at least an hour, and made it a habit to see each other at least every 4 months. You’d gone longer this time, 6 months, since both of you were too busy with work or holidays or something else. But now, the Indycar season is over, you were the victor, and you planned to come to the rest of the F1 races, under the guise of being Carmen’s friend, not Lewis’s wife. No one really knew you two even knew each other, let alone got married 2 years ago.

“I missed you too,” you smiled as he pressed kisses down your neck. “We can’t let it go this long again.”

“I promise it won’t,” he sighed. “Missed having you here. It’s been a tough fucking season.”

“I know baby,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he shrugged. “Ferrari better be the right move next year.”

“It will be. You’ll win your 8th and then you can come be my WAG in Indycar,” you smiled, making him laugh.

“Always with the solutions,” he chuckled. “Who says I’m settling with 8?”

“Me. You’re getting old, baby. If you want little Hamiltons’ running around, then you’d better be at home to take care of them,” you smiled, though stern in your tone.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled. “Man, I love you.”

“I love you too, now, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“See you at the finish line my love,” he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before you left.

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He’d done it again, another win, somehow. Through the fucking Austin heat, he’d pulled through with that piece of shit strategy from Mercedes. You cheered in the paddock, all cameras on you, but you didn’t care. He’d won yet another GP and you were hardly going to gently clap.

You ran up to the Parc Fermé with Carmen, both ecstatic at the result (George got P2). You watched in awe as he left the car, celebrating with the team. You’d missed his latest victory in Silverstone and you were delighted to not have missed this one. He ran over to the team, searching only for you.

“Where’s Y/n?!” he shouted over the cheering. You grabbed at his arm and smiled when he finally made eye contact with you. Suddenly he helmet was pulled off, his lips were on yours, you were over the barricade and in his arms.

“Lewis!” you scolded with a smile, pulling away. “What are you doing?”

“Celebrating with my beautiful wife,” he smirked.

It was difficult to stay mad at him when he was looking at you like you hung the stars just for him.

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Transcription of Lewis Hamilton’s GQ Sports interview:

GQ: So, Lewis, another win in Austin this time, how did it feel?

Lewis: It was amazing, I mean there was just so much riding on the moment, and it gave us the extra points to get up to Ferrari. There’s such a great atmosphere at places like Austin, especially since it’s a Sprint race and a Feature race, it means a lot to get to win both.

GQ: And now we’d like to talk about the obvious elephant in the room

Lewis: And what’s that? (chuckling)

GQ: Your secret relationship with Indycar winner Y/n Y/l/n?

Lewis: It’s Y/n Hamilton, actually, and yes, what about it?

GQ: You’re married?

Lewis: Past 2 years, but we’ve been dating for 5. Best 5 years of my life.

GQ: How did you keep this from the press?

Lewis: Well, we’ve always been the kind of people who do our own thing, and we never really felt the need to be super open about our relationship because of that. We’re both introverts and we both enjoy what little privacy we can have in our mad world, and I think that’s another reason we didn’t tell anyone. We’re also not stupid. Sometimes relationships don’t work out, it’s happened to everyone, and we didn’t want to tell anyone until we were serious about each other, and by then, we were engaged and while we became less careful with hiding our relationship, we’re naturally private people, so it just… never slipped out I guess (shrugging).

GQ: And what has your reaction been like to the reception of your relationship?

Lewis: (chuckling) It’s funny to see how the internet sees us now, y’know, it’s pretty amusing to see the edits and the theories and the people swearing they’ve known from the start. Honestly I’m really enjoying it. So is she.

GQ: How did you two meet?

Lewis: I think it was actually Austin. Whenever we’re in America we usually get roped into meeting the Indycar side of our teams, if we have one, and she was just… there when I went to the track. It was so ridiculous, I was asking everyone who she was, and like, everything about her, it was bordering on embarrassing.

GQ: What drew you to her?

Lewis: She’s just one of those people you meet once and know you can’t live without. She was so kind, and she was helping another team with their car because she’s an engineer, and she was literally being told off by her boss right then and there, and all she said back was, ‘If they have no car, they have no race. They’re not even close to us in the championship, all I’m doing is helping them put the thing back together. Have a bit of empathy’. I knew I was a goner. I just wanted to know everything about her.

GQ: She’s a woman of the people?

Lewis: She’s always helping people. We’re philanthropists when we’re not racing and she teaches free classes on engineering in the deep south to get kids out of poverty. They don’t even know who she is, she’s just their teacher, same as anyone else. It’s pretty incredible stuff.

GQ: Wow, that sounds amazing. She sounds like a very incredible woman.

Lewis: She is.

GQ: Finally, why did you keep this from everyone?

Lewis: Why shouldn’t we? When you’re in the public eye, everyone knows everything about you, and you’re just supposed to deal with that. We both just wanted something for ourselves rather than to broadcast absolutely everything. I’m deeply uninterested in giving the media more things to write about, and so is she. The only media about us we should be hearing is our race results, not who we’re dating and I think we’ve forgotten that in the past few years. It’s all become quite the popularity contest, and I’m getting tired of playing it.

GQ: Thank you for your time.

Lewis: You too.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen

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angelbarelywrites · 8 months ago

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♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

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for-a-longlongtime · 3 months ago

Text

Guilty Pleasure (1/7) - dbf!Joel x reader

You're home from college for the summer, staying with your parents in Austin, TX. So is your dad's best friend, Joel Miller. Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 2.3K A/N: If you know/follow me, you're probably just as shocked as I am to see a dbf!Joel fic by my hand. Totally get it if it's not your thing, please feel free to move on and skip this one. However - if you've read and enjoyed other fics by me, you may wanna give it a try! Submitting this also to @hellishjoel who is organizing the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (go check out all the other fics on her page!) 💜

series masterlist | main masterlist next chapter >

You don’t hate him. Not exactly.

But he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m just so damn sick of him, you know? He thinks he’s so important and hot shit. People are fawning about him all the damn time, but he’s just my dad and an asshole,” you sigh to your best friend on the other end of the Facetime call. You’re in an Uber headed to your parents’ house, desperate for time away from school and your cheating ex. Your mom had been excited that you would be spending the summer break with them in Austin, and assured you that your father would be too. As IF.

“I thought that maybe I could just relax, but no. Everything is about my dad again. He started this big... I don’t even know what. Project. Venture. Mission. Did you see it on tv? He’s on the news all the damn time.” Just the thought alone already makes you cringe, and you’re glad to see your friend nod at you, requiring no further explanation - she knows all about your father. “So I figured he won’t be in my way when I’m home. But now his friend Joel is staying at the house, too. The entire fucking summer. Who even does that?”

Your father and Joel had been friends for a long time, even before you were born, but you struggled to remember anything about him. He was a contractor, running his own company for quite a while now, and he had a brother named Tommy. “They’re working on renovating his house, so he needed a place to stay. It’s not like he’ll be in your way, sweetheart. Most of the time he’s out working for clients,” your mom had assured you, reminding you there were more than just a few spare bedrooms at the house. But to you, it didn’t matter; he would be in the way. You just knew it. Ruining your summer. The last thing you needed was a constant reminder of your dad shaped as Joel, hanging around the house.

“No, I don’t know much about him - it’s been years since I saw him.” You wince as you see your parents’ house down the street, and for a moment you’re tempted to ask the Uber driver to circle around the block one more time. “Look, I’m here - I have to go. Wish me luck, call me later,” you plead with your friend as the car pulls up to the oversized driveway. It takes a moment to get all your suitcases out of the car, since the driver merely watches you with an impatient frown on his face, but then you’re finally stumbling towards the front door.

It’s good to be in Austin again, but you haven’t missed the Texas heat - and humidity - for one bit. All you want right now is a pizza and a very, very strong drink to forget about the shitty trip you just had. But it seems not even that is in the cards for you right now, as nobody bothers to come to the door after you’ve loudly rang the doorbell. Not even on the third try. Just when you’re about to start screaming in frustration, you finally hear footsteps rushing down the hallway.

“Mom, why did you not–,” you start when the door swings open, but the words immediately stick in your throat as you stare at the man in front of you. Tall, strong, and handsome, looking much better than he had any right to while being dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt - courtesy of those arms in particular, and a mouth that immediately gave you ideas about where he should put it. Jesus Christ.

“Joel…?”, you finally manage when your brain seems to catch up with the low throb you’re feeling in your pussy. You do not remember your dad’s best friend looking this hot, or smelling so good - the sandalwood in his cologne reminds you of more than just a couple of debauched nights on campus that you’d had in the past year. But this was clearly not one of the frat boys that surrounded you during your classes or evenings out. This was a whole ass DILF, somewhere in his early forties like your parents, and it takes you effort to not whimper as you take him in.

Your core aches just from looking at him, a painful reminder of how many weeks it has been since you’d last had an orgasm that didn’t come from your own hand or a toy. Finding out that your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had been running around with several other girls had been a harsh way to end the semester, but at least it made you decide to spend the summer here in Texas. And that decision suddenly seems like a very, very good idea in retrospect.

It’s only when Joel says your name, an amused smirk playing over his face, that you realize you’ve definitely been staring at him. “Hey, kiddo. Been a while. D’you need a hand with that?��, he asks, and as you hear his drawl, you’re pretty damn sure that you’ve never heard that man sound anything like this. Goddamn. Hot in every way, it seems, it seems - you may have never before appreciated a Texas accent as much as you like his.

He doesn’t wait for your response, but simply takes over two of your suitcases and a duffle bag like they weigh nothing. “Nicole- I mean, your mom asked me to help you get you settled, she’s gonna be back in a few hours,” he says, keeping the front door open with one strong shoulder so you can get into the house.

“Thanks, that’s so nice of you,” you manage to say as you follow him through the house, to your bedroom on the second floor. Walking behind him is the perfect excuse to take in his physique, and you freely let your eyes roam over his strong shoulders and broad back, and you can tell you’re getting wet just by looking at him. God, he’s fit. Especially for a guy who is probably twenty years older than you are. Those arms… Was he single? And - did that even matter, really?

You realize that you must’ve zoned out and missed something he’s said to you, because he gives you a questioning look when you’re both standing in your childhood bedroom. The decoration, colors and posters are still familiar to you, but in a detached way, like you’re looking at them in a photo album of someone you used to be, in sharp contrast to who you are now and the man in front of you.

“I said that I hope I won’t be in your way this summer. Your parents are happy you’re staying here with them,” he says, then surprises you by giving you a friendly, brief hug. “It’s good to see you again, kid.” You gladly accept the hug, and you can’t help but bury your face against his shoulder for just a moment, inhaling his cologne and the underlying subtle tone of his natural scent. That’s when you internally make up your mind, right there on the spot.

You want him.

Now, and for the rest of the summer.

And if that pissed off your father? All the better.

Once you’re sure he’s left the hallway outside of your room, you grab your phone and immediately google his name, checking through his online profiles. No mention of any wife or girlfriend. Perfect. When you find his Instagram, your jaw drops at the photos you see of Joel clearly working hard and dripping sweat. Almost pornographic, really.

With a few taps you send the pictures to your best friend, quickly adding the caption ‘sooo i decided I’m gonna be his inappropriately young gf for the summer’. Her response pings almost instantly, as you expected, a barrage of emojis and ‘OMG GIRL YESSSS GET THAT DILF’. You can’t help but chuckle as you send a quick message back to her, ‘more later xxx’, then turn off the sound on your phone.

For a moment you consider unpacking all of your luggage, which would definitely be the more practical thing to do. On the other hand, your parents are not gonna be home in the next few hours, and since Joel’s room didn’t seem too close to yours to overhear anything…

You sigh in relief when you find the silky bag in your luggage that stores your sex toys, and pull out your favorite clit sucker without a moment of hesitation. Quick and dirty, that’s what you need right now, you decide as you get onto the bed. After a moment of hesitation, you re-open Instagram and scroll back to Joel’s page, while you reach for your AirPods in the hidden pocket of your dress.

His profile is clearly promotional for his company - Miller & Co -, and you vaguely recognize his brother Tommy in some shots, but fortunately the focus is mostly on him. When you click on Reels and see several videos of him at work, your heart starts racing, your mouth going dry while you feel the exact opposite happening in your panties. Fuck, he is so hot. If you thought the view you had while walking behind him was good, it sure is nothing compared to seeing him work on construction projects that show him flexing those muscles, jeans clinging desperately onto his thighs the way you would like your hands to do.

You’re stroking yourself already after the second video, and by the time you’re treated to the sight and sound of him lifting lumber with a grunt, you’ve got two fingers deep inside of your pussy. You whimper as you imagine he’s in your room watching you with those dark eyes. Your breathing grows heavy as you picture him getting on the bed, giving you that sexy smirk as he puts his head between your thighs so he can lick at your wetness. His bottom lip had tempted you from the start, and you just know it would feel so good as he’d circle your clit with his tongue.

You can barely suppress a moan as your hips buck up hard, and you press the toy closer against yourself, thrusting your slick fingers faster as you chase the release that’s close - so so very close already. What if he buried that stubble against your thighs, urging your fingers out of yourself so he could lick them clean, his lips closing around your digits as he’d suck on you. Brown eyes filled with desire, reflecting how much you want him too, and then the push of his tongue inside your cunt as he starts to eat you out.

You whisper his name quietly as your body starts to shake, hearing him moan contently as he works you up some more, then comes up for air, slipping two - no, three of his thick fingers roughly inside of you, just as demanding as his mouth is. “Good girl. Now come f’me.”

You gasp as the orgasm ripples through you, much faster than you expected, and you bury your face into your pillow so you won’t cry his name out loud. Before the waves of your orgasm have subsided, you flip yourself to your stomach as you keep the buzzing toy in place, grinding down harder on your fingers as you shudder from the overstimulation. Still you keep going, because it’s what Joel would do - you know it’s what he would want, tease you and push you to make you come again and again.

He’d make you cry his name out loudly, until you’re writhing against him like a feral cat in heat, desperate as you’re begging him for his cock so he can fuck you into the mattress, claiming you and demanding to own every part of you. His sweaty heavy body covering yours, lips and teeth drawing more gasps from you, until your head becomes completely devoid of any thoughts, only able to focus on how good he’s making you feel - how his thickness is throbbing inside of you, going deeper than anyone has been before, and you know that he’s about to ruin you for any other men, because it’s never going to be better than it is with him.

As your body convulses and you’re about to come again, you suddenly hear your name being called loudly from downstairs - not by Joel, but the shriller sound of your mom’s voice as she’s looking for you. It takes everything you have to restrain yourself from yelling angrily at the interruption, your mind and body at war with each other for a second, and you bite your lip hard as you mentally grab onto the fantasy of Joel, unwilling to let go of it - of him.

“Coming!,” you snap loudly, hoping that she won’t be able to hear the panting in your voice, or the buzzing toy in your hand. “Be right there!”

‘Good fucking girl. Such a dirty little slut for me,’ imaginary-Joel whispers at you, pounding into you, and you know he’s about to come too. “Give it to me again. Wanna feel you soak my cock,” the whisper changing into a low hiss that sends shivers down your spine. You bury your face even further into the pillow as you whine his name, begging him for more, to pump his seed into you and fill you up. He laughs, the sound hoarse and taunting, and then his hand grabs a hold of your hair and tugs your head back up. “No hiding. You scream my name when I make you come, you hear me?”, he grunts at you - and you bite your lip as you come hard again, soaking your fingers for a second time as the orgasm rocks you so much harder than the first one did.

Fuck. FUCK. You need him, every part of him, so goddamn bad.

next: part 2 >

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates for updates when new chapters drop!

A/N II: Thank you @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @lotusbxtch @sin-djarin @mountainsandmayhem

@qveerthe0ry @perotovar for encouraging me to write a wild idea that suddenly came to mind. This came together shockingly fast with ideas and feedback from all of them, so thank you babes for supporting and enabling me! Fic title is obviously snagged from Chappell Roan's 'Guilty Pleasure'!

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #hotdilfsummerchallenge #joel miller smut #dbf!joel #tlou au

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leviscolwill · 11 months ago

Text

lovelorn and nobody knows ★

pairing: jude bellingham x mclaren driver!reader [face claim: amna al qubaisi]

in which: jude wants to be the most supportive boyfriend, even if it means ruining your soft launch

note: for plot reasons, let's pretend mp motorsports is mclaren. hope my f1 reader! enthusiasts like this one 🩷

now playing slut! by taylor swift...

judebellingham

liked by madders, yn.isracing and 1,369,097 others

judebellingham yeehaw 🤠

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yn.isracing whore. [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

yn.isracing save a horse ride a uhhhh [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

camavinga texas boy with a british accent, i've truly seen it all 💀

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, olliebearman and 476,916 others

yn.isracing in my cowgirl era

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user91 NOOOO MY GIRLFRIEND HAS A BOYFRIEND IT'S SO OVER 😭😭

your.bsf whatever he's doing i can do better i swear

yn.isracing i can name a couple things idk

your.bsf i don't think i wanna know...

yn.isracing

liked by mclaren, louisvuitton and 1,182,764 others

yn.isracing city of love <3

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your.bsf that should be me 💔💔💔

judebellingham 😝😝😝 [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham croissant bag

yn.isracing yummy!

judebellingham j'aime les pieds 😍 [i like feet]

judebellingham my french professors told me it means pretty girl in french btw 🤭

camavinga 🤣🤣🤣

aurelientchm 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

jobebellingham who are u holding 🤨

yn.isracing some stray dog i found

jobebellingham so nice of you 🥰

judebellingham FUCK OFF ??? [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham STOP SILENCING ME [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham

liked by centralcee, jobebellingham and 1,620,261 others

judebellingham some wannabe z lister (not me but you know)

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📌 judebellingham she's responsible for this caption btw

user22 jude soft launching his gf + her turning him into a swiftie was NOT on my 2023 bingo

user16 thank u for the roses bae xx

user77 me when i'm deluded

yn.isracing

liked by marcusarmstrong, f1 and 1,610,618 others

yn.isracing i'll be home for quismois 🎅

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your.bsf finally i get my girl back damn

yn.isracing i never left u 🤸🏻‍♀️

your.bsf you did, for a m*n 😁

user44 i just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door 😫😫

jude5updates

liked by 99,729 users

jude5updates jude was seen at winter wonderland with friends yesterday during christmas break

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user62 he was so sweet !! and the girl he was with was super pretty 👩🏻‍🦯

user11 that was me

user90 the dots are connecting...

user07 girl bffr, they could be just friends 🙄

user19 that's a lot of coincidences miss yn.isracing 🤨🤨

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, landonorris and 2,925,727 others

yn.isracing bitch don't tell me that you model if you ain't been in harper's bazaar or sum like that

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landonorris 😍😍

judebellingham back off shorty [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

judebellingham whoa

judebellingham drive me around pls

judebellingham doggy, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, upside down, inside out, one leg up, two legs up, in public, on a spaceship, in the garden, on the grass, in a car, in a box, on a table, against a wall [this comment has been deleted by yn.isracing]

yn.isracing bitch wtf

judebellingham

why do u keep deleting my comments :(

i just wanna love on my girl 😓

yn.isracing

because u lost your whole mind

you truly have no shame 💀

judebellingham

but you keep deleting my funny comments

ppl are gonna think i have no game

yn.isracing

well...

they wouldn't be wrong !

judebellingham

you know damn well...

how did i bag u then ?? uh !!?!;!?#;#(

yn.isracing

charity work from my end xx

judebellingham

i hate you

yn.isracing

no you don't

judebellingham

no i don't

i feel like i'm being reasonable tbh

i could bark in your comments

do you want me to bark in your comments ?

yn.isracing

NO ?????

maybe i do idk

judebellingham

furry 😧

but seriously tho

i don't like being a secret

i just wanna show off my gf idk

yn.isracing

we agreed to keep it on the low for now

judebellingham

but i'm starting to regret it

it's so hard not to insult your teammate ❤️

yn.isracing

HE'S JUST BEING NICE

judebellingham

nooo he can fuck off

only i get to be nice to you

others have to bully you

i want to renegotiate our contract

yn.isracing

girl what contract are u talking abt

judebellingham

we don't have to post everything abt us

i just wanna show my appreciation properly

but still stay private

everyone knows anyways

pleaseeee 🥺🥺🥺

yn.isracing

wtf delete

the emojis i'm 🤢

i guess... maybe...

judebellingham

?????

yn.isracing

we can compromise...

judebellingham

liked by yn.isracing, benchilwell and 2,619,015 others

judebellingham passenger princess (me)

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📌 judebellingham she forced me to use this caption

jobebellingham stop lying now

yn.isracing oh i love you so very much

yn.isracing MY PERFECT BOYFRIEND WHO DOESN'T NEED A DRIVER'S LICENSE

yungfilly pretty girlfriend + personal driver is CRAZY

yn.isracing he's not paying me for the extra hours 😪

judebellingham i'm paying you in kisses, jokes and other tomfooleries 🙄

yn.isracing

liked by judebellingham, mclaren and 2,081,620 others

yn.isracing that's a wrap for my rookie year in f1 + first win woooo. thank you of the support, see you next year 🤪

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mclaren here's to many more years and wins together ;)

judebellingham so so so so proud of you

judebellingham you're so good at everything it's so sexy of you whoa

jobebellingham have some shame

gioreyna down bad

judebellingham noooo she stole my phone wtf hahaha i never commented that lol

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smau #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football imagine #football x reader #footballer imagine #football smau

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coyote-with-a-keyboard · 5 months ago

Text

Past, present, future

a/n: well, writing creativity hits me at the worst times. Including when I have a concussion! This one is for my silly moot @fortheb0ys

Minors DNI

Phillip was stressed. If stressed was even the right word. He was tired, and bored, and yet constantly busy busy busy. It was starting to make his head swirl so damn much that he decided to toss off his work and jobs to his poor second in command and go back to his little home town in the middle of nowhere Texas

He wasn’t there to see family, hell no. He had put his parents in a retirement home in Dallas years and years ago. He was going just to fish where he used to fish and enjoy how little that town changes- as if time was slowed there. He pulled up to his hotel happy as a clam and practically running to the local bar, enjoying as many drinks as he wanted to calm down, until he saw you walk in. Oh fuck

he hadn’t seen you since high school, since he left the whole backwater town to try his luck in the military, and told you by note. By note! He really did regret that now, how he had probably shattered you. Sure you two never ‘dated’, his parents would have slaughtered him for something like dating a man- but you two sure did everything a couple could. Nights spent together hidden away in a camping tent, secret kisses and hickeys littering him in the morning… he had really felt like shit having the nerve to show up here now, feeling wheezy and sick to his stomach.

he sat nervously next to you at the bar, letting you look him up and down as he drank a shot of whiskey, then two, then three. And a conversation started between you, about how your lives had ended up and how you’d stayed in the little country town and definitely flourished- calloused hands and well built figure filling in where you once were younger and softer, and the more he drank the more comfortable he felt around you, chuckling at your jokes and leaning into you as if he was head over heals again.

Four shots, five shots, six,

he was feeling real sick now, he wasn’t a lightweight by any means. But he had definitely lost track and gone above any standard he usually had. He felt Ick all over, barely wanting to walk out the door let alone leave you and go to his hotel- not that he could walk that far in the state he was in. He needed you in more ways than one, so he begged you pathetically to carry you home. Your grip and warmth grounded him enough that he got a grip while you carried him, softly nuzzling into your chest and hoping you’d stay just a little longer and indulge him just a bit more.

he didn’t deserve you, he knew that. You were his a long time ago and he had royally fucked up- but he missed everything about you, every little detail was making his mind spin with old memories he had thought he had forgotten. He let you carry him into your house without a single protest- too in bliss and too drunk to bother you with the idea of carrying him back to his shitty hotel, especially when your house smelt of your cologne and safety.

he almost melted in your bed; whining and pulling you next to him before utterly dozing off, and clinging to you as if you would disappear if he let go

he woke up with an utterly pounding headache and a hangover worse then death himself- sitting up with a groan before remembering where he was, and that he was in your jacket from the bar… he has definitely made a fool of himself in front of you. But he supposed it was better then being alone in your apartment- he laid practically on top of you, feeling your even breathing as you slept. He had missed the feeling of being oh so close to you, but he still wanted to be closer- okay sure, it might be a bit wrong but he couldn’t help himself but kiss down your neck softly, his hands wondering and his body slipping down a bit, in no hurry to wake you up- just wanting to feel you.

he mouthed at your boxers a bit, shaking you awake enough to get a groan out of you and a tired nod as you tossed your head back on the pillow tiredly, still half asleep as he tugged your boxers down your legs and wrapped his pretty lips around your cock-head, taking you inch by inch slowly and choking a bit until he had every inch in his mouth, little gasps coming out of his stretched lips as he breathed you in, tears and spit dribbling down his face. He was focused on solely you, only little grinds of his hips against your leg giving himself physical pleasure

he hummed softly at the feeling of your hand grasping in his hair, before getting thrown off rhythm at a rough tug from you, pulling him off- a small drop of pre-cum and spit connecting his lips and your soaked member before you forced him back all the way down. You had gotten a lot rougher, and it felt so so good to be gasping as those big blue eyes of his poured with tears- looking like a mess. But he was your mess again. Yours.

he choked and gagged every so often, but worked you up until you were grasping his shoulders tight enough to bruise, painting his throat white as he swallowed every drop down, cumming in his own pants untouched before he pulled himself away and rolled beside you

“missed you, sugar.” Was all he could mutter as he caught his breath

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abbyshands · 4 months ago

Text

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ YOU GOT ME, DARLING 𓄀 part 1

“i- i meant, like, heat-wise. it’s in the, um, 80’s right now,” abby replies awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck like it’ll settle the nerves having a field day in her veins. “but you are pretty hot,” she mumbles under her breath.

𓄀 pairing: cowgirl!reader x city girl!abby anderson

𓄀 includes: masc!reader, tall!reader, reader has tattoos and piercings and is implied to be muscular, established friendships (abby x ellie, dina, and manny), reader has an established backstory, modern setting, flirting, reader has an accent so read as such!

𓄀 summary: you decide to represent your business, cowboy classics, at seattle’s annual farmer’s market, unaware that the universe would send an angel with blonde hair and blue eyes to your feet.

𓄀 notes: so i had a lil’ idea and i ran with it so i present this lil’ series i’m gonna start <3 i have lots of ideas for it so be prepared for it to be a lil’ all over the place if i’m being honest. also, eventual smut of course! please comment or let me know if you want to be tagged. alright now, enjoy! ♡

𓄀 wc: 3k

every year, seattle hosts a farmer’s market that lasts a week, the hottest week of the summer. for the last, dear god, however many years you had lived here, you had never come to it, much less represented your business at it. but this year, you figured, why not? all your other friends were pooling into the heart of the city to attend the yearly market, so why couldn’t you?

you weren’t the biggest fan of seattle when you first arrived here. it was a stark contrast from where you grew up, a little prairie in rural texas. you remember shuddering each time you passed by a building the first week you lived here, wondering, where the hell are the fields?

seattle was just so different. rainy, cold, urbanized down to the last letter. you had moved here from texas when you were only 18 by your parents’ wishes for you to go to a college, get a degree, and get a damn job. your parents had been hard on you growing up for reasons unbeknownst to you, not like it mattered. not then, and not now.

after studying in college for two years and narrowly managing to get an associate’s degree in business, you decided to not pursue your bachelor’s, instead getting right to work. you earned yourself a job as a construction worker, the closest you had gotten to home since moving to seattle two years prior. the hot days when the sun came out in the summer, the rigorous work outside, the dirt on your skin by evening to show for a job well done. it was all you could have asked for and more.

when you managed to get yourself afloat, considerably well off, you ventured right outside urban seattle and scored yourself a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, far up a mile long dirt road. it was perfect, reminiscent of that old texas charm you had missed so dearly since leaving it. and then, when you finally settled down, you purchased a place bordering the urban and rural areas of seattle to make your own, where you used your associate’s degree and your casual texan charm to open a business.

cowboy classics read the sign hanging off your stand as the hot summer sun beat down on your back, shining down on your skin, which glistened with sweat as you set up your stand. thank god your stall had a roof, or else you’d be a goner for the next few hours that you’d be at the farmer’s market.

the market was crowded that morning, and more people were drawn to you and your stand than you were ready for. you couldn’t say you weren’t flattered, especially when you made a solid hundred dollars in the first hour and pretty girls were all but falling at your feet to buy your merchandise.

cowboy classics consisted of several products right off your farm. fruits like apples, berries, and melons, veggies like corn and peppers, and herbs of all kinds, such as cilantro, parsley, and rosemary, which you had grown yourself. dairy products, like fresh milk in classic milk jugs, regular and strawberry, cream cheese, and smooth butter. jams and jellies that the folks back home and your friends here in seattle could die for. and last but not least, handmade soaps and candles.

one would wonder why your shop was called cowboy classics when you were clearly a girl, if it weren’t for your heavily masculine energy. it seemed to radiate off of you, like the very sunrays shining down on your skin. from your voice, deep and low, thick with a rural texan accent, to your attire, a flannel and jeans, a belt with a big buckle and boots, and you couldn’t miss the cowboy hat, to even your scent, musky cologne mixed with the smells of your farm and all the products you produced from it.

now, city girl abby anderson couldn’t be further from a cowgirl. having grown up in the heart of seattle, washington, abigail “abby” anderson works as a personal trainer at a gym a few blocks away from her house. as tall, big, and muscular as she is, she couldn’t be more awkward. she wasn’t clueless, she just preferred her bed to being so human as to socialize. she was a little shy, but complex in nature, her sweet blue eyes easy to get lost in, her blonde hair shaping her freckled face to flawlessness.

the yearly market was always fun for abby. her dad would always take a few days off his shifts at the hospital just to bring abby to the market, unable to resist the way her eyes lit up when they settled on all the wonders the place had to offer, at least for a little girl. now that she was older, she had grown to adore it even more. it was all so raw, so natural, and the products at the market were inexpensive and could actually be of use to her.

abby was walking through the market with a few friends beside her. her best friend, ellie, her girlfriend, dina, and one of abby’s closest friends, manny. manny liked the market as much as abby did, though it was less for what you could buy and more for what you could take home with you. in other words, the pretty girls. ellie previously just liked to accompany abby to the market, but since having met dina, she came more for dina’s love of it.

“shit, it’s hot,” abby said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead for the third time in the last ten minutes. her pale forehead glistened with sweat, little blonde baby hairs plastered to it.

ellie chuckled, nodding. “this heat wave’s no fucking joke. we’re going to be liquid by the time we get out of here.”

“ooh, look at that! those shirts are so cute!” dina suddenly exclaimed, causing the group’s attention to snap to a stand of hand knitted shirts and randomized accessories, like scarves, purses, and gloves. before ellie could even respond, dina was dragging her by the hand to the stand.

abby chuckled, having grown quite used to dina’s impulsive nature. when she turned to her side to look to manny, she realized that he had also wandered off, easily finding him chatting up a pretty girl at a different stall. abby rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the amusement off her face. those were her friends for you. looks like she was on her own.

if she was being honest, she preferred to walk through the market alone, at least when she was actually looking through the vendors for good finds. it was reminiscent of her childhood, this little piece of seattle that gave the city girl a taste of what it was like on the other side of urban, even if it only lasted a week.

abby was walking through the market, having yet to find a stand that piqued her interest, when one poked out at her. curiously, she squinted to get a better look at it, her feet approaching it of their own accord. the owner’s back was turned, but abby could tell that it was a woman, one that was a sight for sore eyes, at that. but what interested her, too, was the variety of products at the stand, produce and dairy products, jams and jellies, paired with what looked like soaps and candles.

it was only when she turned around that abby’s attention was hers, and hers only.

who the hell is that?

the closer abby got to your stand, the more intrigued by you she was. you had a face that could bring anybody to their knees, clad in a flannel and dark blue jeans, a brown belt with a huge buckle, and jesus christ, a black cowboy hat to top it off. it was like she had looked one way and been in seattle, washington, than turned and teleported into rural texas. she couldn’t help the way her eyes raked over your body, taking you in in all your glory, tattooed arms and hands with a prominent tattoo on your neck and collarbone, several silver piercings in your ears.

alright, she’d bite.

and she hoped you would, too.

your interest was piqued when you saw her walking up to your stand. the girls who had approached you thus far were pretty, but this girl was a downright stunner. blonde hair tied back in a braid that fell over her right shoulder, exposed by her black tank top, paired with her brown cargo shorts. she had these pretty blue eyes, too, pretty blue eyes that sparkled like sweet diamonds in the burning seattle sun, accompanying the prominent freckles on her nose and cheeks.

she was muscular like you, only it peaked out in her arms, hands, and thighs, whereas your muscle presented itself in your broad shoulders and chest. you can’t wipe the grin off your face as she approaches your stand, and you set down the soaps you’d just picked up from a crate behind you on the stand, seeing as you had just sold out for the second time since arriving at the market.

“hey there,” you smile at her, and shit, even your voice is alluring, and it matches your face just right. dark, deep and low and thick with rasp, a texan accent to it that was impossible to miss. it was embarrassing for the blonde, just how fast her face heated up, that is, and she gave you a shy smile in response, along with a little awkward wave. “see somethin’ ya’like, baby?”

yes, you.

abby cleared her throat, nodding, trying so hard to ignore the way her stomach flips at the way that last word slipped off your lips. “uh, yeah. your stand is really cool,” abby said, a rosy blush covering her cheeks and nose as she inspected the soaps you had just set down on the counter. before you can respond to her compliment, she asks, “did you make these yourself?”

you nod to confirm, looking down at the soaps she was referring to. “sure did. handmade all day. the folks here quite like ‘em. sold out twice,” you said, leaning over the counter, eyes settled on the blonde girl before you. abby’s battling to ignore how nervous she feels at being in the presence of such a handsome woman, heavily aware of how much taller than her you are.

and she never meets girls who are taller than her.

abby takes one of the soaps into her hands. pine, her scent of choice in cologne, hair products, air freshener, candles, whatever it may be. she would marry the damn scent if she could. reading the label, she realized the scent of the little handmade bar of soap was a mix of pine and vanilla, and she lifted it to her nose to give it a smell, earning the blonde’s instant approval. “well, i can see why. this smells great,” abby commented.

“i’m glad’ya like it,” you chuckle as your tongue darts out to lick your lips, your eyes raking over the girl for the millionth time since she had walked up to your stand. you can’t help but be curious about her. unlike most of the girls you had met at the market thus far, she wasn’t throwing herself at your feet.

though you wouldn’t mind if she did.

“i’m abigail, by the way. abby,” abby said with that awkward grin of hers, putting her hand out for you to shake. abigail. jesus christ, she never introduced herself like that. you were making the poor girl so nervous she couldn't even think right. you take her hand into yours, kissing the back of it before telling her your own name, tipping your hat. shit, even your name made her heart skip a beat.

was there a damn thing about you that abby anderson wasn’t attracted to?

“it’s nice to meet you,” abby smiled, unable to tear her eyes away from you and all the products your stand had to offer. she walked over to a little shelf beside it, stocked with candles of all scents. “did you make these, too?”

“that i did, darlin’. use the same scents as i do the soaps, so if’ya like that pine one, it’s there,” you say. abby nods. you didn’t have to tell her twice. somehow, it only smells better to her when the scent of pine and vanilla fills her nose in the form of a candle. and, of course, because you made it. she sets the candle and soap onto your stand, timid as she slides them over to you, a small mumble of, “just these,” leaving her lips.

you take the candle into your hands, grabbing a piece of brown wrapping paper from the stack of it you had behind the stand. you put it down, setting the candle in the middle of the sheet of paper before wrapping it up and putting it into a little bag alongside the soap. abby would be drooling if her lips were parted, watching the way your muscles flex at even the smallest movements as you wrap the candle up for her.

you give abby a price, to which she takes out her wallet and hands you the bills, graciously telling you to keep the change. you smile at her, more than thankful for her kindness, but not needing the extra money. “that’s alright, baby. i’ll get’ya your change, though i appreciate the gesture,” you return, reaching behind you to fetch a few ones and coins. but not before abby cuts you off.

“n- no, really, i insist. you deserve it,” abby says a little too quickly. an angel this one was, that was for damn sure.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “well, aren’t you sweet. insist, huh?”

abby nods firmly, though the blush on her cheeks betrays the show of confidence. “yes, i insist. you’re going to be here all day, you’re selling awesome products, and you’re hot. it’s the least i could do,” she says, like the fact was common knowledge. you lean in just to tease her, raising an eyebrow.

“ya’think i’m hot, darlin’?”

abby’s eyes widen at how close you get to her face, and how suddenly aware she is of her own existence. she almost can’t hear you over the sound of her heart rattling in her ears, pumping in her chest as the musky scent of your cologne fills her nose. she tries and fails to not let her eyes wander down to your lips and fuck, her head was spinning, spiraling with the handsome cowgirl she could die happy now that she’d met.

you sure as hell don’t miss it.

“well, thank’ya kindly, darlin’. you’re mighty fine yourself,” you smirk, and abby’s head was spinning. how did people like you even exist in real life? you were right of of a western movie, the way you looked, the way you sounded, even your energy alone was enough to throw a city girl like abby for a loop. “but you’re damn right. fuck, sweatin’ like a damn sinner in church in this heat,” you say, taking a second to stretch as you do.

abby can’t help the way her cheeks burn at the simple act of you cussing. and she’d tear her eyes from you right now, if it weren’t for the way your flannel rises when you stretch, revealing the lower part of your torso. you make direct eye contact with her and shoot one of your signature smirks her way before speaking. “well, if you’re gonna be such a sweetheart, s’only fair i do a little somethin’ in return,” you say. you reach behind you to the little cooler that’s filled with all the dairy products you make on your farm, rummaging through it. “d’ya like strawberries?”

abby nodded, wondering what you were getting at. “i do.”

“alright, then,” you nod in return, pulling out one of your jugs of strawberry milk and sliding it across the counter towards her. “can’t have a pretty thing like you burnin’ up in this heat, now can we? promise you’ll like it.”

abby cursed the blush on her cheeks, hoping you’d think she was getting sunburnt instead. pretty. you think she’s fucking pretty. “i- i’m sure i will, but i don’t think the change i gave you covers this,” abby said, just about ready to reach into her wallet and give you every last bill in it. but you shake your head, taking her previous words.

“ah ah ah. i insist. alright?” you say, and there’s a no nonsense way about the words that leave your lips, like you won’t take no for an answer, so firm that it sends chills down abby’s spine. she pouts and she’s fucking adorable as she does it. and when she gives you a reluctant nod, you smile. “attagirl.”

jesus christ.

“i’m going to pay you back for this. somehow,” abby says, a hint of brattiness to her voice. you can’t say you don’t like it, especially when it’s accompanied with that cute pout of hers. you chuckle as she asks, “what do you want?”

“hm,” you pretend to think about it, putting your hands on your hips as you push your tongue into your cheek. abby’s trying and failing hard not to look at the sweat dripping down your tattooed arms. you make up your mind, then look down at her. “why don’t’cha come back tomorrow? late, when the market’s ‘bout to close. i’ll show’ya how to make it up to me,” you say with a wink.

abby’s heart skips a beat at your words. she doesn’t think she’s ever been more happy to hear a promise like that one. her smile is equal parts coy and shy as she responds to you. “i’ll be here.”

no matter how confident you look on the outside, butterflies are swarming ‘round your belly within. a pretty girl like this one, shy and sweet, generous and kind, was going to come back tomorrow to see you, no convincing needed. had you died and gone to heaven? you smile, blowing abby a little kiss. “alright, then. take care now, abigail,” you tease, just as she’s about to walk away. abby playfully rolls her eyes at you.

“abby.”

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ taglist! @aouiaa @plutolovesyou @soupycloud @xayn-xd

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atomicami · 1 year ago

Text

surprise visit

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: after your first encounter with abby, she’s all that’s on your mind. because of this, you decide to ditch work one day and go to her father’s contracting site to pay her a visit, only to find out that she feels the same way with you. (part 2 to quick fix)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, office sex, oral & fingering (both receiving) squirting, thoughts of strap usage, cockblocking, reader and abby almost getting caught again, pet names instead of y/n, abby begging if you squint, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: no bc i was literally shocked over how quick fix blew up omg?? thank you guys so much! i had so many people request for a part 2 so here it is! i hope y’all enjoy it :)

To your luck, your dad didn’t suspect anything when he found out the TV got fixed.

You told him that you ended up calling the electrician instead. And while he did scold you on how the electricians here tend to overcharge their customers for their services, he eventually just let it slide.

Besides, it would have been better to tell him that rather than the truth. That the daughter of his work rival set foot in his house to fix the TV, only to soon put her hands on, or rather inside his precious daughter.

Movie night flew by slow for you that day, like painfully slow. Abby was all that ran through your mind that night. You pretty much spent that night sitting on the couch surrounded by your friends, in that same spot where Abby’s head was in between your legs just a few hours before. You’d keep turning your head back just to take a peek at her house across from you.

Eventually, you became so desperate for that night to be over that you decided to end things early and escorted your friends out of your house, only to soon get under your bedsheets to try to fix the ache that was forming in between your legs once again.

But you knew damn well that it could never compare to how Abby made you finish that day. She made you finish in a way that no one else could have.

Despite that, the two of you may have thought about the idea that this could have just been a one-time thing, but you were still tempted to see her. You didn’t want to go against your dad’s rules, again…but just like the last time, part of you was leaning towards doing so.

Besides, you got away with it the first time…who’s to say you might be able to do this for a second?

But you don’t see her right away. Despite how hard it may be for you, you make the effort to wait for the right time.

A week passes by since your first encounter with Abby, and that’s when you decide to go see her.

You’re on your shift at work, finishing up some customer calls before gathering your things to head out. Once you get to the door, you stop in your tracks for a brief moment. A variety of questions start to flood your mind:

Is it worth it to take the risk again? What could happen if you end up getting caught? Would Abby even want to see you again? Is she craving you the same way you’re craving her right now?

You quickly shook your thoughts out of your head and turned the doorknob, exiting the office trailer before closing the door behind you. However, you only make it down the first few steps before running into your father. He bumps into you while finishing a call, phone in one hand and some files in another.

Joel quickly hangs up the phone and peers his eyes down at the screen. “Hey kiddo, I was just lookin’ for ya so I could give you these—“ He cuts his sentence off once he looks up from his phone to see you standing in front of him, bag over your shoulder and car keys in your hand, ready to leave as if your shift was already over. He looks at you with a confused expression. “Where are ya headed? You’re not done for another few hours.”

You try your best to come up with an excuse on the spot. “Oh, I have to head out to run some errands…I uh, need to start buying ingredients for the bake sale next week.”

That was a full-on lie. You already bought everything the week before. And knowing Joel, he can typically sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. But you still hope that he’ll take the bait for it.

Your dad simply nods and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Alright sweetheart, well, whenever you can, I need ya to file these for me. No rush though.” He hands you the files before passing by you to head into the office. You let out a sigh of relief, only for that feeling to soon come to a halt when he calls out your name again.

You turn back around to face him. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make that—that custard cake— what’s it called again…You made it last Thanksgiving at Uncle Tommy’s, remember?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You mean my flan?”

“Yes!” Your dad exclaims. “Make as many of those as you can. Wanna be able to beat Anderson in the bake sale this time.”

You pursed your lips together and nodded. “Alright, I’ll be sure to make those then,” you reply.

Your dad gives you a thumbs up in response before pulling out his phone to take another call and stepping back into the mobile office.

Another sigh of relief escapes from you. If it weren’t for your dad being so occupied with his clients, you definitely would have been caught a lot sooner. As much as you love and care for your dad, his obsession with trying to one-up Jerry at his job seriously drives you crazy.

Crazy to the point where you decide to break his rules and get with Jerry’s daughter, perhaps?

Once you approach the parking lot, you step into your car and start it up before pulling out your phone. The first thing you end up doing before anything else is shutting off your location. Aside from Abby being off limits, your father was never really the strict type. The only reason behind having a location set up on your phone was so he’d make sure you were safe whenever you’d be working late at the company or when you were out with friends.

But that’s not the case today, since you’re simply just ‘running errands’, as you so graciously told him before leaving.

Your finger hovers over the screen before tapping on the navigation app. You then type in the directions for Anderson Contracting Company.

Those are three words you definitely didn’t expect to be putting into your GPS.

Once the route guidance was set up, you shift your car into drive before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and exiting your dad’s contracting site.

Excluding the possibility of traffic, it usually takes about 15 minutes to get to Jerry’s contracting site. That is…if you’re taking the fastest route. But due to the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you decided to delay yourself as much as you could to get there. You avoid the highway if possible, purposefully miss every exit, and even let every single driver pass you while on the road. You’ve lost count of how often the GPS has rerouted since you were just going around in circles.

Eventually, you quit stalling and follow the correct route to Jerry’s contracting site. That feeling of deja vu instantly hits you once you see those two familiar pickup trucks in the parking lot upon arrival. It meant that there’d be another 50/50 chance of either running into Abby…or her father.

But it’s not too late though. You’re still in the car. You haven’t left yet. There’s still a chance to back out of this now and leave as if you never showed up in the first place.

But then again…you’re tempted to go in and search for her. You truly couldn’t resist being away from her for so long. A week may seem like nothing for most people, but to you, it felt like a fucking eternity. Do you really think that Abby might feel the same way?

Fuck it. You do it anyway.

Once you’ve stepped out of your car and locked it, you start making your way over to the contracting site. Your chances of backing out progressively become slimmer with every step you take.

Before you know it, you’re standing at the site, front and center. Jerry’s site looks quite similar to your dad’s—pretty spacious, filled with loads of inventory, it even had the same trailer-like mobile office that stood its ground next to the parking lot with its company logo in big, bold lettering.

But then again, all of that pretty much looked the same to you. The only task on your mind right now was to search for that man’s best employee: his daughter.

You squint your eyes to get a better look at the workers on site right now. They all looked the same to you due to the far distance—a bunch of little figures all spread out in its ample environment. However, you do see Jerry standing among those figures, to which you’re relieved. He had the same height and build as Joel, but with lighter physical features instead of your father’s dark ones. At least you knew where he was situated right now.

But Abby? She was nowhere to be seen.

It didn’t make sense to you at first. Her truck was in the parking lot, and given her prominent figure, she’d be easily identifiable out of all of the workers that were scattered around the site.

Regret starts to pass through your body right now. You felt like you’d wasted your time coming here.

That is…until you feel a strong, familiar hand grab your arm from behind.

You freeze in your tracks and slowly turn your head around. Your prayers have been answered once again.

Abby keeps her grip on your arm and turns you around, her body shielding yours so her father wouldn’t spot you from the distance. She then leans into your ear. “Stay in front of me and keep walking forward,” she says sternly.

You nod and continue to walk in her direction. The two of you approach straight to the mobile office, and you notice that the door is wide open. Looks like that solves the mystery as to why you couldn’t find her in the first place.

Abby guides you up the steps and brings you inside the trailer. She makes sure to check her surroundings before entering inside and closing the door behind her, locking it shut.

“Are you seriously out of your mind?” She asks, turning around to face you. “It’s one thing to come to my house, but to come to where I work? And with my dad here? What if he saw you?”

You shook your head at her and put your hands up to quiet her down. “I know, I know…This is literally the last place I’m supposed to be at right now, but I need to talk to you.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head as she walked over to her side of the trailer where her desk was. “About what?” She asks, turning back around again to face you.

“It’s about last week, um…” you trail off for a second, briefly averting your gaze from her and nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “When you came over to fix my outlet…”

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could feel the smirk that was growing on her face. Abby leans back against the corner of her desk and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? Which outlet are we talking about, exactly?”

Looking back at her now, you scoff at her and lightly shove her shoulder. “Come on, you know exactly what I mean…” You let out a sigh before continuing. “Look, I don’t know about you but…it’s been on my mind this past week. And I need you to do it again. Please.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at your statement. “Make you do what now?”

Jesus. She’s really trying to get the words out of your mouth, isn’t she?

Another sigh leaves from your lips. Your eyes divert back to the ground again. “I…I need you to make me finish like that again.” You mutter out to her. “No one has ever been able to make me feel that good…besides you.”

As hard as you were trying right now, the desperation in your voice was still so obvious to hear. You didn’t want to be desperate about it, but you couldn’t help it.

However, Abby was quite flattered to hear that, and even a little relieved. Despite her previous experiences with women, she wanted to be able to please you the most. It was just hard for her to ever do so due to both of your dads’ rules.

She looks out the window for a moment. Her dad appeared to be miles away from the two of you, still barking orders at his employees over inventory. She then walks over to the back of her desk and moves some things around to make some space before motioning you to come over. “Come here. Sit on my desk.”

You oblige, walking over to the back of her desk. You give yourself a boost and sit on top of it. Looking down, you see her hands placed down on the desk, one on each of your sides. It’s almost as if she’s slowly entrapping you with her large frame.

You look back up at her to see her looking down at your lap, watching how your thighs are pressed together right now. “I don’t regret it, you know…” she starts, looking up at you. “Coming over. I don’t regret it at all. If anything, you’ve been on my mind just as much since then.” She then leans into the left side of your face and whispers this memorable statement in your ear:

“Even my tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Fuck..” You mutter under your breath, averting your gaze back down. Her words alone were already turning you on and making your arousal rush quickly to your core.

Her eyes were now meeting with yours when you looked back up at her. “Would you want to do it again?” You asked her. That same smirk shows back on her face as Abby shakes her head. She thought your question was ridiculous, even after hearing what she had just said to you. But on the contrary to last week, you were now the one seeking reassurance from her.

Without taking her eyes off of yours, she slightly parts your legs open with her knee and slides a hand underneath the knee-length pencil skirt you were wearing. Your breath hitched once you felt her touch, followed by your thighs tensing up a little. “Is this answering your question right now?” she asks, not stopping her movements.

You try to catch your breath as she holds eye contact with you, nodding slowly as her hand inches closer to your heat. Her actions come to a halt once her hand reaches your clothed cunt. It wasn’t until her fingertips brushed against the soft fabric that you broke eye contact with her to look down at your lap, even though her hand was hidden under your skirt.

Abby did the same, gently pressing her thumb down against the now damp piece of fabric that was separating her hand and your pussy. Her action causes you to jerk back a little. The ache in between your legs was making you sensitive. “You’re so wet for me already, fuck…” she mutters out, hooking her finger underneath your underwear and moving it to the side. You spread your legs out farther for her for better access, trying to hold back your whimpers when the cool air of the office’s AC tunnels under your skirt and hits your wet pussy.

This gives Abby the chance to start inserting one of her fingers inside you. The second her fingertips start passing through your tight entrance, you instantly feel alleviated. Despite the slightly uncomfortable feeling it can give you at first, there was something about Abby’s fingers that was just so…addicting. It’s almost as if you needed to have her touch inside of you all the time.

You can’t help but let out a whimper once you feel a second finger enter inside you not even a minute later. Abby leans in to kiss you, desperate to swallow the pretty sounds you’re making while her fingers were nestling in your pussy.

“God…” she begins to mutter in between kisses. “It’s only been a week…and you feel even tighter than when I first went down on you…” She briefly pulls away from your lips to kiss your neck.

Abby silently cursed at herself for not having her strap in her possession. If only she had known beforehand that you were going to sneak your way out of work to come see her, she would’ve brought it with her. As much as she loved having you come undone onto her fingers, there was truly nothing more she wanted to do right now than to fuck you senselessly on top of her desk.

Your hands grip the edge of her desk when she begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your pussy. More sounds continue to leave your lips, and you begin to involuntarily grind your hips against her hand as a desperate call for her to go faster, which she soon ends up doing.

“Fuck, Abby…” you whimper out to her. “Your fingers…feel so good…” You bring your gaze back down to your lap, watching the hidden movements of her hand under your skirt.

Secretly, it was kind of pissing both of you off that you still had that fucking skirt on. You’ve been trying to hold back the urge to strip yourself down. The pleasure that Abby’s giving you right now with just her two fingers was so good that having your skirt and underwear still on you was bothering you so much. At that moment you didn’t want anything touching you from the waist down.

Anything except for Abby’s fingers.

And it was even more frustrating on Abby’s part because although she could feel and even hear your needy pussy underneath your skirt right now, she couldn’t see what she was doing. She wanted to see her actions right now. She wanted to watch your pussy visibly contract against her thick fingers before coming undone on them.

That stupid skirt was by far the worst obstacle for the two of you right now. But regardless, it wasn’t going to stop Abby from trying to make you finish. You told her that you needed her to make you cum just like how she did when she first came over, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

Your grip on her desk tightened when her fingers were now going at an uncontrollably fast pace. Your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your mouth slightly parted. A moan would escape from your mouth with every brush of her fingertips on your g spot. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach forms as your cunt begins to pulse around her fingers, indicating that you were getting close.

Just like last time, your head starts to feel heavy once again. You try to tilt back down to meet with Abby’s gaze so you can let her know. “A-Abby…” you call out to her. “I—fuck—I’m getting close…”

She simply nods, not quitting her pace with her fingers. “I know you are, that needy cunt of yours won’t stop squeezing my fingers.” She looks back up at you. “Just ride it out for me like last time, make yourself cum on my—“

Then suddenly she cuts her words off. Her gaze starts to avert away from yours, and her fingers start to slow down.

She turns her head around to look out the window, leading you to do the same. The pleasure in your body soon starts to replace itself with panic when you see who’s approaching closer to the office.

Abby’s father.

She turns her head to face you and she can practically see the pleading in your eyes. You were already so close to the finish line. So close to finishing on her fingers and getting to that blissful feeling that you’ve been craving from her touch for the past week.

“Abby…” you whisper out to her. “Please…just let me finish…”

Although she felt like she could do it, and make a new record out of it, she just couldn’t take the risk.

Abby could feel her heartbeat racing as she heard her father’s footsteps get closer to the door. She looks over at you, her gaze flickering between your face and your lap, where her fingers remain inside of you.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered back and pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss.

The rattling of the doorknob startles the two of you, followed by the sound of keys jingling. Abby instinctively grabs your hips, getting you off of her desk. “Get under my desk,” she commands, leading you to quickly crouch down onto the ground and tuck yourself into the leg area of her desk.

Abby sits back down in her chair and scooches in, scattering all of her blueprints, sketches, and files back on the center of her desk to make herself look busy.

Then the door clicks, right on time.

She looks over to her left and watches her father enter inside. Jerry’s eyes were fixed on his phone screen for a moment before looking up to see her. “Hey kid, I didn’t know you’d still be in here,” he says, walking over to her desk. “Why’d you lock the door?”

Abby immediately starts stammering on the spot, trying her best to figure out an excuse. “Oh, um…I think the self-lock was still on..”

He nods in response, looking at the door and back at her. “I see…Well, I have to head into town in a bit to check out a client’s property. They’re in need of their kitchen being remodeled and I’d like to get to them before Miller does. Do you think you can go outside and finish up with inventory while I’m out?”

Abby nods slowly in response. “Yeah dad, of course, I can do that for you.”

The two of you figured that Jerry would leave after that…But he doesn’t. He continues to discuss work with her while you remain hidden under her desk.

About three minutes have gone by, but to you, it feels more like three hours. Despite the amount of legroom that Abby’s desk had, you still felt so cramped up. All that was there to see right now were three dark walls and the sight of Abby from the waist down. Wait a minute…

That’s when an idea popped into your head. The way Abby was sitting, manspread in her chair, her cargo pants tightly hugging her thighs even though they’re meant to be loose, and that tool belt of hers…it sure seemed to provide some coverage down there, right?

You want to talk yourself out of it, you really do. This wasn’t the time or the place to be doing this right now. But five minutes have passed now and you truly have no idea when the hell Jerry is going to get out of there so the two of you could be alone. Might as well keep yourself occupied for the time being, right?

Without trying to make any noise underneath, you shift your position on the ground until you’re kneeling. While Abby now remains distracted by talking to her father, you slip your hands in under the large pouches that were attached to her tool belt. Once your hands find the button and zipper of her cargo pants, you attempt to undo them and get them off of her.

Abby’s eyes quickly flicker to her lap before looking back at her dad, who was now talking to her about another client that Joel took from him. She notices what you’re trying to do, she can see it without even having to take her tool belt off. She truly wishes more than anything right now that she could at least help you take her pants off for her.

“…so I'm going to see if I can be able to meet with them next week and see if I can convince them to do business with us instead of Joel. I was thinking that—” Jerry’s words soon get cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, leading him to pull it out of his pocket and answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is him…”

While Abby’s father speaks through the phone, he briefly looks away from her. This gave the perfect moment for her to discreetly lift her hips so you could get her cargo pants and boxers down. You open her legs, eyeing her pussy that was hidden underneath her tool belt. Without even thinking twice, you dive in between her legs, quickly latching your mouth onto her clit.

Oh God, now Abby really needed her dad to leave right now.

The chair starts to shake a little beneath you as Abby’s hands grip each side of the armrest, trying to hold back any sounds as you sucked on her clit. Now it was up to Abby to try and compose herself in front of her father because the second he’ll notice something unusual, both of you would be screwed.

Abby glances over to see her dad turned around, still complaining through the phone. Her breath continues to hitch while you keep sucking and licking at her clit. “God, your mouth feels so good…” she mutters out quietly to you, praying that her dad didn’t hear her. She soon hears her dad finishing up his phone call and sits back up before scooching forward, trying to hide as much of herself below the waist down as possible.

“Look, just give me ten minutes and I'll be there. I’ll show you the plans I have for your kitchen, and I can assure you it’ll be better than what Miller would have in mind.” Jerry soon says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and turning back around to face his daughter.

“That was the client I was just about to go see today. They’re already considering doing business with Joel instead.” he crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief. “The nerve of this ignorant man…He’s seriously trying to do anything just to get more clients than me…” he lets out another sigh before continuing. “I'm gonna head out now to meet with them. Please make sure to finish up on inventory before you leave alright?”

Although it wasn’t like you had a choice at that moment, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on what Jerry was saying. You were definitely into Abby, but you couldn’t stand how Jerry talked about your father. As a result, you decided to do something just a little bold. While your mouth was fixated on playing with Abby’s clit, you insert two of your fingers into her pussy with no warning, causing her to jerk back at the sudden movement.

“Y-Yeah!” she exclaims before quickly closing her mouth shut, as well as her thighs. “Yeah, um…I-I’ll be sure to do that…” she says, her voice back at her normal volume.

Her father raised an eyebrow in suspicion but didn’t think anything of it. The only thing on his mind right now was getting to that client’s place before Joel does. “Alright then…I'll see you at home.”

Abby watches as her dad leaves the office and closes the door behind him. She turned her head around to the window to make sure he was officially out of view before letting out a sigh of relief. “Fuck…” she breathes out. She then pushes her chair back and quickly unbuckles her tool belt before tossing it to the ground, looking down to see the sight of you with your mouth and fingers both still attached to her cunt.

“You really are a fucking tease, aren't you?” she asks you. “Going down on me like that while my dad’s in the office because you can’t keep it in your pants…I didn’t take it that you’d be such a slut for me like that…”

With your fingers still inside of her, you briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to respond to her. “I seriously couldn't keep waiting any longer, Abby…” you plead out to her.

Abby slightly tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. “Did I tell you to stop doing that, though?” she asks.

You shake your head in response. “No, I—”

“Exactly. So get back to it, princess.”

You then feel her hand on the back of your head, bringing it back down into her pussy. Without taking your eyes off of hers, you seal your mouth back onto her clit while pumping your two fingers in and out of her cunt, watching her every move to the pleasure that you were giving her.

“Fuck, oh God…” she moans out, pushing your head farther in. “Fuck, just like that…p-put that mouth of yours to good use…”

You moan into her pussy as a response, causing her body to slightly shiver. Your fingers speed up their pace inside her, desperately trying to get her to break apart. A string of breathy moans continues to escape from Abby’s mouth while your head stays nudged in between her legs.

You can’t help but hear those sounds that Abby was making as your tongue kept lapping up her juices. It was making you even wetter than before. You wanted to reach down and touch yourself so fucking bad, but you couldn’t. Not only was it because Abby would immediately suspect that you were doing that to yourself, but you were getting so fucking drunk from her pussy that you couldn’t even move any other part of your body except for the parts that were moving inside her right now.

“Oh fuck, I think I’m getting close…” she moans out to you, tightening the grip on her armrest. “Please…please don’t stop…”

The way Abby had begged you to keep going was driving you insane. Now you were more motivated than ever to make her finish. Your fingers were cramping, your jaw was getting sore, and your face was so buried in her pussy that you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

But you still refused to quit.

You keep driving her up to her climax until she finally comes undone with a broken moan, finishing all over your mouth and fingers. Once she’s finished on you, you lick and suck her release until she’s completely clean before taking your mouth and fingers out of her.

Abby looks back down and is amazed at the sight of you right now. Your pupils were completely blown out due to how drunk you’d gotten from her pussy, and her release was smeared all over your face. “Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who likes to get all pussydrunk…” she tells you, smirking once again.

You meet your gaze with hers and smirk back at her. “I had to return the favor for you somehow…” you reply, wiping her release off of your chin with the back of your hand. “Consider it a thank you for fixing my outlet last week.”

Abby returns your response with a smile. However, her eyes soon flicker over to your lap, where you were clenching your thighs together on the ground. Now she remembered that she needed to finish what she started.

She leans over to put her boxers and cargo pants back on before standing up completely. “Come on, get back up on my desk.”

With your legs still together, you slowly get up from the ground and stand up next to her. After almost getting caught by Abby’s dad and being under her desk for what felt like fucking forever, chances are that the heat pooling between your legs right now is going to be a lot more for Abby to work with this time.

You watched as she made space on her desk for you again by pushing her things around. Some of her blueprints and sketches fell to the ground as a result, but she could honestly care less about that. Her hands then move to your waist, picking you up in an effortless manner and placing you back onto her desk before leaning in and locking her lips with yours, tasting a bit of herself in the process.

Your hands grab at her shirt and pull her closer to you, while Abby’s hands grab the hem of your skirt and pulls it down your legs, followed by your underwear right after. Her lips then pull themselves away from yours so she can look down at your pussy. “Oh my God….” she breathes out to you, her face inches from yours. The arousal in between your legs had spread so much that even your inner thighs were shining with your slick.

“You’ve been trying to hide this mess while you were under my desk, weren’t you?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

The sight of your wet pussy was so fucking much for Abby right now that she needed to step back and sit back down. You watched as she sat back in her chair and pulled onto the side lever, letting it sink down so her face was parallel to your pussy.

Without even thinking twice, she dives her head in between your legs. As much as Abby had wanted to challenge herself and use her fingers like last time, she still had that desire to taste you, because she truly is one for craving the way your arousal would linger on her tongue.

“Fuck, Abby…f-feels so good…” you whimper out to her, grabbing her braid and pushing her head further into your pussy. With half-lidded eyes, you make the effort to keep your gaze at the window to be on the lookout. You seriously did not want to have to deal with the possibility of getting walked in on…again.

The amount of moans and whimpers that leave your mouth only drives Abby to speed up her pace. She ends up pulling your hips closer towards her as she continues to eat you out like a woman starved before inserting two fingers inside and quickly pumping them in and out of you.

Your hands have flown back to gripping the edge of her desk once again and your elbows are now propped at the center of it to support yourself. You can’t even focus on looking out the window anymore with all of the overstimulation that she was giving you right now. At this point, both of you could care less about someone knocking again.

It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to build up in the pit of your stomach again. That same feeling that you had gotten when she came over last week, that same feeling that you had reached around 15 minutes ago before Abby’s father decided to interfere at the wrong time.

You try your best to even form a sentence right now to let her know that you were getting close. “A-Abby…I-fuck…I’m getting close again…”

She simply looks up at you without stopping her movements. Her bright blue eyes were darker than before, and her pupils were blown out just like yours not too long ago. She was getting drunk off of your arousal once again.

With her free hand, she manages to do that same movement with you again, where she brings it over to your stomach and presses her palm down, all while maintaining her mouth on your clit and her fingers pumping and curling themselves deep into your cunt.

From there, it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak.

“A-Abby…I’m gonna—Fuck!”

And that’s when it hits you. Before you could even warn her again your cunt pulses hard once last time before cumming all over her mouth and fingers, leading her to greedily drink you clean. Your head is thrown back in pleasure, your stomach is all tense from the pressure of Abby’s hand, and your inner thighs are trembling and dripping.

Once you’re able to catch your breath, you look down and watch Abby pull her mouth and fingers out of you. That same deja vu feeling hits you again when you see the condition she was in. She was just as out of breath as you were, and her fingers, face, and lap were now covered in your release.

Abby leans in and strokes your trembling thighs to calm them down followed by planting kisses throughout the tender parts of your skin. “You alright there?” she asks with a smirk, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

You nod slowly at her and give her a smile, still slightly drunk off of your orgasm. “Yeah, fuck…” you breathe out. “You’re so good at this, you know..”

The blonde simply shrugs in response. “Anything to get that taste from you, princess.” she replied with a chuckle, kissing your inner thigh one last time before setting it down.

You watch as she picks up your underwear and skirt off the ground and helps you get them back on before getting off of her desk. You hear her chuckle again when she sees you try to stand with your legs still limp. “Think you can walk?” she asks, that same smirk showing up on her face again.

You roll your eyes at her and playfully slap her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be fine…” you tell her in reassurance.

Abby shakes her head in response, placing one hand on your waist before holding one of yours with her. “Let me walk you to your car. I’ll take you out the back so no one sees us.”

Once you safely get to your car, you unlock it and slip yourself into the driver's seat before closing the door and starting it. You then roll down the window to see her hovered over you, her arms resting on the roof of your car.

You feel yourself blush a little when you see how damp her clothes now were because of you. “Um, what do you plan to do with that?” you ask her curiously, pointing at her clothes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got my gym clothes in my truck, I’ll be fine.” she reassures you.

You nod in response. “Okay, well…thanks again for, um…”

“Fixing your outlet again?” she asks, raising her eyebrow.

You let out a laugh at her response. “Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, “For fixing my outlet, again.”

Abby chuckles and shakes her head, briefly looking down at the ground before back up at you. “So I’ll see you at the bake sale next week?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your smile before nodding again. “I’ll be there.”

Abby leans in to kiss you goodbye before tapping on the roof of your car, indicating that you were good to leave. You wave at her as you pull your car out of the parking lot and exit the site.

Well, it’s safe to say that you most definitely will be attending that bake sale next week.

- a/n: did not expect this one to get long…part 3 anyone?

part 3 here

requested tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @winfleurs @aouiaa @zombholic @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch

(striked text means i couldn’t tag sorry!!)

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 7 months ago

Note

sheldon cooper x reader??? thanks 😍

my first request!!! hope you like it :)

girl from the train station

"WAIT!" sheldon's voice called at the train that had just driven off. oh he was so screwed. his mom would be so mad; this had definitely put him off breaking rules for life.

he sighed and looked round to see if there was anyone he could ask for help. then he realised he was in germany, of course there wouldn't be many people that could help him! his german was good, but it could only take him so far.

"hey, are you okay?" your voice interrupted him from his thoughts. he looked up to see you, standing in front of him, a sympathetic smile on your face.

"hallo-." sheldon begins in german but you cut him off.

"i speak english, i'm here visiting family." you chuckle. sheldon finds himself smiling slightly as well, but quickly stops.

"oh well.. i'm definitely not okay, i just missed my train in a foreign country and my mom's going to kill me because she thinks i'm at the library." sheldon says, in a panicked tone.

"calm down," you say comfortingly, "i think my mom can help you get home."

"really? that would be wonderful." sheldon breathes out a sigh of relief.

"yeah.. i'm y/n. by the way. nice to meet you." you hold out your hand for him to shake.

"sheldon." he looks at your outstretched hand, and reluctantly shakes it.

you give him a confused look.

"sorry i don't really like physical contact, no offence but i don't know what germs you have." he states, matter-of-factly.

surprisingly, you laugh. "fair enough."

sheldon smiles slightly back. you seemed a nice enough girl, he felt like he could trust you.

"right, you're in luck, we just dropped my dad and brother off here, so we'll be able to take you back to your mom." you say, and lead him to where he had just bought that damn strudel that made him miss his train in the first place.

"mom" you approach a woman that looked like an older version of you, "sheldon missed his train home and has no way of getting back!"

"now now honey calm down." your mom says then turns to look at sheldon, "do you know where you're staying?"

sheldon nods and tells her where he's staying.

"oh, that's right around the corner from my parents, that'll be easy then, you can come with us if you'd like." your mom smiles at him.

"i.. would like that." sheldon nods.

"great!" you cheer. sheldon looks at you. although you weren't his type of person (then again, who was?), he found you endearing.

"let's go then!" you say, and the three of you walk to your mom's car.

"would you like to sit up front sheldon? i'm feeling generous." you smile at him.

"no thank you, it's statistically safer in the back." he says, but then sees your face drop a little. "thank you though." he adds, and smiles at you.

"that's fine, i'll keep you company." you take a seat beside sheldon in the back.

your mom starts the car, and then you were on your way back to sheldon's hotel.

"so where are you from sheldon?" you ask, wanting to find some things out about him.

"medford, texas. what about you?" he nods.

"nice, i'm from (insert place here)." you respond.

"how come you're in germany anyway, sounds like a long way from home?" you chuckle.

"i'm here at grad school." sheldon responds.

"grad school?! wow you must be a genius." your eyes widen.

sheldon sees your reaction and chuckles.

"i am, i started college at 11." he subtly brags.

"11?? woah!" unlike many other kids his age, you seemed impressed and in awe of him. he liked that.

"yeah." sheldon says.

"i wish i was as smart as you." you look at him.

"it's just a natural gift." he responds. "i'm sure you're good at other things that i'm not. for example sports."

you giggle. "maybe i am. then."

for the rest of the car journey, you and sheldon talked about yourselves. sheldon learnt you came to germany quite a lot because your grandparents lived here, you had an older brother who annoyed the living hell out of you (he could relate) and you were a swimmer. he found himself quite enjoying talking to you, and was quite sorry when he arrived back to his hotel.

"here we are, it's been a pleasure driving you home sheldon." your mom speaks up from the front.

"thank you so much for driving me." he smiles politely.

"mom, please can i walk sheldon in!" you beg.

"alright, but don't be too long." she smiles fondly at you.

"come on." you say to sheldon who thanks your mom again and you walk up to his shared room.

you reach to a stop outside of his door and sigh.

"well.. it was nice meeting you sheldon." you smile sadly at him.

"and you. i had a great time talking to you in the car." he smiles back.

"yeah uhh.. maybe i could give you my number, in case you'd want to talk again..? you can tell me more about your string theory." you feel your face heat up and look down.

sheldon's eyes widen "uhh yeah okay." he surprises himself.

"here." you take hold of his hand and write your number on it, using a pen from you pocket.

"i'll call you." he nods. "well goodbye y/n.."

"bye sheldon." you reply and before he can stop you, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and walk off.

sheldon brought his hand to his cheek, open-mouthed. first, he lied to his mom, then he snuck out, and now he had just been kissed by a girl!

maybe today hadn't been so bad after all.

#x reader #sheldon cooper #sheldon cooper x reader #young sheldon #fanfic #fluff #mary cooper #georgie cooper #george cooper #missy cooper #young sheldon x reader #request

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tightjeansjavi · 11 months ago

Text

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ Tinsel ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count: 4.9k~

pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”

Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)

“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.

Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”

“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.

“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.

“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.

“But—” your voice falls short.

You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.

“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.

Cheeky.

A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.

He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.

“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.

“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—

“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.

It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.

“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”

“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.

4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.

Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.

Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.

“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.

Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.

A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.

“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.

“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.

“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”

“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.

Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.

“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”

Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.

“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.

“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.

Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.

Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.

“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.

“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.

“Joel..” you warned.

“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”

How did you get so lucky?

“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.

“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.

(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)

You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.

“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.

You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”

“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”

“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.

“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.

His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.

The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.

He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.

“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.

He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.

“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.

“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.

His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.

“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.

“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.

“I love you.”

His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”

“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.

“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.

“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.

You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.

“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.

“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.

“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.

“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.

“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.

“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?

“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”

She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.

Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.

I just need a breather.

The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.

“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.

“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.

“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.

“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”

“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.

More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.

What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.

“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.

“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”

“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.

Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.

Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.

Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.

Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.

It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.

“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.

Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.

“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.

“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.

“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.

“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.

“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”

He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”

“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.

“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.

“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.

“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.

“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.

“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.

“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”

Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.

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