#granite countertop colours

[wetwibuwution]

I just got an ad for headstones and I am cackling. Like ads hit the wrong audience all the time but this one is just so niche and specifically incorrect I have to laugh. No thank you, this is literally what my family does for a living and you’ll have to pry making my own headstone out of my cold dead hands

[ellecdc]

Helloo!!!

Fisrt: I bloody love your blog, you knoked me up on Poly!Moonwater and now I always think about them.

Second: Could I request black brother centric fic? Like it’s a Poly!wolfstar X reader, (or literally any ship that you like involving Sirius), where they have a kid, and Sirius is like watching them play alongside Reg, and he just starts spiralling bc he’s afraid that he might become like his parents, and Reg starts comforting him taking in account what they had to go through, and their relationship growing ecc… and he’s like “Just the fact that you’re worrying means you’re not like that, you’re doing a great job.” And Sirius just dies crying with him.

Obv only if you feel comfortable writing it!! Thank you!!!

those poor sad boys; what I wouldn't do for them

parents!wolfstar x reader but it's Sirius and Regulus centric

CW: brief mention of Black brother's childhood, Sirius spiralling, Regulus talking sense into him, baby wolfstar being a certified menace, hurt/comfort

Regulus should have known there was an ulterior motive to Sirius’ “are you busy this afternoon?” text. 

Not that Regulus didn’t like spending time with his older brother (though he would staunchly deny that he did if Sirius ever asked), but it wasn’t common for Sirius to invite him over unprompted.

And sure enough, as Regulus stepped through the floo at your, Remus, and Sirius’ shared home, he quickly realised why.

Your pudgy little offspring (that Regulus loved more than life itself) was sitting in a booster seat at the kitchen island as she shoved some form of noodle into her mouth and babbled at Sirius which sounded nonsensical to Regulus but seemed to make perfect sense to Sirius as he answered her queries.

And you and Remus were nowhere to be found. 

“Look who it is, babygirl!” Sirius cheered as Regulus stepped into the kitchen, though Regulus could see some of his brother’s usual enthusiasm was curbed.

“Unc’Regloo!” Aurora cheered excitedly as she raised her messy fists up into the air much like she was cheering at a quidditch match. 

“How’s my future little seeker?” Regulus asked as he planted a kiss into the toddler’s  hair.

“Please.” Sirius scoffed as Regulus knew he would. “She’s going to be a beater like her daddy, obviously.”

Sirius and Remus (though Remus certainly only did it to get a rise out of Sirius) argued emphatically over who the child looked more alike - Sirius or Remus - having kept the biological father unknown.

Regulus was happy to note though that the child was nearly a carbon copy of you; She had your hair, your eyes, and your smile. 

But the way the child ‘pat Regulus’ arm lovingly’ [leaving a small orange coloured handprint on his pressed shirt] was all Sirius. 

“Where’s your better third’s?” Regulus asked as he leaned against the granite countertops - well out of reach of Sirius’ mischievous offspring [and her messy hands]. 

Sirius spared him a half-hearted glare as he turned back to watch his daughter. “Papa had an interview at Hogwarts today and mummy is at the Ministry.” Sirius explained as if it had been Aurora who had asked the question.

“I see why you called, then.” Regulus added solemnly, turning to look at the child. “I wouldn’t want to leave you alone with Papa either.”

The child giggled as she shoved more noodles into her mouth, but Regulus turned to see Sirius staring at the child dejectedly.

“Sirius?”

Sirius cleared his throat and seemed to ‘shake himself off’ as he asked Aurora to drink some water and then helped her clean her hands and face [and even her hair; Salazar, babies were messy]. 

“Daddy! Can play outside?” Aurora asked excitedly, clasping her hands under her chin and batting her lashes at her father as if she were asking for something quite outlandish.

“Of course, sweetheart! Lead the way!” Sirius agreed readily, following the child out the sliding back door as Regulus followed the pair. 

Aurora was no sooner pouring sand into a little plastic bucket before Sirius let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Reg.” He whispered quietly.

Regulus surveyed his brother in bemusement; Sirius sat on the patio furniture with his elbows on his knees and one hand covering his mouth as he stared unseeingly at his daughter.

“You’re supervising your child during playtime, Sirius.” Regulus offered, causing Sirius to scoff unamusedly. 

“I’m going to fuck it up; all of it. I don’t know why I ever thought I could do this, because I can’t.” 

“Whoa, whoa.” Regulus interrupted quickly, turning his body directly towards his brother. “You can’t do what exactly?”

“Any of it, Regulus.”

“You can’t love Remus and Y/N?” Regulus asked simply.

“Well, no not that; I mean, of course I do-”

“You can’t love that sweet little girl over there who thinks you just hung the stars because you agreed to let her play in dirt?” He continued, gesturing to said child who was now dumping the bucket of sand on top of her head and squealing in delight. 

“I….I don’t know how to be good… To be a good husband and father to them, Reg. I don’t know how to be…to be better; better than them.” 

The them remained unexplained, but both brother’s knew who Sirius was referring to.

“Well,” Regulus started with a sigh, turning back to watch Aurora jump up and run over only to slam her little body into Sirius’ larger one. 

Sirius, for his part, pretended to have the wind knocked out of him causing the child to squeal before he scooped her up into his arms and planted three smacking kisses to her sand covered face, and plopping her back on the ground for her to toddle back off again. 

“Mother would have had your head for squealing like that.” Regulus said simply, causing Sirius to let out a sigh that sounded awfully close to a sob. “Father would have backhanded you for getting sand on his trousers. Kreacher would have been ordered to lock you in your room for daring to touch a guest with dirty little hands if we had ever dared to eat without utensils.”

He took a deep breath before he turned his now shining eyes back to his big brother; the only family member who ever showed him any amount of love and affection throughout his entire childhood that wasn’t conditional or performative. “And I don’t know that I was ever kissed by our parents. Were you? Do you remember them pressing a kiss to our cheeks?”

Sirius shook his head minutely as both brothers pretended they didn’t notice the tears falling down his face. 

“That child is far more loved by you alone than the two of us ever were growing up, and the best part is that she knows she’s that loved.” Regulus pressed, looking back towards his niece as she moved towards a water table Sirius had called Regulus over to help Remus build a few weeks ago whilst he and you drank spiked lemonade and watched them struggle. 

“And that’s not even taking into account the amount of family she has surrounding her; me, the Potter’s, Remus’ parents, and you Marauders.” He spat as if it was a dirty word, causing Sirius to chuckle wetly. 

“And Siri…” Regulus stated more earnestly, forcing Sirius to make eye contact with him before continuing. “The fact that you’re even worried about it tells me you’re already far better than them, yeah?”

Sirius chuckled wetly again as he squeezed his eyes shut; more tears falling as he nodded his head. 

Both boys were surprised when a small hand appeared on Sirius’ cheek, gently wiping at the tears adorning her father’s face.  “Why daddy cry? Daddy have owie?”

Sirius laughed again and pulled himself together. “No, daddy doesn’t have an owie darling girl.”

“Daddy sad?” She asked again, tilting her head slightly as if that might help her understand her father’s predicament any better.

“Daddy was sad, but he feels a lot better now that you’re here.” He said with a smile. “Better not leave me here alone with your uncle though, otherwise he might make me cry again.”

Regulus scoffed derisively before Aurora pointed a stern glare at him that wasn’t particularly intimidating but sweet Merlin did she ever look like you.

“Bad unc-Regloo! Make daddy cry!” She shouted as she hopped off her father’s lap and made for Regulus. 

Regulus - not willing to find out what exactly the child had in store for him - hopped out of his seat and took off in a ‘run’ which began a squeal-laughing chase around the backyard as Sirius laughed and cheered Aurora on.

“That’s right, baby girl! Avenge your father! Make sure to get his ribs; that’s where he’s most ticklish!”

Yeah, Regulus thought to himself, Sirius really has nothing to worry about at all. 

[eff4freddie]

Sittin'

Joel Miller x F!Babysitter Reader No outbreak Joel Miller AU - Words: 10k

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI

You're working your way through medical school, supporting yourself by taking the occasional babysitting gig. One local single Dad needs someone to look after his 10 year old daughter Sarah on nights when he's late back from the jobsite. And it's all fine and good until your neglectful boyfriend decides to crash the party. Warnings: small age gap (Joel is 32, reader is in medical school), reader is babysitting Sarah as a side hustle to support her studies, Sarah is cute, reader has a shit boyfriend, Joel is trying really hard to resist, exhibitionism, thigh-riding, praise, dirty talk, thigh-humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, general defiling of a perfectly good granite countertop, Joel has opinions about how a woman should be treated as is not afraid to demonstrate them.

A/N: My attempts at writing PWP almost always end up like 10k lol. Whatever, I like a good slow burn. If you enjoy, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you - Freddie x

It was a hot night, the latest in a long line. You knew you were lucky getting to spend some of your evenings over at the Millers, simply because it meant you got to sit under Mr Miller’s air conditioner, the box wedged firm into the window in the living room, little droplets of water condensing and running down the pane of glass underneath it. You’d put a dishtowel down to protect the carpet.

You knew you were lucky, too, because once Sarah went off to bed you could spread your books over Mr Miller’s kitchen table, listening to the buzzing of the fridge as you tried to memorise the functions of the lobes in the brain. In class, your biomedicine professor had blown up balloons and handed out sharpies, inviting her students to draw the lobes in the right place, and yours had popped when you pressed too hard on the occipital lobe, and your lab partner had laughed and said that it was ironic, but you couldn’t figure it: the motor cortex would have been ironic, this was just startling.

You cracked your neck, rolling your shoulders and looking over to the clock on the wall. Nearly 10:30 PM. Mr Miller would be coming back soon.

Sarah was a good kid, and some nights she stayed up to ‘help’ you study, mostly by pointing to pictures in your textbooks and asking you to explain them to her. She’d hated the full-page coloured illustration of the eye, but had been fascinated by the heart, trailing her finger along the arteries, into the chambers, tracing the pathway in and out again. You’d make a cardiologist of her, yet.

Tonight, she’d only made it to twenty minutes past eight, her eyes growing heavy as she turned the pages of your book. This one didn’t have as many pictures, and you could sense her fatigue in the stuffy air.

‘What kind of doctor do you want to be?’ she’d asked, and you’d pulled your hair up off your neck to try and get some air on your skin. You weren’t sure how to explain it without sounding gruesome, without giving her nightmares. She was only 10.

‘When people have emergencies and they have to go to the hospital right away, they need to see a doctor to patch them back up again…’ you’d said, and she’d stared at you with a tiresome expression on her face.

‘I’m not a baby,’ she said, disapproving. You smiled at her.

‘Trauma surgeon,’ you replied. She nodded her head, deeming your answer satisfactory, and taking herself up the stairs to bed.

She was one of the easiest kids you’d ever babysat for, and over the years you’d racked up quite a roster. You’d started in high school, first saving up enough for the prom dress right in the storefront window, and then later keeping yourself fed during your undergrad. When you’d moved to Austin you’d rented a studio apartment in the back garden of a little old lady, a woman who had revealed herself to be an excellent cook if militant about her hydrangeas. You’d letterboxed the neighbourhood and picked up a few odd jobs but nothing lasting, until the evening you’d got a call from a very frantic Mr Miller, who was so beside himself he only asked how quick you could get there and didn’t even ask about your rates.

It turned out Mr Miller got caught up at the jobsite some nights, staying back later than he expected with his little brother to finish framing, or guttering, or wiring. He was running out of favours with his neighbours, he’d explained, and Sarah was still too little to feed herself. You hadn’t minded, his deep southern drawl doing something to you even over the phone, such that you found yourself cancelling plans just to go and sit on his couch that very evening, textbook over your knees.

Some nights with Sarah tucked up fast asleep you’d stand and stare at the pictures of the two of them, her holding up a soccer trophy nearly twice her size, him standing with his hand in his pocket, his other over the shoulders of a younger man you assumed was Tommy. If you were feeling particularly bold, or were procrastinating especially hard, you’d extend a finger and run them up and down the strings of Joel’s guitar, resting sentinel against the windowsill. You imagined his fingers pushing into the fretboard, the strings indenting the flesh.

It wasn’t even that he was handsome, although he definitely was. He was a young father, doing it almost entirely alone, and on any other man that would have made for grumpy, for overly tired, for entitled. On Mr Miller it made for kindness, for a nurturing type of strength, corded tight under his skin. For a single dad always thinking about his daughter, only ever wanting the best for her. For a man focussed on doing right for his family, small as it was.

You rolled your shoulders, the pre-frontal cortex just about beating you for the night. Just as you were wondering if the Millers kept any ice cream in the freezer, you heard the key in the front door. You listened as Joel followed the same routine, first toeing off his boots, letting out a little grunt as the second one hit the floor. You heard him huff as he stretched his back, rolling his hips in a little circle to try and get some stretch into them, before dropping his keys on the table and padding, surprisingly light on his socked feet, into the kitchen.

‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said, his pet name for you emerging on only the second time you’d sat for him and still, even after this many months, causing your stomach to do a little flipper.

‘Evening, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he tutted at you, moving over to the fridge and extracting a beer.

‘Told ya not to call me that,’ he muttered, but you could see the grin behind it. ‘How was my girl tonight?’

‘Perfect, as always,’ you said, smiling at him as he poured you a glass of sweet tea from the jug in the fridge without bothering to ask if you wanted any. You accepted it gratefully, suddenly noticing how dry your throat had become.

‘She’s a good kid,’ he said. He sat down, heavy, in the chair opposite you. The ceiling lamp buzzed above you both, and the light bounced off the fine sheen of sweat accumulating on his arms, on his cheeks. He glowed, even if it was under a layer of exhaustion.

‘You look tired, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he cocked a little grin.

‘You sayin’ I look like shit, Sweetheart?’ he asked.

‘No, never,’ you said, instantly regretting how quickly, how fervently, you had responded. He continued to grin at you, lopsided, the dimple on his right cheek popping out to greet you.

‘What is it tonight?’ he asked, and you held up your book to him. ‘The bio-mech-an-ics-of-thought: phys-ee-ol-o-gee of the brain,’ he intoned, before letting out a low whistle. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ he said.

‘It’s interesting,’ you defended, unsure why. ‘So long as there are diagrams,’ you added.

‘So that’s where the magic happens?’ he asked, gesturing to the illustrated image of the brain in the centre of the page you had been working from.

‘This is where thought happens,’ you nodded. ‘Kind of like…where decisions are made.’

‘Must be a woman’s brain,’ Joel deadpanned, taking a swig of his beer. ‘Can guarantee men make their decisions someplace else.’

You caught a glimpse of something dark in his eyes as he glanced over you. You blushed, swearing it was just the heat, and furious with yourself. This wasn’t like you; you weren’t some shrinking violet type. You’d had boyfriends, you’d had fun in college. You had no idea what it was about Mr Miller that made you immediately go all giggly, all girly, but whatever it was you wished it would fuck off.

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You were used to this from him, the way his mind seemed to drift, the way he seemed content enough to let it. Gently, so as not to jolt him out of his thoughts, you closed your book, gathered your pens together. Everything tucked away in your bag you were surprised when you looked up to see he was watching you.

‘Apparently Sarah’s taken an interest in science,’ he said after a moment, his warm eyes watching yours for a second. You felt a tingle of pride in your chest.

‘Oh yeah?’ you asked.

‘Mmhmm, apparently after she pushed Simon Strzelecki off the monkey bars, she offered to patch him up again.’

You grinned before you were able to catch yourself.

‘That’s…very, umm…’ you trailed off and he huffed out a little laugh.

‘It’s very Sarah,’ he agreed.

‘M’sorry, Mr Miller…’ you started, but Joel stood up, waving you off.

‘Don’t be, Strzelecki’s a little shit’f the highest order,’ he said. ‘You gonna let me give ya a lift this time?’ he asked, and this time you shook your head at him.

‘No, I can walk it.’

‘Y’know I don’t like ya walkin’ around out there on yer’own,’ he grumbled, and you felt the insane urge to reach your hand out to rest on his bicep, to ease his evident discomfort.

‘I can handle it,’ you said, instead.

Something stole over his face for a moment, a sharpness in his eyes. For a moment you gazed up at him, the furrow in his brow deepening, the muscles in his jaw twitching as his eyes roamed over your face. Standing this close to him you were reminded how tall, how broad he really was. You dropped your eyes to his arms, crossed over his chest, and imagined him holding you with them, circling them around your back as you leant, safe, into his skin. You blinked yourself back to reality, worried for a second he could read your thoughts.

‘Know you can handle it,’ he said, his voice low, ‘just don’t like it, is all.’

You did this every time, this stand-off. You worried one night you would waver.

‘G’night, Mr Miller,’ you said, over dry lips. He nodded, once, at you, still evidently displeased something dark, something haunted, passing over his features before he brought them back into line.

He stood on the front porch, light still on, until you rounded his driveway and disappeared past the oak tree by the front lawn.

--

Mick was a guy from your Tuesday morning bio class, and you only realised he was your boyfriend when he introduced you to a few of his friends that way. You’d just gone with it, because it had seemed easier, and he was nice if a little full of himself at times. He was the son of the one the big ranching families, had been almost guaranteed a position at whatever college he chose on the day of his birth, hadn’t ever really considered that money was something you saved, something you worked for.

But he would never let you pay for dinner, and often he showed up to class holding a coffee just for you. You’d been on your own for a long time, had been self-sufficient well before you had any business to, and it was kind of nice to let yourself be cared for, if that’s what this was.

On nights when you had to work he would pout and complain, and you told yourself it was because he cared about you, because he wanted you around, even if some part of you knew he just didn’t like to be alone. Every once and while he would ask if he could come with you, ‘feel you up on the couch like it’s eighth grade’, and it made you feel exactly fourteen years old, like this was a summer job you had failed to grow out of. It didn’t help that he more than once referred to your sitting job as ‘cute’. His mother had stayed at home the moment she fell pregnant with Mick’s older brother, and as far as you could tell was yet to leave. You never asked about a future with Mick, terrified of what kind of picture he would paint.

On one such evening, after he’d been particularly insistent that you blow off your job and come and hang out with him and his friends, he’d starting blowing up your phone just as Mr Miller sat down beside you, weary-boned and sleepy-eyed, at his kitchen table.

You ignored the calls, tried to carry on reading even as Mr Miller arched his brow at your insistently vibrating device. You huffed, knowing at some point Mick would get bored.

‘You’re popular tonight?’ Joel prompted after a while, making you lose your place in the paragraph you’d read over at least ten times already.

You huffed out a sigh, reaching out and scrolling through the stream of notifications. He’d started texting, sometimes just sending a single emoji, sometimes entire paragraphs about how badly you were letting him down. You felt an ache bloom behind your right eye socket, and you reached up to your temple to try and massage it away.

‘It’s my boyfriend,’ you told him, and with your eyes still closed you didn’t see him scowl. ‘He wants me to come out to some bar with him and his drunk friends.’

Joel considered this for a long moment. When you opened your eyes they blurred under the sudden light, and you blinked away sleep to see him clearly again.

‘You should be out with your friends, it’s a Friday night…’ he said, almost looking guilty for a moment, and you rushed to reassure him.

‘No, no trust me…this is better. They’re boring when they’re drunk. And also when they’re sober.’

Joel smiled, straining just slightly, at this.

‘He a good man?’ he asked, and you scoffed a little.

‘He’s barely a man at all,’ you said, automatically. Later you’d reflect on this moment, feel it turn you inside out and scold your skin with the heat of your own shame. For now, though, you were too tired, and it was too hot in the kitchen, for you to catch it.

Joel caught it, though. He cleared his throat.

‘We met at college, and he’s…well, he’s kind of set up for life. He doesn’t have to worry about grades, or proving himself. He’s almost guaranteed his residency.’ You were aware you were starting to sound bitter, and maybe you were just a little. Something about Mr Miller, sitting at his kitchen table late in the evening with a beer, muscles wrapped in a plaid, his soft brown eyes watching you carefully, made you think he’d understand.

‘He doesn’t make you feel good enough for him?’ he asked, after a while.

You considered this, eventually shrugging your shoulders. ‘I don’t know if he makes me feel anything,’ you said, truthfully.

Joel leaned forward, elbows on the table, his chin resting in his hand as he watched you, gazed at your face.

‘What do you want him to make you feel?’ he asked.

‘Seen,’ you said, without hesitation.

‘Just seen?’ he asked. His voice was deathly quiet now, almost entirely gravel. His eyes were burning, sharp. You watched as they darkened, stealing your breath out from under you.

‘Desired,’ you almost whispered. He dropped a hand to the table, his fingertips only inches from yours, resting casual on your textbook.

‘What man’s out there runnin’ round this town not desirin’ you?’ he asked, almost as though he couldn’t believe it, and you felt scorching heat on your cheeks, rushing down your sternum, pooling heavy in your core.

You blinked, terrified to move in case you broke whatever spell had befallen him. He turned thoughtful, his eyes dropping to the woodgrain of the table.

‘Y’been working a lot here…can’t imagine hanging out with me and a ten-year-old girl is the same as bein’ out there, living your youth…’

You felt something heavy shift in your belly, something essential curdle and erode.

‘I like it here, Mr Miller,’ you said, all big eyes and almost quivering lower lip. Joel moved away, sitting up straight and peeling the label off his beer.

‘Pretty thing like you, shouldn’t be spendin’ all night waitin’ on us,’ he said, almost to himself. You shook your head again, but he was closing off on you, you could see it in the way his shoulders were folding, the way his mouth was tugging down at the corners.

Without even considering it, operating almost entirely on instinct, you reached your hand out to rest on his bicep. You watched as his eyes drifted close, a long exhale through his nose. He grimaced, almost like you were hurting him, until he lifted his hand and held yours fast to him, wrapping his paw around you.

‘I really love spending time with Sarah,’ you said, just over a whisper, as he stared hard at the table. You could sense he was avoiding your gaze, and you wanted to say something to draw him to you, wanted to give him a little nugget of truth that he could take into himself, hold deep and quiet in his depths. ‘I love spending time with you,’ you said.

He raised his eyes to yours. His hand was so warm over yours, your cheeks so pink in the sleepless heat of the late evening. You saw his eyes fall to your lips and you slipped your hand from under his, reaching up to trace the contours of his jaw with your fingertips.

‘Baby…’ he whispered, ‘I been’ resistin’ you so long, don’t know if I can…’ and you pushed a finger to his lips. You didn’t want him to break whatever spell you were both suddenly under. Didn’t want him to take this from you both, whatever it was turning out to be.

‘Don’t argue,’ you instructed, quietly. With brows saddled, he nodded his head.

And he didn’t argue. Not when you moved your finger from his lips and traced it down over the hollow of his neck, over to his pulse where it thundered under your tough.

Didn’t argue when you leant forward, pressing your nose to his, giving him time to pull away, to move from your lips.

Didn’t argue when you pressed them to his, a little soft and quiet thing, earning you a wanting gasp from him, a prize you would hold in the cavity of your chest so long as your heart stayed beating.

Later, when you had gathered yourselves, when he had gazed at you and you had felt the want in him mixing with the regret, with the necessity of the un-having corrupting the want to take and take and take, you had simply gathered your books, tucking them quiet and neat into the bag at your feet. He didn’t argue with you about driving you home that night, suddenly quiet in a way that set your teeth on edge, and you felt an ache in your belly you couldn’t account for when he closed the door. You waited behind the trunk of the tree at the end of his driveway, counting the minutes he left the light on for you after you’d slipped from view, giving up when you got past 15.

--

You were unsettled. Joel hadn’t called for two weeks, and you were starting to worry that you’d ruined things, your silly little kiss bubbling corrosive at the base of your spine. You couldn’t help going over the whole evening again and again in your head.

You should have told him you preferred spending the nights at his house, that the way it smelt like play-dough and sometimes sawdust, sometimes pine, was so unique to the both of them that you felt your nerves settle the moment you stepped over the threshold. That the house was warm and quiet, that you could spread out your books and something essential to you, that in this space with them you felt more yourself than anywhere else on the planet, even locked away in your little studio apartment, even just you and your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You wanted to tell him Sarah was funny, and smart, and kind, and being around her made you nostalgic for the childhood you never had but ached for, that you felt all that time with her she was giving you something precious and absent, something simple and something sweet. That there were nights you weren’t sure who was sitting who.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t expect anything from him, that it didn’t matter to you if nothing ever happened, if he regretted letting you kiss him, if it had just been that it was too awkward in the moment to say no. Just that you wanted to keep sitting for him, just that if all you got was a casual conversation at the end of the evening and an argument about driving home that would be enough for you, because it would have to be, and so you could make it so.

You begged off seeing Mick for the second Friday night in a row, wanting to be available in case Joel called. You felt silly but you could use the cash. Your textbooks were $400 a piece, and next semester you were taking three classes. Just feeding yourself was enough to stop your studies in their tracks.

Two things happened in the span of ten minutes. A knock at your door stirred you from your lecture notes, and your phone rang. By the time you had it in your hand you were holding Mick back from your face, your palm to his chest, as you craned your neck away from him to speak.

‘M’sorry, Sweetheart, it’s just…I know, it’s a Friday…’

‘It’s fine, Mr Miller,’ you said, ignoring the way Mick was making smoochy faces over your shoulder. ‘I don’t have any plans.’

When you got off the phone Mick was pouting again, and you sighed.

‘I thought I was your plans?’ he said, and you shrugged at him.

‘It’s good money for easy work, babe,’ you said, the nickname sitting heavy on your tongue.

‘I can give you money,’ he said, pulling you towards him by your belt loops and nipping at your jaw. You cringed away from him.

‘That would make me your whore, right?’ you said, and he grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

‘Never seemed to bother you before…’ he said, and you bristled against him.

‘The fuck does that mean?’

“Oh, fuck me, babe, make me yours…” he imitated, his voice high in a general approximation of yours. You blushed, furiously. ‘You think good girls beg like little whores?’ he asked, and you knew he was kidding around, knew that he wasn’t smart enough to do it without outright insulting you, knew that you’d put up with this shit before so there was no reason why he wouldn’t assume he couldn’t get away with it now. You knew the way he spoke to you was basically your fault, and you couldn’t yell at him now that the precedent had been set. You felt yourself crumple, landing with a thump on the edge of your bed.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ he was saying, grinning at you like he’d won his prize. ‘You put the kid to bed, and I’ll come by and keep you happy ‘til Dad gets home.’

You hated the idea, the thought of Mick in that space you’d almost come to think of sacred making your stomach churn.

‘No,’ you said, and you watched as he arched his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You can’t come in…’

‘Say no more,’ he said, grinning again, and for whatever reason, you didn’t.

--

He arrived, just after 9 PM, already drunk. You winced as he parked his car in the driveway, right in Mr Miller’s spot, worried for a moment he was going to swipe the mailbox when he took the angle too fast. He skidded to a stop mere inches from Mr Miller’s garage door and you exhaled, realising you were bracing for the sound of splintering wood. He ambled over to where you stood on the front porch, tugging at your shirt sleeves in the cool night air.

‘Babe!’ he called, and you shushed him almost instantly. He was carrying a sixpack of beers, three of them already gone. His breath reeked and you wrinkled up your nose when he slung his arm over the back of your neck and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

‘This feels like high school,’ he said, and giggled.

‘This is my job, y’know,’ you corrected him, but he wasn’t hearing you, backing you up against the side of the house. You thumped into the brick, wind temporarily knocked from your lungs before he was on you, slipping his entire tongue into your ear in a way that made your skin crawl.

‘Easy…’ you said, and he ignored you, his hand not holding the beers rising up to paw at your breast over your shirt.

‘Mmm…such a tasty little slut,’ he said, and you closed your eyes. ‘Little naughty baby-sitter.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ you stage-whispered, not sure how well your voices wouldn’t carry over the breeze in Mr Miller’s cul-de-sac. He leant down, resting the beers on the front porch so that he could grope you with both hands.

He groaned as he rubbed his cock at your clothed centre. You moved your face to the side, letting your eyes slide closed again.

You tried to think of a romantic movie. Tried to remember some of the fragments of the romance novels your mother had kept stowed under the bed and that you snuck into the den to read to your giggling friends. Tried to imagine a different man, a stranger’s hands on your chest, a stranger’s fingers pinching at your nipples. Tried to imagine what it would feel like if they found the sweet spot, if they sent electric shocks into your belly, into your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the sound of Mick’s heavy breathing out of your mind, focusing instead on rough and calloused fingers, the scruff of a beard teasing along your skin. Heavy accent and sweet pine, a groaned little ‘Sweetheart…’ as he slipped your shirt up over your shoulders.

‘The fuck’s going on here?’ you heard a gruff voice as your eyes sprang open, pushing Mick from you hard enough that he stumbled, backwards, landing on the grass.

‘Mr Miller!’ you exclaimed, shame burning bright on your cheeks as you righted your clothes. ‘M’so sorry, he just dropped by…’ you started but Joel was striding up his driveway, as you realised with a new flash of guilt he’d had to park on the street.

‘Hey, man…’ Mick was saying, his hands up in front of his face. ‘Just checkin’ in on my girl…’

You cringed, this particular pet name always feeling more like ownership when it came from him.

Joel looked up at you, his brows saddled. ‘You OK, Sweetheart?’ he asked you, and you realised for the first time he wasn’t angry but concerned, his fists balled up like he was ready to spring to your defence.

‘It’s Mick,’ you explained, glancing down at him as he tried to climb to his feet, getting as far as his knees and settling there for a second to plan his next move. ‘He…he wanted to…’

‘Yeah, I saw what he wanted to,’ Joel huffed out, reaching down to pull Mick upright by the back of his shirt. ‘Saw the way you were bracing away from it too,’ he said, looking directly into Mick’s grinning face.

‘What else you see, old man?’ he asked, and Joel dropped him back onto his knees.

‘You got your keys?’ he asked him, and waiting for the younger man to root around in his pockets.

‘Don’t steal my ride,’ he said, handing them over and not noticing when Joel slipped them into his pocket.

‘M’going inside, and I’m gonna call you a taxi, and you’re getting in. She can drive your car back to you tomorrow mornin’…if she doesn’t decide to drive it off a cliff,’ he said, abandoning Mick on the front lawn and coming towards you, grabbing your wrist gentle but firm in his hand and pulling you inside. ‘C’mon, darlin’,’ he said, and you followed, almost entirely on autopilot.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Miller,’ you started but he waved you away, placing a call for the taxi while keeping you fixed in your spot with his glare. When he was done, he rolled his shoulders, sighing.

‘You sit,’ he said, striding into the kitchen and emerging moments later with two glasses of sweet tea. You realised, as you lifted your hands to take your glass from him, that you were shivering.

‘I didn’t know he was going to do that,’ you said, and Joel shook his head. You felt the waves of disappointment rolling off him and you worried for a moment you might cry.

‘He always touch ya like that?’ he asked, palming at the back of his neck.

‘Like what?’ you asked, your cheeks burning again.

‘All…clumsy and…disrespectful,’ he said, quiet. He stared at the floor between you while you perched on the edge of the couch.

‘Well…’ you started, but you weren’t sure how you wanted to finish that sentence. Sometimes he doesn’t even bother to touch me at all, you thought.

Joel scoffed, his jaw squeezed tight. ‘Guys like that are all the same, Sweetheart, just…selfish. Even in the bedroom. No lady should be touched like she’s a piece of meat.’

You considered, for one crazy moment, if Joel wasn’t so much disappointed in you as he was in Mick’s prowess. Suddenly you had to stifle a giggle.

‘What’s so funny?’ Joel asked you, surprised.  

‘Just…I mean, they all go to such fancy schools, get all that college for basically free…’ you started, trailing off when you saw him starting to smile. ‘He can’t even boil an egg, and I don’t mean mine,’ you said, and he laughed then, free and loud, and the sound of it made a little fizzle of joy spark up your spine.

This was fun, you realised, shitting on your terrible boyfriend with the most handsome single Dad you’d ever laid your eyes on. This was really, really fun.

‘So, I take it he don’t make you breakfast in the mornin’,’ Joel joked, and you snorted. ‘What you eat for breakfast, anyway?’ he asked, turning to you now, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You swallowed. ‘No, wait,’ he said, ‘let me guess.’ He pretended to look you up and down, his brow arching as he considered. ‘You’re not a waffles kinda girl,’ he said, thoughtfully. You grinned and shook your head. You’d never liked the sponginess. ‘But you’re too fun for plain old oatmeal,’ he said, and you felt a blush crawling across your chest. ‘You’re a pancake princess,’ he decided, finally. ‘Am I right?’

You pretended to consider it for a second before nodding happily at him. ‘Maple syrup and berries,’ you agreed.

‘Maple syrup and berries,’ he said, grinning in his victory. He paused, something passing between you. Suddenly he shifted forward, his knees just barely brushing yours. You found yourself mirroring him, leaning in enough that you had to put your hand out to steady you, landing it on the cushion only inches from his thigh. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek when he whispered in your ear, ‘tart…but a little bit of sweet for m’sweetheart.’

You felt heat scorch its way up your chest, reduced to kindling beside him.

‘Bet he don’t kiss ya like ya should be,’ he said, and you thought for a second of Mick, grinning and drunk out of his mind on the front lawn. You wondered if the taxi had come for him yet, and had absolutely no interest in going out to check on him.

‘Mr Miller…’ you whispered, and he groaned, then, his eyes rolling back in his head.

‘Please, baby, when you call me that…’ he trailed off, eyes blown wide and you felt, then, the thundering in your chest. From this distance you could see his racing pulse in his neck, the same pace as yours.

‘Mr Miller…’ you said, again, staring now at his lips. You wanted to reach out and just take a little nibble.

And he was on you, grasping the back of your head and bringing it down to him, crashing his lips into yours as you gasped, swallowing the echo down into his throat. His tongue, scorching hot, exploring your mouth as he teased it open, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheeks.

‘Thought about you…’ you said, without even thinking, and Joel pulled back a second to appraise you; your swollen lips, your doe-eyes gazing up at him.

‘Say that again,’ he mumbled.

‘When he’d take me, I’d think about you,’ you said, and you watched as his eyes fell shut, taking the moment to glance down at his heaving chest, the aching bulge between his legs. ‘Thought about your hands on me, Mr Miller, about your mouth.’

‘Fuck, Sweetheart…’ he said, almost as if it pained him, before his eyes snapped back open to gaze at you.

‘Kiss me?’ you asked, sweet as you could for him while you tried with both hands to hang on to the moment, to stay here in it with him. You would need to remember this, every corner of the room, every detail. Would spend nights reconstructing his face in your mind, the way he was looking at you now, wanting and red-cheeked, dark eyes and a hot little huff as your words landed their blows on him.

‘Canna touch you, baby?’ he asked, and you were nodding, pulling him towards you as he slid his hands over your waist. Threading your hands through his hair he brought you over him, straddling him on the couch as he stared up at you, brows arching high, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening. You smiled at him, feeling like his prize, as you brought your hips down on him and watched his eyes ease shut, heard his breath stutter. He was big, you could feel it even as the seam of his jeans rubbed at your core. You could feel yourself aching for him, hot and pounding where you ground yourself down.

‘Fuck, Mr Miller…’ you gasped as you felt him push his cock up into you, his hands on your hips and pulling you down.

‘So beautiful, baby,’ he whispered, reaching up with one hand to cup your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers that, even through your shirt, shot lightning bolts to your cunt. You gasped, a high-pitched little sound you were sure you’d never made before, and he soaked it down into his skin, kept it held tight and precious in the core of him, to keep him warm on cold evenings.

You felt yourself shivering, even as his warm fingertips dropped to lift the hem of your tee and trace their way back up to your tits along the skin. His enormous hands almost completely captured it, and you felt small, then, and shy, but when you looked down into his warm, brown eyes you saw only safety there, only naked desire for your pleasure.

You let your hips roll, that building ache in your core. You’d only ever felt this alone, had never had another person bring it out of you, and you felt the sharp edges of it as you felt a shard of panic slice through your gut. No one had ever done this for you, before. You weren’t sure if your body would allow it, weren’t sure if you could let go enough to fall.

‘Hey…’ Joel said beneath you, his eyes roaming your face. ‘Relax, Sweetheart,’ he whispered, reaching his hand from your hip to your jaw, pulling you down to rest your forehead on his. ‘Just you n’me, baby,’ he whispered as you rocked on top of him. ‘You can take what you need,’ he promised. ‘I got you.’

‘Joel!’ you gasped, the shiver in your body now ratcheting up your spine, your thighs burning as you rolled your hips on his lap, his cock still tucked away in his jeans. ‘I don’t know if I…’

‘Sssh…’ he cooed, raising a thumb to your lips and slipping it between your teeth. You sucked instinctually, swirling your tongue over the tip and letting your eyes drift closed. ‘Just feel it, baby,’ he said, ‘don’t force it. Let it grow.’

Never in your life had you felt like this. You took his thumb between your teeth as you ground, the spark of fear in your belly engulfed by the roar of your desire. You could feel your hips stuttering, could hear yourself starting to pant.

‘Good girl…’ Joel encouraged, slipping his thumb from your mouth now and smearing it across your lips. ‘Right here for ya, baby,’ he said. ‘Wantchya to feel so good.’

You cried out, smacking your hand over your mouth to stifle your cries. He was going to kill you, and you would let him again and again, let him bring you back to life just to kill you this way all over again. You had no idea bodies were made to feel this good.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, all the warning you could muster as he grabbed your hips with both hands, slamming his bulge up into you as he pulled you down, the seam of his jeans rubbing hard into your clit. ‘Yes!’ you whispered, your body shuddering as you felt yourself crest, the pleasure roaring from your cunt to your chest, exploding out of your skin as you rolled, roiled, boiled on top of Mr Miller.

‘Jesus, there she is…’ he whispered, and you opened your eyes to gaze down at him, your breath still coming in gasps as he watched you, awe and desire on his face. ‘There she is,’ he said again, like a prayer, a benediction.

--

You woke slowly, the dappled light streaming in through the oak tree beside Joel’s window. It took you a moment to orient yourself, to remember that you were in his bed because he’d considered it too late for you to take yourself home, even if you had Mick’s car. Because the pleasure he’d wrung out of you on his couch had left you boneless, because the idea of ripping yourself from his smell, from his heat, was unthinkable in that moment.

You stretched, noting that the other side of the bed remained made, that he had spent the night on the couch. You remembered that you had wanted to ask him to stay, that the words had formed on your lips, and that in that moment you saw the regret on his face, the longing to tuck himself in beside you and pull you into his chest, let the weight of the night take him and you with him, but that he wouldn’t allow it, that he was holding back. You weren’t sure why, but you assumed out of decency, out of respect. Out of some vague employee-boss professionalism you would both cling to in an attempt to paper over the grasping maw of desire opening up between you.

You had wanted him, and you had denied him, allowed him to deny you. You rolled to your back in a frustrated huff, surrounded by the scent of him, of his cologne and the scent of his skin imbued in the sheets beneath you.

After a while you heard noises in the kitchen and you left your cocoon, pulling your clothes on and padding down the stairs constructing a cover story for Sarah as to why you were still there. When you rounded the corner, though, you saw only Joel –in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, standing at the stove.

‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said casually, as if you hadn’t come on his lap less than twelve hours before, ‘Sarah’s headed off to soccer practice, so you and me’ll have to take care of all these.’

He gestured over his shoulder to the kitchen table, where a stack of cooling pancakes stood proud. You felt a shiver of shock run though you at the sight of them, turning to Joel with the curl of tears tickling the back of your eyes. ‘No berries, sorry darlin’,’ he said, without looking up. ‘But we got enough syrup to make it up to ya, I hope.’

You weren’t sure anyone had ever done anything like this for you. You wanted to sob, wanted to walk over to the table and pick up the pancakes in your fists and mash them into your skin, wanted to drown them in syrup and eat until your belly distended, wanted to force feed them into Joel. Instead, you stepped forward, your arms opening all of their own accord, wrapping yourself around his back like a Koala. He huffed out a surprised laugh, growing serious when he turned you in his arms to face him, seeing the gathering tears at your waterline.

‘Hey, what’s this?’ he asked, and you grinned, watery, up at him.

‘No-one has ever…’ you started, catching your words before they spilled too much of the truth. Understanding passed over Joel’s face.

‘Oh, my sweet girl…’ he said, and you glowed for a minute, the words reaching down into your chest and igniting something long extinguished.

He leaned down towards you, pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting gently on yours. You inhaled him, his scent and the sweet smell of the pancakes on the stove, tried to imprint the memory deep in your DNA.

‘What the fuck is this?’ an angry voice sounded from behind you, and you snapped away from Joel, taking several steps back. Mick, still in his same clothes from the night before, stood furious in Joel’s kitchen.

‘The fuck, you let yourself in?’ Joel asked, matching Mick’s anger with his own. ‘This is a private residence, man.’

‘That’s my girlfriend, man,’ Mick spat, his face twisting into an ugly mask you weren’t sure you’d ever noticed on him before. ‘The fuck you doing feeling her up? You stealin’ my car and my girl?’

‘Mick…’ you started but he was ignoring you, advancing on Joel. You stepped towards him, hands up to placate, but Joel was suddenly beside you, tucking you behind him and shielding you with his broad chest.

‘Back up, buddy,’ Joel said, a whispered warning.

‘Me, back up?’ Mick seethed, about to go on before Joel interrupted him.

‘Yeah, you back up. You need to sit your arse down and learn yourself somethin’,’ he said, advancing on Mick so that the younger man took several steps backwards, heading towards the kitchen table. You wondered if anyone had ever actually stood up to him, if usually his wealth was enough to make people cower. He backed into a kitchen chair, slamming down into it with a thud as he stared up at Joel, the older man red faced and pointing a finger at his chest. ‘You think that little display last night was any way to treat a woman?’ he grit out. You watched as Mick shook his head no. ‘You think she enjoyed that, being pawed at in the dark like a fuckin’ street walker?’ he asked.

‘She looked pretty whorish a few seconds ago,’ Mick responded, petulant and stupid. You could see by the way Joel braced his shoulders, his back expanding in resplendent fury, that Mick had made the wrong fucking choice.

‘Ya little shit,’ Joel said, stepping back from Mick and towards you. He held his arm to you, beckoning you into his chest and you went to him, tucking yourself against his side.

‘You have a woman like this, you fuckin’ cherish her,’ Joel muttered, tracing his fingertips along your side and making you shiver. ‘Look at these pretty little tits,’ he said, moving to cup them as you blushed, tucking your face into his neck. You heard Mick’s sharp intake of breath, mirroring your own as Joel rolled your nipples through your shirt. ‘The way you were grabbin’ at ‘em last night, you think that felt good? You make her groan like this?’ he asked, applying just the right amount of pressure on the sensitive nubs, eliciting a moan from you, unbidden.

‘Listen, man, this is…’ Mick started but Joel cut him off with just a look, stern and disapproving, before his face shifted back to adoration when he turned to you.

‘Let’s show him, baby?’ he asked, his brows saddled high. You knew you were safe with him, that at any moment you could call it off, but you wanted this. You wanted Mick to see what Joel could do to you, the sounds you could make. Wanted him to feel small and insignificant in the presence of a real man, of real pleasure. Wanting him to see what money couldn’t buy.

You nodded your head at Joel and watched as the grin bloomed over his face. ‘M’good girl,’ he said, quiet enough that only you could hear it, and you felt the bolt of want shoot down into your core. Your cunt already aching, already dripping for him.

‘Show me where,’ he said, stepping back as you surveyed the space. You nodded towards the kitchen island, the bench just above your hip height. Joel nodded, lifting you up easily to perch on the edge, your body facing Mick as he sat, frozen, at the table in front of you.

‘Slip these off, baby,’ Joel said, tugging at your sweatpants and you lifted your hips as he slipped them, your panties along with them, out from underneath you. The granite countertop cold on the top of your thighs you revelled in the sensation of it, the hard, cold surface so different to Joel’s hot body as he hovered at your side.

‘Show him,’ he said, tapping you on the knee. You spread your legs, hooking one thigh over the edge of the counter and the other widening out to your side, your cunt unfolding before the two men in front of you. You watched as Mick’s face turned pink, sweat appearing on his brow. You turned to look at Joel, the hunger in his eyes as he devoured every inch of your skin. He reached over, running his fingertips over the inside of your thigh, moving closer to you, leaning over your body to whisper into your ear.

‘You’re dripping onto my countertop, baby,’ he said, and you could hear the glee in it, the wanting.

‘For you, Joel,’ you clarified. ‘Not him.’

‘Nah, never for him, I reckon,’ Joel agreed, his fingers slipping further towards your slit. You felt totally exposed and wanton, whorish, as Mick had put it, and your cunt was pulsing, aching from the desire of it. You felt like a priceless piece of art admired in a big city museum, like a stripper opening up her legs for hoards of braying men, like a girlfriend letting her disappointing boyfriend know in no uncertain terms he would no longer neglect her. You felt power coursing through your veins and into your cunt, your slick pooling on the top of your thighs as the most beautiful man you had ever seen stood beside you and teased the pleasure from every nerve.

‘Fuck…’ you whimpered as Joel’s fingers landed light and dexterous on your clit, the little bundle of nerves sending the pleasure roaring through your core and into your chest. You bucked your hips, nearly slipping from the countertop, Joel coming forward again to brace you against his chest.

‘God, look how much she wants it,’ Joel said over your head to Mick. ‘Bet you’ve never made her jump like that.’ You opened your eyes, not even having realised they’d closed, to watch Mick swallow hard and heavy. You beamed back at Joel, letting the pride in his face radiate warmth down upon you.

‘So good f’me, so good t’me,’ he said, spreading your lips apart with his fingers and pushing a fingertip inside. You gasped, shock on your face at the intensity of the need for him burning where he touched.

‘Please…’ you whimpered, just wanting more and just wanting him to never stop, just wanting him to reach inside you, to wring the pleasure out of you, to make you come so hard you forgot your own name.

‘Sshh…’ he cooed to you, ‘your boyfriend needs to concentrate so he can learn.’

You emitted a squeal of frustration, bucking your hips on his hand to try and draw him in, earning you only a chuckle from Joel.

‘Ok baby, m’sorry. Just like teasin’ ya,’ he grinned at you, before sliding two fat, rough fingers hard into your cunt.

For a second you lost touch with reality, your head flying back to the ceiling as sensations strong enough to take your breath roared from your cunt. The stretch was delicious, the heel of Joel’s hand rubbing hard at your clit as his fingers reached deep inside you, opening you up for him, your slick gathering in his palm.

‘Look how wet she gets,’ Joel noted, over his shoulder to Mick. ‘Such a shiny little cunt when she’s drippin’ like this. You ever work her up like this?’

You heard Mick grunt, a pleading note of displeasure, and you sighed as Joel started pumping, stoking the fire in your cunt that threatened to eviscerate you and everyone within the vicinity.

‘Joel!’ you gasped, rolling your hips again, trying to shove him deeper into your greedy little cunt as it grasped at him.  

‘Could lick ‘er up, whatchyu reckon?’ Joel asked, already getting down on his knees as you groaned, certain now he was going to send you into the stratosphere. ‘Can I, baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, frantic, unable to form words.

‘Bet she tastes sweet,’ Joel said to Mick, who was inching closer in his chair, peering over Joel’s shoulder as your cunt swallowed his thick fingers. ‘Like watermelon on a hot summer day. You ever taste her, Mick?’ he asked. You watched as the shame bloomed over Mick’s face. Joel scoffed. ‘Course not, ya fuckin piss weak little prick,’ he spat before turning, diving in to lick a fat stripe at your folds, settling in to lap at your clit as his fingers worked you.

You screamed, sucking in huge lung-fulls of breath just to let them keen out of you, your hips slamming shut on Joel’s head as he sucked at you, every nerve ending screaming now as you felt the blooming heat of release.

‘Oh, he’s gonna make me…’ you said to Mick over Joel’s shoulder, watching you with owlish eyes.

‘Don’t talk to him,’ Joel admonished you, pulling your focus down to him as he perched between your legs, ‘you talk to me,’ he said.

‘Sorry, Mr Miller,’ you said, watching as his eyes rolled shut, a shiver passing over his shoulders.

‘Be the death of me…’ he muttered, returning his attentions to your pulsing cunt. You gripped his hair, rolling your hips on his face and rocking into him, chasing the release now gathering at the base of your spine.

‘Jesus…oh, fuck…’ you cried, trying desperately to warn him, your eyes slamming shut only to open in shock as he found new ways to wring the pleasure from you.

Joel worked you up, his tongue never fatiguing, setting up the perfect rhythm to hold you just on the edge. You could feel your sweat pooling on your skin, the heat in your cunt spreading down your legs, the pull of the knot in your belly.

To your utter dismay Joel stopped, lifting his face to address Mick at his shoulder. ‘You ever make her squirm like this?’ he asked, and you cried for him, then, scrabbling to grip his shoulders, his chin, to push him back to your desperate cunt. He laughed, nipping at your fingertips as they passed by. ‘Look at her graspin’ for me. You seein’ this? This is what real pleasure looks like.’

You cracked open an eye, the room spinning around you as you fought to regain control of your limbs. You saw the look of shame embedded deep into Mick’s face now, the sight of it somehow intensifying your pleasure, the building pressure in your cunt.

‘Fuck me,’ you gasped, turning your attention back to Joel, his eyebrows shooting up. ‘Show him how to fuck,’ you groaned, pushing off the countertop and spinning up onto your toes, laying chest down on the granite now hot to the touch from your writhing body on top of it. You spread your legs a little, knowing that your puffy little cunt lips would be revealed to them both, and you heard them both groan, Joel’s chesty moan full of grit, Mick’s high pitched and brimming with regret.

‘Don’t do this, man…’ he pleaded, and you heard Joel’s little scoff.

‘That’s the thing, buddy, the lady always gets what she wants.’

You felt him come to stand behind you, heard the rustle of his sweats as he pulled his cock over the waistband. It took everything in you not to turn and admire it, knowing in that moment you would have plenty of opportunity.

‘Fuck, she’s got me weepin’,’ Joel said, and you heard the unmistakable sound of skin on skin as he wrapped his hand around himself and tugged. ‘Got me harder than a railroad spike, this little cunt…’ he muttered. You whined, swivelling your hips to try and entice him, begging him to move faster as the walls of your cunt fluttered for him. You heard him sigh, a happy little sound. ‘Ok, baby, I’m here,’ he said, running a hand up your spine to hold you gentle and firm at the back of your neck, the head of his cock nudging at your cunt. ‘Gotta be gentle with my sweet little pussy,’ he said to you, leaning over you to place a chaste kiss in the cup of your shoulder blade.

‘Please, let him see it stretch me,’ you said, and you felt Joel shudder, notching himself at your entrance.

‘Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll chain him up in the basement, make him watch me fuck you every day,’ he muttered, pushing gently at first, the tip enough to make you gasp.

He was big, you realised. All of this time working you up he’d been leading to his moment, preparing to tease you open. ‘Oh, shit…’ you gasped as he pushed.

‘You ok, baby?’ he asked, pausing until you nodded, frantic, hands gripping at the edge of the counter for purchase as you pushed back into him, sliding in a few extra inches, as Joel moaned.

You were dimly aware that Mick was moving, coming to stand in front of you, a look of sorrow and unabashed heat on his face.

‘Please, can I?’ he asked, rubbing himself through his pants and you swatted him away.

‘No, fuck you,’ you said, emboldened by Joel’s desire for you, by his cock currently splitting your folds. ‘You never get this pussy again,’ you hissed at him, and you felt a bloom of pride at the look of hurt crossing his face just as Joel cheered from behind you.

‘That’s my beautiful girl!’ he gasped, bringing a finger to your clit and rubbing tight circles into it, making you gasp as you let your head fall, resting on the countertop. ‘So good f’me.’

The burn in your cunt from the way he stretched you abated, the pleasure Joel was giving you from your clit causing more slick to gather, your cunt grasping him again, your walls fluttering as you felt the ache turn to sweet pleasure, to a blooming rapture.

You lost touch with the ground, Joel’s harsh thrusts pushing you further up the counter, completely at his mercy as your legs hung useless beneath you, hands braced against the granite to give him purchase. In this moment, spread out on his cock, your cunt open and dripping for him, the pleasure ripping the words from your brain, gasps racking your throat, you felt completely under Joel’s spell, his touch, his heat. Mind-numb, thoroughly fucked out, gripped in this moment between the build up and the threshold of release.

‘Oh, you’re gonna make me…’ you warned but Joel had you, was there already with you.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he grunted between thrusts. ‘Can feel it, can feel that sweet little cunt grippin’ me.’

You cried out, nodding your head furiously, entirely at his mercy now. ‘Yes, yes…Joel, it’s gonna…’

‘Let it go, baby,’ he moaned, and you felt none of the panic, none of the terror at your impending release, wrapped up safe in Joel’s body, in his groans of rapture, in the pull of the knot as it threatened to snap entirely.  

‘Watch me make her come,’ he spat out over your head, and you were only dimly aware of what he was saying as your release sped towards you.

You writhed, your breath stolen from you by the roar of the wildfire across your chest. The push of your orgasm slipping you under, crashing your body into the shore, rolling and quaking underneath it as indescribable lust coursed through your veins.

‘Oh, fuck, there she goes,’ Joel spluttered, his hips stuttering as he started to deepen his thrusts. ‘Gonna fill up ya girl,’ he grit out, his final movements sloppy and desperate as he approached the edge.

‘Do it, baby,’ you whimpered beneath him, words finally able to escape the cage of your throat. ‘Need you.’

He did, then, his come exploding into you and washing you clean, cleansing you of Mick, of all your disappointments, of all your fears. You looked back over your shoulder at him as he crested, his eyebrows saddled and his eyes trained on you, a look of reverence and hunger, of sweet shock, as though he couldn’t believe how good it felt either, as if everything for him was also slotting into place, as if he knew in this moment he would never let anyone separate you, would never let anyone take you from his side, that in his moment you were his just as much as he was yours, that this was a forging of something solid and essential, something vital and something precious, something that was just for you.

--

You didn’t remember Mick leaving. Didn’t care to say goodbye.

Joel had peeled you off the counter and carried you upstairs, drawn you a bath and lowered you gently into the water, sat beside you and washed your body as you lulled in and out of a light sleep.

Drying you off he wrapped you up in his clothes, swamping you in cotton and his scent, before promising to make you a fresh batch of pancakes. You hadn’t let him, whimpering when he tried to leave your side, pulling him down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you.

Later you would figure out lunch, and then Sarah, and then the rest of your lives. For now, you had each other, and cool sheets, and the light patter of rain as a welcome cool breeze blew new life over the garden beneath Joel’s window.

[omgsuperstarg]

Market Day- Toto Wolff x Black! Caribbean Reader

Author's Note: This one shot is based on another function of Caribbean Life. Going to the Market or Farmer's Market to get fresh food for the household is a normal occurrence and Toto decides to tag along with you and assist.

Saturday mornings are usually a staple of your household. That's the day when you head down to the local farmer's market and pick up the much-needed fruits, produce (ground provisions), & seasoning herbs for the meats and fish. Today, you wake at the crack of dawn to get ready. Toto was fast asleep during the summer shutdown taking the much-needed rest from flying for weeks at a time. This is usually a solo trip, so going out and returning in record times is an art form for you.

All that you needed was in your car, you proceed to leave a note so that he knew your whereabouts and with that, you're off for another fruitful Saturday morning.

Mini time skip..........

You're already halfway through your list when your phone begins ringing.

Hello

"Good Morning darling, I see you've left me all alone", your love speaks playfully.

"Morning to you as well Toto. I decided to let you sleep in because GOD KNOWS you need it and market trips have always been a solo task for me. Plus, I'm getting all the ingredients for SOUP SATURDAY!!", you state matter of factly.

"So where are you?", you inquire.

Turn around.

What!?!?", your voice

In doing what's instructed, you observe your boyfriend in some dry-fit shorts, a t-shirt with silver arrow logos, and some aviator shades with sneakers completing his relaxed outfit. Knowing Toto he always wore the love for his team on his sleeve in both figurative and literal senses. He jogs up to you with a bright smile on his face, one that you've come to love in your three years together.

"Im surprised to see you here, I thought you would be sleeping in since Saturdays' are usually my day", you profess as you hand him one of your market bags.

"Well, I couldn't let my darling do her shopping unaccompanied. Not only that it's a perfect way to catch up and spoil yourself with the florals you admire soo much", the statuesque man states with his accented speech seeping into your bones.

"Well, there's still a few more things that need to be purchased and since I already have meat seasoned for cooking, I say when we arrive home I can make us some soup. Judging the clouds it's going to be a heavy rain shower." you speak observing the bleak sky.

"Ahhh yes, soup is always comforting on a rainy day," he says smiling.

A fruitful trip was completed, you both were now home and cutting up vegetables for a hearty lunch. Dancehall and Soca music is blasting throughout the kitchen which is typical of a Saturday Morning. Toto observes you dancing along to the music and even finds himself nodding along to its infectious beat.

"So its always this noisy when you're back home?", he inquires as he sits near the granite countertop.

"Yes, this is a pretty normal vibe for a Caribbean household. Sometimes I would do my Saturday chores on a Friday so I wouldn't have to and the second Saturday or whenever the funds arrive would be market day. After coming home, I would assist my grandma in making soup, my favorite is Chicken foot and I would add ramen noodles to it as well. Early afternoon we would either bake homemade bread or coconut bake'', you profess wistfully as you think of your island home.

"I think that's quite sweet and I'm glad that you're able to share this part of your life with me,'' he confessed.

"I hope I can drag your butt for Trinidad & Tobago Carnival, get some seasoning in you as well as a little more colour, the fangirls I know would appreciate it, me being a major one," you say as you shut the stove off and begin to distribute the food.

The rain finally came down as you both began to eat, the warmness of the soup filling your soul, and the man sharing his love making you feel even more cozy.

[scarlettlillies]

Hetalia - Yesterday (Nyo!DenEst)

A very belated submission for APH Estonia Week. Prompts used were Yesterday and Beach.

This fic was only supposed to be a brief 500-word ficlet. It turned into a 1.4K fic of Nyo!Denmark being a hopeless romantic. I've missed writing them so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had fun writing it. <3

If you prefer to read this on Ao3, please click the link here.

Summary: It was the final day of their brief holiday in Hiiumaa. Even though Estonia assures her that they will be back again soon, it's not enough. Denmark was tired of going home alone.

----

The smell of coffee and waffles lured Denmark from the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Estonia’s index finger tapped against the granite countertop as she patiently waited for the final set of waffles to finish. One plate had already been completed and it had been left on the island counter behind her. Next to the plate was a cutting board with fresh strawberries, straight from her garden, that had already been sliced up in half. To the left side of the cutting board, there was a bottle of syrup, a cinnamon shaker, an open container of blueberries, and a stick of butter. The sound of a documentary on barn swallows could be faintly heard on the television in the living room.

Denmark used the moment to sneak up behind her and wrap her arms around Estonia’s waist. A loud yelp quickly turned into nervous laughter as Denmark pulled their bodies close and she nuzzled her face into Estonia’s neck. In comparison to Denmark, Estonia was already dressed for the day. She looked so cute dressed in a solid-coloured royal blue dress with a cropped black cardigan. Not a single strand of hair on her short bob haircut was out of place. She could faintly smell the lilac body spray off of Estonia’s skin. It was the same kind Denmark gave her as a birthday present a few months earlier.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry,” she replied as she slipped in a quick kiss on Estonia’s cheek. Denmark could feel her lover’s tensions wash away as Estonia’s head fell back and onto Denmark’s left shoulder. Though the two women were close in height, Estonia was just a tad taller than her by only an inch or two.

“Did you sleep well?” Estonia asked.

“Always do. But why didn’t ya wake me earlier? I could have helped with breakfast.”

“I wanted to surprise you. Besides, I don’t think you would have appreciated me waking you up at six.”

Denmark groaned, “C’mon! We’re on vacation. There’s no need to get up that early.”

“Sorry but you know I’m an early bird! Six is the best time to be up.”

A loud buzzing noise interrupted the conversation. The waffles were finally finished.

Denmark was a tad disappointed to have Estonia break away from their quick embrace. But a surprise peck on her lips caught her off-guard. It was so unusual for Estonia to be this affectionate that it left her cheeks red and her head on cloud nine.

“I shouldn’t be much longer. Why don’t you get dressed? You must be cold with just a t-shirt and underwear on.”

She wasn’t wrong. Denmark was a little chilly. After all, she had just rolled out of bed the moment she caught the smell of Estonia’s cooking. Collecting herself, Denmark did as she was told, but not without stealing a blueberry from the open container while Estonia’s back was turned. Her eye caught the clock on the way out of the kitchen and noted that it was just after eight-thirty.

Denmark took no more than five minutes to get herself ready, wearing a simple red zip-up hoodie and matching red athletic shorts. She brushed up her pixie cut but skipped the makeup. She returned to the kitchen to see breakfast and coffee had been all laid out. Estonia was already seated across from her, enjoying a quick sip of her coffee. The smell of the cinnamon and the syrup made Denmark’s mouth water. She couldn’t wait to dig in.

Sunlight greeted the two women through white sheer curtains—a fitting end to their vacation. They mulled over their time in Hiiumaa. Estonia owned a vacation home on the island and they had been eagerly preparing their return here since the previous summer. Rain unfortunately put a damper on the majority of the vacation. But they made do with what they had. They hardly get to spend time together alone as a couple so a simple date night with dinner and a movie was all they needed to reconnect.

But yesterday had been perfect. Throughout the conversation, Denmark caught herself daydreaming about their time on the beach. She loved how perfect the warm sand felt between her feet. They rented out a small boat that fit just the two of them and rowed along a small portion of the coastline, with Estonia serving as her personal tour guide. Later in the evening, they swapped their swimwear for casual summer dresses to have a date night at a nearby restaurant. The staff knew Estonia well and were given the best seats they could offer—far enough that the two could have a private night to themselves, but close enough that they could still enjoy the local bands perform on stage. They stayed until the doors closed at midnight and they walked home hand-in-hand under skies where the sun never truly sets.

If only every day could be like yesterday.

“I know we have to head back to Tallinn today but is there enough time for one more walk on the beach?”

“I don’t see why not,” Estonia replied as she finished off the last few sips of her coffee. “We don’t have to board the ship until noon so we have plenty of time. It won’t be as warm as it was yesterday though.”

“That’s okay. I have you to keep me warm!”

Denmark was grinning from ear to ear and all Estonia could do was roll her eyes.

“Aw c’mon. I thought that was a good line.”

It really wasn’t. But she would never admit that she liked Denmark’s cheesy lines. The novelty would wear off quickly if she were allowed to slip them into every conversation.

Denmark hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she noticed Estonia still had half a waffle left and some fruit scattered around the plate. Their conversation had gone cold but neither seemed to mind. Estonia loved the peace and quiet. Denmark, meanwhile, was fixated on the scenery outside. Through the curtains, she could see the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. She shut her eyes and let her mind take her back to the beach once again. The two of them were alone and walking across the soft sand, wearing the same outfits as they were now. Before she knew it, Estonia slipped from her grasp, removed her white sandals, and made a run towards the sea. She ran far enough for the water to rise above her ankles. She lifted her dress just above her knees and began gliding her left foot across the water. Denmark watched with wonder as excitement built in her chest. Her movements were like a hypnotic dance meant for her eyes only.

Bright blue eyes met Estonia’s aqua-coloured ones. Her smile was enough to make Denmark melt in the sand.

Don’t just stand there! Come join me! The water’s perfect.

The sound of her laughter was music to Denmark’s ears. She dashed towards the sea where Estonia’s hand was reaching out to her, waiting patiently for her touch. At the moment where their hands met, Denmark’s eyes flew open at the sound of her name being called out to her.

“Taani—” She felt Estonia’s arms wrap around her shoulders. For a brief moment, Denmark felt slightly disoriented. She hadn’t expected that daydream to leave such a strong impact on both her mind and her heart.

“You don’t want to go home, do you?”

Coming down from the high, Denmark grabbed a hold of Estonia’s right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The action alone was all Estonia needed as an answer.

“This place is perfect. I wish I could stay here forever—with you.”

“We’ll be here again soon. Before we know it, it will be the end of July and we’ll be back here on vacation again, just like we planned.”

It wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to fly back to her home in the Copenhagen suburbs. She didn’t want to go to work where the paperwork piled high and meetings with leaders took up most of her day. She didn’t want the city life where the mornings and evenings felt empty.

No.

That way of life wasn’t for her. Denmark’s dream life was ripped from the pages of the novels she and Latvia gushed over. She wanted the country life with the big garden, the calm boat rides under the warm sun, the long drives to nowhere with the wind in her hair, and the early mornings and late nights where time stood still just for them.

She was tired of going home alone.

It was an unrealistic dream. But she wished it could be yesterday every day.

[myrontile]

Top-Quality Granite Suppliers in Mississauga

Are you looking for top-quality granite in Mississauga? Walk-in to the Myron Tile And Stone showroom in Mississauga. We are one of the most trusted sellers and installers of granite countertops in Mississauga. Whether you are a homeowner looking to enhance your kitchen or bathroom with stunning granite countertops or a contractor seeking durable granite for commercial applications, we have you covered. All our products are made using premium quality materials and feature unique patterns and attractive colours to accentuate all types of kitchens. Contact us today to explore our impressive range and take the first step towards transforming your space with the timeless beauty of granite.

[fairytalesandimaginings]

They should have more ready made countertops that are just like colours instead of fake-granite. I'm tired of fake granite been a thing since I was in high school (maybe some are real granite but that's not better also expensive).

[rjconstructions]

Why do Villas are high in cost ?

A Villa is a huge private house built on a persons specific needs and requirement’s which boasts a high quality of luxury and architectural designs with a swimming pool multi car parking facilities and huge garden of an individual to have a peaceful time in his house with his family . 

A Villa is built with more quality and more luxurious looking lifestyle house for wealthy peoples .

The exterior of a villas are designed by highly experienced architects to give a look of unique way of styling and it looks like to stand away from the crowd .

Amenities of Villa 

They do have a unique style of swimming pools built .

Some may prefer a rooftop swimming pool .

You will have tennis court to spend your time on some physical activities .

You will have outdoor lodging area .

You will have a garden where if you want to spend some time alone or with your family.

A Villa would be a best place for pet lovers because of its huge amount of space.

A Villa would be a best place for car enthusiast or people who would like to have a garage full of supercars  and luxurious cars.

Some people will build a mini golf course as wealthy peoples have a habit of playing golf.

You will have a huge space for gardening trees and being nature friendly.

Interior of Villa 

When it comes to Villa the interior are what it is make it so spectacular and it answers the question of why the cost of a Villa is high .

Traditional Interior Villas

People who prefer traditional and royal designs chose traditional interior types .

Traditional interior of Villa consists deep rich - earthy colours , oriental rugs, wooden textures, native arts or antiques and family heirlooms are used as a sense of history and tradition.

You can add traditional fabrics and patterns while selecting curtains, pillows, rugs and furniture.Creating artistic walls with wallpapers and murals or texture paint can add depth or interest to your Villas interior design.

You can employ vintage and retro-inspired pieces that are making a comeback in interior design.

Exquisite Luxury Interior Villas

Luxury is all about quality and class.

Luxurious Villa interior design creates a space that exudes elegance , comfort and opulence.

You can choose high-quality materials like marble , granite and exotic woods for flooring , countertops and walls . 

These elements not only look luxurious but also add durability and longevity to your Villa .

To feel luxury you can include smart home technology like automated lighting , temperature control and security systems to enhance the comfort and convenience of your Villa .

You can transform your villa bathroom into a private oasis with heated floors , soaking tubs , rain shower heads and luxury bath products for a spa like experience .

Nature Inspired Interior Villa

Nature-Inspired Villa interior design can create a calming and relaxing atmosphere by bringing the beauty of the outdoors inside . 

By adopting this type of Villa interior design idea , you can introduce some natural elements to a specific section of the Villa or the entire Villa .

It will not only add a touch of nature to your space but also improve indoor air quality and reduce stress levels .

Enhance the appeal of your Villa by adding indoor plants , like hanging plots , to create a lush and inviting fresh environment .

Incorporate water features such as fountains and water-walls would generate a serene and relaxing atmosphere with the sound of running water .

For comfortable and inviting entertaining space in your Villa , install a home theatre with comfortable seating , soundproofing and a large screen .

Add a game room with a sound system with a comfortable seating and consider outdoor entertainment features .

Include mood lighting and invest in a high-quality sound system for a seamless audio experience.

[granite-mart]

Redefining Elegance: The Allure of Azul Eyes and Azul Platino Granite

Granite remains a cornerstone of interior design, admired for its durability and timeless beauty. Among the finest choices, Azul Eyes and Azul Platino granite stand out for their exceptional charm, versatility, and strength. Sourced from Brazil and Spain, respectively, these granites transform interiors into spaces of sophistication and style. Whether you're revamping a kitchen, upgrading a bathroom, or adding luxury to a commercial project, these stones deliver unmatched elegance and practicality.

Azul Eyes Granite: Brazilian Brilliance

Azul Eyes granite captivates with its striking interplay of grey and blue hues, creating an enchanting visual effect. Each slab is uniquely patterned, bringing bespoke charm to any interior. Renowned for its robustness, Azul Eyes is perfect for busy households or commercial settings, offering resistance to scratches, stains, and heat.

Available in 20mm and 30mm thicknesses, Azul Eyes is highly versatile, suited to applications such as kitchen worktops, bathroom vanities, and statement flooring. Its sophisticated tones complement both neutral and bold colour palettes, providing endless design possibilities. Whether you're seeking a focal point or a harmonious accent, Azul Eyes delivers unparalleled elegance.

Azul Platino Granite: Spanish Sophistication

For those drawn to contemporary aesthetics, Azul Platino granite is an exceptional choice. Its blue-grey base, adorned with delicate white veining, exudes understated luxury, making it ideal for modern and minimalist designs.

Like Azul Eyes, Azul Platino is available in 20mm and 30mm thicknesses, enabling its use in countertops, splashbacks, and flooring. Its light-reflective qualities brighten smaller spaces, enhancing the sense of openness and sophistication. Durable and stylish, Azul Platino seamlessly balances function and form, making it a popular choice for kitchens and bathrooms.

Why Choose Azul Eyes or Azul Platino Granite?

Both Azul Eyes and Azul Platino exemplify the enduring appeal of granite. Here’s why they stand out:

Durability: Resistant to scratches, heat, and stains, these stones are ideal for high-traffic areas.

Versatility: Their unique patterns and shades suit various design styles, from classic to contemporary.

Low Maintenance: Proper sealing ensures easy cleaning and long-lasting beauty.

Value Addition: Granite enhances property value, offering timeless luxury and practicality.

Choosing the Perfect Granite for Your Project

The bold, dynamic tones of Azul Eyes suit traditional and modern spaces alike, while Azul Platino’s sleek, subtle elegance is perfect for minimalist or industrial designs. Whether you favour dramatic depth or refined simplicity, these granites can bring your vision to life.

Care Tips for Granite Worktops

Seal Regularly: Protect your granite from stains with periodic sealing.

Use Gentle Cleaners: Opt for pH-balanced solutions to maintain the surface.

Avoid Direct Heat: Use trivets or mats for hot items, despite granite's heat resistance.

Clean Spills Promptly: Prevent potential staining by wiping up spills immediately.

Conclusion

Azul Eyes and Azul Platino granite embody the finest qualities of natural stone, offering enduring beauty, strength, and adaptability. Whether you prefer the bold elegance of Azul Eyes or the refined sophistication of Azul Platino, these stones elevate interiors with their unique charm. Transform your space with the timeless appeal of granite, and enjoy the perfect blend of luxury and functionality for years to come.

[maxspacestonework]

Countertops in Toronto: How to Maximize Space and Style in Small Kitchens

Having a small kitchen can be a real challenge, but with thoughtful design choices, it is possible to maximize the space and make it both functional and stylish. One key element in any kitchen is the countertop. This is not only where you prepare food, but it also affects the look and feel of the entire room. 

Choosing the right countertop material and design in a small kitchen is especially important because it can help create a sense of openness while still offering the functionality you need. When selecting a countertop for a small kitchen, consider practical and visually appealing materials. For example, light-coloured surfaces, like white or light grey, can help make the space feel larger and brighter. Additionally, opting for slim, minimalist designs can keep the area from feeling cluttered. The right countertop can enhance the functionality of your kitchen while also contributing to its overall aesthetic, making it a space that feels welcoming and efficient, no matter how small.

In this post, we will discuss common questions about styling a small kitchen by choosing the perfect countertop for your Toronto home.

Let’s get started.

Countertops in Toronto: Making the Most of Space and Style in a Small Kitchen

Discover how to upgrade your kitchen by selecting the right countertop.

What Are the Best Countertop Materials for Small Kitchens?

Choosing the right countertop material is important for both style and function in a small kitchen. The material you pick affects how the kitchen countertop in your Toronto home looks and how easy it is to use. Here is a list of the best options for small kitchens:

Quartz: This is a popular choice for small kitchens because it is durable, easy to maintain, and comes in many colours. Its non-porous surface resists stains and doesn’t need sealing, which makes quartz a practical option for busy homes. Light-coloured quartz is especially good for small kitchens, as it reflects light and helps make the space feel bigger and brighter.

Granite: This adds unique, natural beauty to a small kitchen. It is very durable and comes in a variety of colours and patterns. Choosing lighter granite can make a small space feel more open. Granite kitchen countertops also give a classic look that can improve the style of the room.

Marble: Marble can add an elegant touch to a small kitchen, but it needs more maintenance than quartz or granite. Marble is a great choice if you want a luxurious look and don’t mind the extra care. However, in a small kitchen, it's best to use marble in specific areas, like a backsplash or accent spot, to keep the space looking clean and not too busy.

How Can I Make the Most of Countertop Space in a Small Kitchen?

Maximizing countertop space in a small kitchen is essential for both convenience and efficiency. Here are some tips to help you use your countertop area effectively:

Use corners wisely: L-shaped or U-shaped countertops in your Toronto home make the most of corner spaces, giving you an extra work surface without using more floor space. This layout helps create an efficient work triangle, which is perfect for small kitchens.

Select a slim profile: A thinner countertop edge can make the surface look less bulky, which is especially helpful in small kitchens. Installing a countertop in your Toronto home that is thin offers a modern look and keeps the space feeling sleek without sacrificing functionality.

Consider a breakfast bar or small island: If there is room, adding a small island or breakfast bar can give you extra prep space and seating. A compact island with storage underneath can add function without taking up too much space. A mobile cart or narrow bar counter can be a flexible and useful option for even smaller kitchens.

What Is the Importance of Countertop Choice in Small Kitchens?

In small kitchens, every inch of space matters. The right countertop material and design can make a big difference in both function and style. Here are a few reasons why your countertop choice is important in a small kitchen:

Space Utilization: Countertops are the main work areas in a kitchen, and in a small space, they need to be efficient and well-designed. The right material and layout can help you maximize the limited space. For example, a seamless countertop without gaps can create a larger, more usable workspace.

Visual Impact: Countertops are the main focus of any Toronto home’s kitchen, and, in a small space, they can make the room feel either cramped or more open. The right material, colour, and texture can make the space feel larger and more stylish. Light colours and simple patterns can help create a sense of openness.

Durability and Maintenance: Small kitchens get a lot of use, so choosing a countertop material that can handle wear and tear and is easy to care for is important. You don’t want a surface that requires too much time or effort to keep clean and in good condition.

Choosing the right countertop for a small kitchen can greatly impact both its look and how well it works. You can turn a small kitchen into a stylish and efficient space by picking the right material, colour, and design. Light colours, slim profiles, and smart layouts are all important for making the most of the countertop in your Toronto home’s kitchen.

[keystonegraniteoh]

Simple Ways to Enhance Your Space with Stone

Stone can totally change the look of a room. It brings a unique, elegant vibe to any space. Whether it’s your kitchen, bathroom, or living room, stone just works. It’s reliable, durable, and always stylish. Let's dive into how stone can elevate your home in simple yet impactful ways.

Why Stone?

Stone is, of course, a timeless, practical and elegant material. It makes your home to appear more classy without having the feel of overdoing the wonderful look. Plus, it’s easy to maintain. Stone whether granite, marble, or quartz is an investment and will upgrade the value of your room. It lasts forever, which means this is a good investment.

Quartz: The Modern Stone Choice

The quartz is getting extremely popular and that has some very nice reasons. As it is engineered, it does not have stain and scratch issues as are found with other products. Quartz is also versatile. Quartz countertop for sale is now so easy to find in the market since there are so many choices that meet the need of consumer wants. Not only does it come in a huge variety of colours and fabrics, but it suits everyone’s sense of style. Gone is the coarse texture characteristic of natural quartz and in its place is a streamlined look that looks like natural stone but does not demand as much attention. It’s non-porous, and this tells you that you don’t need to bother about spills or stains. A couple of minutes rubbing and it is as good as new.

Quartz in Your Kitchen

Your place is the epicentre of the house. So, why not make it gorgeous? Quartz countertop is elegant and strong. It is very durable for hot pots, sharp knives, and almost everything a typical kitchen would subject the Spoon to. The best part? Quartz holds up over time. It will not fade or scratch as easily as other materials one is likely to use when designing a home. If you desire to have a kitchen that is beautiful and functional then quartz is the best thing that can happen to you.

Quartz in Your Bathroom

Stone in the bathroom is a game changer. A quartz vanity gives your bathroom that luxe spa feel. The non-porous surface means it resists water damage, mold, and stains. Quartz won’t absorb moisture like some other materials. It’s also easy to keep clean with just a wipe down. Whether you want a minimalist look or something bolder, quartz has you covered.

Using Stone in Other Spaces

Stone isn’t just for countertops. You can use it all over your home. For example, consider adding a stone accent wall. It’s a simple way to make a bold statement. Whether you use slate, quartz, or marble, a stone wall adds texture and charm to any room. You could even go for stone flooring. It’s timeless and can handle high traffic areas, like entryways or kitchens.

Taking Care of Stone

Stone is pretty easy to care for, but a little attention goes a long way. Quartz is low maintenance. A simple wipe with mild soap and water is enough. Avoid harsh chemicals—they can damage the surface. For granite or marble, you’ll need to seal it once in a while to protect it. This keeps stains away and ensures it looks fresh for years.

Mixing Stone with Other Materials

Stone pairs really well with other materials. It’s a great way to add contrast and balance to your space. For instance, mix stone with wood. This combo creates a warm, inviting vibe. Or, pair it with metal accents for a more modern, industrial feel. Glass can also soften the look of stone. Mixing materials gives your home that layered, designer feel.

Outdoor Stone

Stone isn’t just for inside. It’s great for outdoor spaces too. Have an outdoor kitchen or bar? Stone works beautifully for countertops and surfaces. It can handle the weather, from heat to rain. If you're looking to redo your patio, consider stone flooring. It’s durable and low maintenance. Plus, it’ll add charm to your yard.

Why Choose Quartz?

If you’re looking to update your space, quartz is a smart choice. You’ll find lots of quartz countertops for sale in a variety of styles. Quartz is stylish, durable, and easy to maintain. It gives you that natural stone look without the hassle. Whether you’re redoing your kitchen or bathroom, quartz is a great way to enhance your space.

Choosing the Right Stone for Your Space

When you decide to incorporate stone into your home, it's essential to consider both aesthetics and functionality. Stone materials like quartz offer a wide variety of styles and finishes, from subtle neutrals to bold designs. Whether you're upgrading your kitchen countertops or adding a new feature to your bathroom, the right stone can bring a sense of luxury and timelessness to your space. With its durability and low-maintenance nature, stone is a great option that adds both beauty and practicality to your home.

Final Thoughts

Stone is one of the best materials you can use in your home. Whether it’s quartz countertops, a stone accent wall, or stone flooring, it adds beauty, durability, and style. Stone has a timeless appeal, making it a smart investment for any space. So, if you’re looking to upgrade your home, consider adding stone to your design. Your home will feel more luxurious, and you’ll love the way it looks for years to come.

[stonesealerrepair]

Affordable Pitaya White Granite Countertops Installation and Repair Service

Granite countertops are a timeless choice for enhancing the beauty and functionality of kitchens and bathrooms. Among the many granite varieties available, Pitaya White Granite stands out for its unique blend of white, gray, and soft beige tones, making it a popular choice for both modern and traditional interiors. This article delves into the details of installing and repairing Pitaya White Granite countertops, ensuring you get the best value for your investment.

Why Choose Pitaya White Granite?

Pitaya White Granite is a natural stone with remarkable durability and aesthetic appeal. Here’s why it’s a top choice:

Elegant Aesthetic

The subtle blend of colours in Pitaya White Granite complements a wide range of interior designs. Its neutral palette pairs well with various cabinetry and flooring options, making it a versatile choice.

Durability

Granite is one of the hardest natural stones, resistant to scratches, heat, and stains when properly sealed. Pitaya White Granite, in particular, is known for its robustness, making it ideal for high-traffic areas like kitchens.

Low Maintenance

With regular cleaning and occasional resealing, Pitaya White Granite remains in pristine condition for years.

Increased Home Value

Installing granite countertops, especially a luxurious option like Pitaya White, can boost your home’s resale value, as buyers often seek high-quality finishes.

Installation Process for Pitaya White Granite Countertops

Proper installation is crucial to ensure the longevity and performance of your countertops. Here’s an outline of the process:

Measurement and Planning

Professional installers measure your countertop space to ensure accurate sizing. This step includes planning for sink cutouts, overhangs, and any special edges or designs.

Granite Selection and Cutting

Once you’ve selected your slab of Pitaya White Granite, it is cut and shaped to fit your countertop layout. This step requires precision tools to maintain the integrity of the stone.

Preparation of the Base

The cabinets or base units are leveled and reinforced to support the heavy granite slabs. A strong base ensures the countertops remain stable and secure.

Installation and Sealing

The granite slabs are carefully placed, joined, and secured. Professional installers use high-quality sealants to prevent moisture and stain penetration, extending the lifespan of your countertops.

Affordable Repair Services for Pitaya White Granite Countertops

Even the most durable materials may need occasional repairs. Here are common issues and their solutions:

Chips and Cracks

Granite countertops may develop minor chips or cracks over time. Professional repair services can fill these imperfections using color-matched epoxy or resin, restoring the smooth surface seamlessly.

Stains and Discoloration

If your Pitaya White Granite develops stains, professional cleaners can use specialized solutions to remove them. For severe discoloration, resurfacing may be necessary.

Loose Seams

Over time, the seams between granite slabs might loosen. Re-caulking these seams ensures the countertops remain stable and water-resistant.

Resealing

Granite countertops need to be resealed every 1-2 years to maintain their resistance to moisture and stains. A professional resealing service ensures thorough coverage.

Tips for Maintaining Pitaya White Granite Countertops

Proper care can prevent the need for frequent repairs. Follow these tips to keep your countertops looking brand new:

Clean Regularly:

Use a soft cloth and mild detergent to wipe the surface daily. Avoid abrasive cleaners that can damage the sealant.

Use Cutting Boards: 

Always use a cutting board to prevent scratches from knives or other sharp objects.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals: 

Avoid using acidic or bleach-based cleaners, as they can weaken the sealant.

Wipe Spills Immediately: 

Promptly clean up spills, especially from acidic substances like lemon juice or wine.

Choosing the Right Installation and Repair Service

Finding the right service provider for Pitaya White Granite installation and repair is crucial. Here’s what to look for

Experience: 

Opt for professionals with extensive experience handling granite, especially Pitaya White Granite.

References and Reviews: 

Check reviews and ask for references to gauge the quality of their work.

Warranty: 

Ensure they offer a warranty for both installation and repairs.

Affordability: 

While quality is paramount, compare quotes to find a provider that fits your budget.

Final Thoughts

Pitaya White Granite countertops are an excellent investment for any home, offering elegance, durability, and a touch of luxury. Proper installation and timely repairs are essential to maximise their benefits. By choosing affordable and professional services, you can enjoy the beauty and functionality of Pitaya White Granite for years to come.

Whether you’re planning a new installation or need repair services, always work with experts who understand the unique properties of this stunning granite. With the right care, Pitaya White Granite will continue to enhance your space for decades.

Conclusion

Pitaya White Granite countertops are a beautiful and durable choice that elevates the aesthetics and functionality of any space. Their timeless appeal, low maintenance requirements, and ability to increase property value make them a wise investment.

[legacymarbleandgranite]

Searching for the best Countertops Lima Ohio | Legacymarbleandgranite.com

Avail of the best Countertops Lima Ohio? Legacymarbleandgranite.com understand that selecting the perfect countertop is a significant decision. Our showroom in Lima offers a wide variety of colours and patterns, making it easy to find the ideal match for your decor. Whether you prefer the classic elegance of marble or the durability of granite, we have options that cater to all tastes and preferences. We also offer quartz countertops, which are engineered for strength and versatility, perfect for busy kitchens and bathrooms. Visit our site for more info.

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[myrontile]

As one of the leading granite suppliers in Mississauga, Myron Tile and Stone understands the importance of finding the perfect granite for your project. With a vast selection of high-quality granite options, we cater to the diverse needs of homeowners and contractors. Our knowledgeable team is dedicated to helping you find the ideal granite slab that matches your style and specifications. Whether you're renovating your kitchen countertops or adding a touch of elegance to your bathroom, trust Myron Tile and Stone for top-notch granite products and exceptional customer service. https://myrontile.ca/blog/top-five-granite-colours/