#i think of this postcard often :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

macfrog · 28 days ago

Text

epilogue sex on fire

once more for old time's sake, hm?

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: guess who's getting married - and you're all invited.

warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, a weird bus metaphor. idk where it came from. but it works. enjoy!

word count: 6.9k

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It passes in the blink of an eye.

Letting go of your mom’s hand at the school gates; forgetting when you next reached for it. Dancing around a laptop with an acceptance email from your first-choice college onscreen. Walking into a new job with a broken heart; walking out whole again.

All in the blink of an eye.

Joel says it too, as he scrolls through floorplans.

“…Used to be Tommy’s room, way back when,” he swipes to the next screenshot, “I thought it’d look good if we – we took down this wall, and – you see?”

You nod, twisting the hem of your T-shirt around your finger, and curl a little closer into his chest.

He still smells like the fresh coconut bodywash he stole from your bag. The sweet scent that he lathered up and let spill down your tummy, foamy bubbles slipping over your hips.

Under the rainfall shower, he massaged all the pain away. The sweet ache of three hours spent rolling around the bed of your bridal suite, letting him hold you and kiss you and fill you in ways only he has ever done.

You can still feel the heat of him between your legs. You miss him there.

“I see,” you whisper, tucking in beneath his chin.

Joel kisses your head. “You okay? You’re quiet, baby.”

“Just listening,” you reply, and he locks his phone.

“Maybe that’s enough Maple talk for the night, hm? We oughta be relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow.”

“No,” you turn in his grasp, “I wanna see what you’re doing with it. I think it’ll look good, Joel. Did you get the home report yet?”

He slides his phone onto the nightstand and wraps his arms around you. “Not yet. Soon as the work’s done.”

“It’ll look brand new. Totally different.”

“Mhm,” he smiles, “Sure will.”

You lay down on his chest, trimmed hair tickling your cheek. His heartbeat is familiar against your ear. It still skips a beat, even four years in. Still quickens anytime your hand falls over it.

“Are you ready to let go of the place?”

Joel takes a deep breath. “I guess I have to be,” he says, though the words tremble in his throat. It’s not often you catch him feeling uncertain. “Mom’s gone, Tommy said he don’t want it. Unless we pack up ‘n move outta the city, place would just sit there – empty.”

“Hm. Too many memories to let it go to waste.”

“Well, they ain’t all good ones,” he admits, drawing circles on your shoulder.

You thought, that afternoon in your bedroom, that he’d shown you his whole hand. Thought you knew every suit, every card he held. All the things that made Joel who he was – perfectly polished.

The cars, the property, the jet. The company – Jesus, there ain’t a thing he seemed more natural at, than running a multimillion-dollar business. He made it look so goddamn easy.

It used to drive you insane – how together he was. The cracks you could barely see, he’d glued them so perfectly. The ease with which he could hold himself in one hand, and hold you in the other. Just take it all on his shoulders like it weighed nothing.

For every card of yours that was turned, though, Joel revealed another of his.

Maple hadn’t always been the postcard it so looked. White walls, red mailbox. Flowerbeds and slamming doors; two boys’ bikes and one empty dining chair. He told you things with a flash in his eye – and you were never sure whether it was the fire of fury or the salt of sadness.

Joel isn’t so seamless after all. He’s a mosaic of everything that has ever happened to him. Joy and pain, everything in between. A shattered collection of shards, shimmering in the sunlight.

He’s beautiful. For all the brokenness, all the stitched skin – he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Well,” you say, “Maple raised you, so – I love it.”

He looks down at you like you’re brand new. Like it’s the first time he’s ever laid eyes on you.

Running his business looks natural, sure – but loving you comes as easily to Joel as breathing.

“Alright, pretty girl,” he says. “Bedtime.”

You groan into his chest, nose flat against the threads of silver. “Don’t wanna go to bed, Daddy,” you mumble.

He cups your head. “You’re nervous, huh?”

You nod between his pecs, and Joel laughs.

All this time, all the moments of doubt you’ve squashed with the toe of your shoe – and they still manage to creep back in. The corners of your vision still blur, the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The scars have long closed, but the skin still remembers.

“You know I’m gonna be there, right?” he says. “The whole time. I’m kind of the one you’re marrying.”

“Oh,” you tilt your head, “So that’s who you are.”

He lifts his hands, mirrors your stupid smirk. “Pleased to meet you.”

“What if we don’t see each other? I mean – before…”

“We will,” he promises. “I’ll getcha at the bottom of the stairs.”

“’s gonna be a pretty hectic day, Joel. We might not have time –”

His chin lifts. His lips part, the way they do when he’s about to chew up your panicked gibbering. He takes a breath and, straight as the line of his brow, repeats himself.

“I will get you at the bottom of the stairs. Okay?”

Your frown melts. Okay, you mouth, and he pinches your nose.

“I love you. Now, sleep.”

He flicks the light off.

Four years. Four years passed in the blink of an eye.

Twelve hours after your leaving party, you were strolling through Lavender Oaks, hand in hand. Nothing to hide anymore, no one to convince – not even yourself. You loved him then, whether you really believed it or not. Whether you had the courage to look it straight in the face, or not.

You had loved him for a while, really. It was the last card you had to deal. And Joel knew, long before you’d admitted it to yourself. He’s always been the patient one, hasn’t he?

That night, then, deep in the belly of last summer. Some leafy, twinkling rooftop garden of a restaurant that you can’t even remember the name of, because all you remember is him. Loose collar, long day. Drinks menu in one hand, the other cradling yours.

He was tired, and you knew it. He’d hardly stopped since seven a.m., working all through lunch and straight to eight – but he’d promised you dinner that week. It was already Thursday, and he had a conference or a company retreat or whatever it was that weekend.

You can’t remember. All you remember is his face, the second you said –

When are you going to ask me to marry you?

Joel faltered for all of three seconds – though if he’d had a mouthful of wine, he’d probably have choked on it.

Tomorrow, he said. Yesterday. Now. Marry me.

You laughed. I’m serious. I want you to ask me.

Really? His smirk faded into something more earnest. He looked like a boy, the way his eyebrows lifted and his lip trembled. A boy who believed in magic. The candlelight flickered across his face, suddenly wide awake and glowing with life. Would you say yes?

Mhm. And I wouldn’t break it off two days later, neither.

Lucky me, he mused. He paused, then added, You know we don’t have to, right? I’m happy, baby. I’m happier than I ever thought… his voice wavered and he gulped, I’d be happy the rest of my life, the way we are.

Joel, you lifted his knuckles to your lips, I want to be your wife. I want you to be my husband. Just – just ask me. I’ll say yes.

He beamed back at you like some lovestruck fool. You suppose he was; suppose he had been since the moment he first saw you. A goner as soon as he opened that office door, as soon as he felt the way your hand fit so perfectly in his.

I love you, he said – for what felt like the millionth time. Somehow, he made it mean more each time.

I know, you replied, leaning over the table to kiss him. I love you, too.

In the blink of an eye, your life changed from lonely blue mornings to bright golden dawns. From two boxes of stuff and a Swiss cheese plant, to an entire office with your name on the door.

You collected stripe after stripe, took leap after stride; chased every promotion, every chance, every speck of something over the horizon. Life got busy, you worked your ass off – but for the first time ever, you felt like you were becoming something. Becoming someone.

Joel sat up through all your late nights at the kitchen table. He poured coffee after coffee, carried you to bed when you couldn’t stare at the laptop any longer. He carefully consoled and aptly controlled every stress-induced breakdown you ever had.

He bought you a peace lily to keep your monstera company. He held your hand at every work event you had. He promised you could do it, and slowly, surely, you realized he was right.

So when you told him you were ready – and only then – Joel traded that little gumball ring for a new one.

A real one.

It happened in Paris. He took you back to that same glitzy restaurant – the delicate wine and rich steak, the chandeliers and renaissance ceilings. He echoed every word of French you spoke in a little Austin accent; played footsie under the table and flirted like it was your first date.

He was nervous. Indestructible as he seems, he still has his tells. He played with your hands the whole night, asked if you were okay every second sip of his drink.

Yeah, you said, I’m good. You?

Yep. Yeah. Good.

Your hands are shaking.

He smirked. I’m on a date with a real pretty girl.

He could barely wait for the elevator to reach the suite. He kept closing in on you, pressing words into your neck and playing with the straps of your dress. I love you, I love you, I love you, he said, gripping your waist.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Everything sparkling – the champagne, the stars, the thousand and one candles he had lining the balcony. Everything golden – the tower, the ring, the feeling flooding through your chest. And in a shaking voice, on a shaking knee, with shaking hands you had to cup as he spoke, he asked you.

Easiest yes ever.

He’s already asleep. Head tipped back, snoring to the ceiling. He looks so cute that it makes you giggle.

“’night, baby,” you lull, and cuddle into his chest.

Joel’s alarm splits the morning at seven.

He reaches over to silence it, groans into his palm, and rubs his eyes open. “Mornin’, angel,” he sighs – same as always. The same two words that kick off damn near every single day since you got together.

“Morning,” you reply, and hug him tighter.

You watch as he comes to life. Stirring beneath you, heart fluttering against yours, skin still warm and sleepy. You’ve been awake for the last hour just watching him – fingers trailing the valleys of his collarbones, nose nuzzling into the rugged hinge of his jaw.

Sometimes you wonder if it’ll ever fade – the rush you feel when you see him. The way the world tinges pink, mutes for a moment or two – and Joel is the only thing in any of your senses.

He lifts his arms in a loud stretch, biceps popping. He sucks in a deep breath. “We should do something today.”

You scoff. “Like what?”

His lips turn. I dunno. “Make some lifelong vows, maybe.”

“Sounds boring,” you huff, pushing yourself up. You roll from his grasp and pad over to the bathroom. “Why don’t we grab lunch instead?”

“Boring?” Joel scoffs. He follows you to the sink and curves around you in a bear hug. “Spent over a hundred grand on this thing, Ms. Miller. You telling me we wasted our money?”

His hands sneak under the material of your tee, lifting it over your bare hips. There’s a weight building against the small of your back – another thing that kicks off nearly every single day. It sits heavy, twitching when you reach for your toothbrush and your ass ruts against him.

Joel hisses. “Goddamn, darlin’,” he grabs your hips and steadies you, “Easy on me, now.”

“I’m not the one groping.” You spin in his arms, toothbrush between your molars.

“Can’t help it –” he kisses your neck, “– when you look –” the other side, “– so sweet –” he lowers with a tiny groan, “– ‘n you taste –” he places a long, damp kiss to your tummy, “– even better.”

You squirm in his grasp. “Joel, we don’t have time for –”

“Sure we do,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue to your slit. “It’s us they’re waitin’ for.”

You drop your brush into the sink with a gasp. “Tommy’s gonna be here any second.

His eyes flash up to yours. “Who?”

He scoops your ass and pulls your thighs over his shoulder. Deft with it, a body he knows as well as his own by this point. A body he loves even more.

You open up for him like he never left. Still warm and wet from last night, still coming down from each high he took you to. Sometimes it feels like this is all you do. Sometimes, you wonder if there’s ever a time you feel more you, than when you’re wrapped around some part of him.

Joel’s voice reverberates through your body. He groans as he licks, nips and sucks between your legs, slowly easing you off the counter and onto his mouth.

You reach for his hair. The salt and pepper streaks, the bedhead only you ever get to see before he’s washed and groomed into that perfect shape of himself. A carefully carved shape, ruggedly handsome but intentional.

He’s more relaxed this way. Your way. Before the world seeps into him, before the suit and tie and hundred-dollar cologne. When only his sun has seen him, stirred him, swept her fingers across his broad chest and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Heat is pooling in your stomach, flooding through your veins. It’s cracking open your chest, drawing breath from your lungs. You grip the edge of the counter, back arching, hips rutting against Joel’s tongue – and you come.

He doesn’t miss a beat. Doesn’t miss a drop. He laps every second of it up, every pulse of your cunt, slowing only when you crumple against the mirror and sigh.

Your fingers swirl around his hair. Your body feels heavy with pleasure. The shock is still looping around your bones.

Joel kisses the inside of your thigh and stands, crossing his arms at your spine.

“I love you,” you hum, licking yourself from his lips.

He smiles. A dreamy, golden thing. Still just him and the sun. “Love you, too.”

This morning, of all mornings, might be cutting it fine. They’ve already started setting up downstairs. Twenty tables, one hundred and fifty chairs, one thousand roses, forty bottles of champagne, three grand behind the bar.

The last thing you need on the day of all days is for the bride and groom to be late.

Still. He’s rock solid and right there, throbbing against your tummy.

You slip your hand around him and squeeze, massaging his tip with your thumb.

Joel’s jaw ticks. He feigns offense. “Baby, we don’t have time,” he says, eyes on his cock as you guide him south.

“Shut up,” you breathe, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Ain’t saying no to that,” he replies, and his hips meet yours.

You groan in harmony, wrapping closer together. Joel finds a quick pace, body snapping into yours, holding you strong and steady in his arms.

“Jesus,” he pants, “Three times last night wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

“F-feels like it wasn’t enough for you, either.”

He laughs. “Forever wouldn’t be long enough in this little cunt, sweet girl. She’s too good to me. Loves her daddy, don’t she?”

You follow his gaze down, where his thick cock drags between your legs. Soaked with you, slick and shining with each thrust of his hips. Deeper and deeper, touching a part of you only he’s ever been able to reach. Pulling noises from your throat only he has ever been able to pull.

Joel rolls his forehead against yours and lifts your eyes to his, a messy kiss to your lips. “Like it when you watch,” he whispers. “You see how pretty she looks?”

“Mhm,” you hook an arm around his neck, “Feel so pretty, Daddy.”

“My beautiful girl.” His lips close around yours again, tongue hot and heady in your mouth. His pace stammers when you moan against him. He curses, hips jolting.

He’s close. All too close.

He won’t come before you. Not before he’s drawn another from your body, felt every pulse of your pussy around him. Not before he’s watched you fall apart; felt you collapse into his arms with it.

He slips out, kissing your temple to shush your petulant whine. “’s okay,” he folds your legs to your chest, “I gotcha. I’m here.”

Over his shoulder, the sun lights your reflection in the shower glass. His toned back, the swells of muscle across his shoulder. Hiding the shape of you from the morning – his moaning mess of a girl, gripping onto him and screaming into his chest.

She sobs his name and you taste it on your tongue. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Each one louder than the last, each one sorer.

The window is cracked open. Anyone might be walking under it.

And you like it, don’t you?

The chance that someone might hear. Might know exactly what Joel’s in here doing to you. Ruining you for anyone else, like he’s done a million times over.

It’s as though he lulls you into it. Like waves, starting in the pit of your belly and rolling outward. Heavier and deeper and sweeter, until your orgasm crashes over you in bursts of warmth.

Your arm tightens around Joel’s neck, brows knitting when you reach your peak. You keep your eyes locked on his, and he mirrors your expression.

“Oh, good girl, honey,” he rasps, pausing when his own high overcomes him. He twitches, little bursts of heat in your cunt before flooding the entire thing. He holds your hips flush against his until his cock stills and breath fills his lungs.

He pulls you against his chest and sits you back on the counter. If there’s one thing better than being fucked by him, it’s the comedown. The aftercare. The kissing, the fixing you back into shape.

Your pussy flutters around him. Your ear against his chest, you feel your heart beating in time with his.

Joel cups your head and dots kisses down to your shoulder. He makes to pull out, and you fuss.

“Stay,” you whimper, tugging on his arm.

He smiles. “Oh, baby, wish I could,” he squeezes your waist, “but I heard Tommy knockin’ on the door five minutes ago.”

He strolls back into the bedroom, massaging a knot out of his shoulder.

You sit, stunned, leaking all over the counter, before rushing through at his heels. “Asshole!” you hiss.

He chuckles as he pulls a hoodie over his head. “Couldn’t leave my lady unsatisfied, could I?”

You throw yourself into a pair of his pajama bottoms. “I think she’d have been fine with it, given your fucking brother is right outside.”

He swings the door wide open. You curl around one of his arms.

Tommy leans against the opposite wall, picking at his nails. He straightens, scratches his beard, and smacks his lips.

“Told you you’d sleep in, brother.”

Joel’s chin lifts. He nods, amused. “You did tell me that, yeah.”

You want to slap him for how cocky he definitely feels. His little brother is none the wiser.

The denim-donned Miller steps over the threshold and reaches for you, a bristly kiss to your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart. How you feelin’?”

“Good,” you lie.

“Nervous,” Joel corrects, cocking an eyebrow.

Tommy laughs. “Talk to Maria. She’ll calm you right down. She felt the exact same on our day.”

Their day. Almost ten years ago, back when you and Joel were strangers – and he and Tommy were as good as.

Credit to him, he put up with the pestering from both sides – that is, you and his mom – for six months, at the start of your relationship. Slowly – painfully slowly – he began to entertain the conversation. Never gonna happens turned into if it ever did happens.

He learned to unlock his jaw, to make eye contact with his mom when she talked about Tommy. He asked questions he hadn’t asked in years. He learned where he and his wife lived, what they named their son.

He learned that they’d had a spring wedding. He learned that Tommy’s best man was his drinking buddy. He fell quiet, and his mom knew to change the subject. On the drive home, he held your hand a little tighter than usual.

Six months which, in the end, felt less like convincing him – and more reassuring him. Yes, Tommy might ignore all of his calls. Maybe Maria might answer, and tell him in a hushed voice that now’s not really a great time, Joel.

Maybe his brother might pick up the phone himself, tell him to go straight to hell.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t hardly recognize his big brother’s voice, at first. There was a pause a few breaths too long right after Joel reintroduced himself – long enough that you thought you might’ve kicked him all the way back to square one. And then –

Well, shit, brother. How the hell have you been?

You spent your first anniversary in Jackson. You took Joel’s mom up there every year after. The brothers fit back together like they’d never been apart, like they’d never forgotten the shape of each other’s hug, the cut of the other’s good humor.

Tommy took you in like you’d been part of Joel even before either of them knew your name.

Your fiancé pulls you into a hug. He kisses your head and asks his brother to grab the elevator.

Tommy salutes as he turns down the hallway. “See you later, little sis.”

Joel holds your face and taps your nose. His lips twist in half a smile, half frown. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure,” you sniffle. The sting of tears brims your waterline already and you blink them away. You’re hiding from him.

“I’m right downstairs if you need me,” he says, spotting you clear as day. “Just call.”

“Not supposed to see you before the ceremony.”

“Yeah,” Joel winces, “don’t think we’re supposed to have sex, either, but we broke that rule a long time ago, pretty girl.”

His hands are so big around yours. So steady, pulse loud only from your morning tryst – if at all. He plays with your fingers, straightens the ring on your third.

A sharp bell sounds. Tommy whistles for his brother. Your chest aches.

“Few more hours,” Joel says. “Few more hours and then we got the rest of forever, just you ‘n me.”

He wanders down to the elevator, turning inside. He leans against the back wall and crosses his arms. His eyes meet yours, lips curl in that trademark smirk of his, and the doors close.

The stairs are cold and breezy. The manor doors have been wide open all morning, guests filtering through, allowing the cool to cluster in each corner of the house.

It’s been a busy morning. Par for the course, so you hear. No bride gets through her wedding prep unscathed.

You’ve spent four ass-numbing hours dutifully planted in your chair, your nephew in your arms as something of a comfort blanket, eating fresh fruit and drinking cold champagne and promising not to touch your makeup after the artist is done with it.

Maria uses the light from the window opposite the top of the stairs to finish buttoning your dress. She balances on the second step, peering up at your trembling figure.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” she says.

“In the blink of an eye?” You scoff, but she nods.

“I’m serious. You won’t even feel it, and it’ll be over. You’ll be lying in bed tonight telling Joel, Maria was right.”

You clasp your fingers around your bouquet. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“He could stand to hear it more often.”

You giggle.

A pair of warm hands sweeps down your shoulders, turning you by the elbows. Her dress is a deep olive, spilling over her arms in waves of shining satin.

“Mom,” you breathe, leaning into her.

She smiles, pinching your cheek. “This is it,” she says simply, like it is as simple as tying your shoelaces. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of…” Your eyes scan the summery wallpaper behind her. It offers no answers. “…What if we’re not ready?”

She glowers. “Oh, yeah. Good point. I’m sure the man who flew you to Paris after two weeks is not ready to marry you. We should send everybody home.”

“It’s just a big deal,” you continue, “Lots of people downstairs.”

“No, there’s not. There’s not,” she cuts your protest, voice sharp, “There’s only one person in that room, and it’s him. And you’ve done scarier than this, right?”

Your head wobbles in weakened agreement.

She links her arm through yours. “I remember,” she leads you downstairs, “a little girl with shaking knees, boarding a bus to camp for the summer. I remember her teary face, her tiny hand waving goodbye from the back window. Ain’t this just the same?”

Your bridesmaids slip past, hoisting their silky dresses above their ankles as they tackle the winding staircase.

“Alright, well,” you sniff, “I was eleven when I went to camp, so. Significant difference.”

“I disagree,” she says. “It’s a scary thing to do when you’re eleven, and maybe getting married is a scary thing to do when you’re thirty. But you got on that bus because you wanted to, and you’re doing this because you want it, too. It’s simple, sweetheart.”

She pauses a step below. Her hands drop from yours. Her eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spoil her makeup.

“Sometimes,” she whispers, “we mistake fear for excitement. Butterflies can feel an awful lot like nerves. Sometimes, something scary can take a similar shape to something wonderful. And you never know the difference until you step on that bus.”

She takes another step down and you reach for her hands – the same way you reached for them at the school gates, twenty years ago.

“Mom –” you squeak, twisting your fingers around hers.

She kisses your knuckles. “You are going to live the happiest life with him, I just know it. You’re going to take such good care of each other.”

She skips off around the bend in the stairs, shawl flurrying. At the bottom, she crosses paths with someone, squeezes their sleeve with affection.

He sways into view slowly, carefully, like he’s trying not to spook. Hands in his pockets, suit sleek and smart. Beard trimmed as close as you’d allow, hair fixed as neat as he’d allow.

He cleans up good. He always has. If it weren’t for the handrail, you might faint into his arms.

When he speaks, his voice is light, warm, soft on your skin. Wraps around you and draws you in, safe and sound. Calls you home.

“There’s my girl.”

And you walk to him.

“Hi,” you say, voice soft, heels clicking.

Joel watches every step. His eyes loop up and down your figure, scanning from the swishing hem of your dress to the twinkle in your eyes. He’s somewhere between the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, and shattering into tears.

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs as you twirl into his arms, “You are so beautiful.”

You straighten the flower in his pocket. “You’re pretty beautiful, too.”

You fall together, bodies magnetized. Joel’s chin lifts and your lips connect in a tender kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, hands travelling north along the figure-hugging material of your dress.

“Good choice,” he mumbles into your mouth.

“Mhm,” you reply, a joyful lilt to it. “Knew it was a winner.”

You stand for a moment, swaying together. Your arms crossed around his neck, his snug around your waist. Breathing one another in, steadying each other. Souls finding the other again.

Some last-minute guests scurry through the doors over his shoulder. Their footsteps echo through the hall as they find their seats. Joel holds you all the tighter.

“You ready for this?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. More than I’ve ever been, my whole life.”

“We can still call it off,” he smirks, “Take off on the honeymoon, never talk to any of these assholes again.”

He laughs when you do, relief blooming on his face.

“No, Joel,” you say. Your voice feels clearer, stronger with your body against his. “I love you. I love you so much, and I…I wanna get on the bus.”

His brows pinch. He tilts his head, scoops your jaw. “You…Wh–? What, baby?”

You nod to yourself, staring at his tie. “I wanna get on the bus,” you repeat, voice barely there.

He blinks down at you. His thumb strokes your cheek. He makes to reply – some dumbfounded quip, probably – when a voice splits you apart.

“Psst! You two!”

Your mom ducks her head out into the entrance hall. She clicks her fingers. “They need you up front, Miller.”

He nods and turns back to you, bending to look you in the eye. “Catch your breath,” he says. “Just a little while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you decide. “I’m ready.”

“Alright. Then let’s get on this goddamned bus, whatever the hell that means.”

The celebration is alive with a string melody, the tinkling of glasses, and bursts of sweet laughter.

Your cheeks ache from all the smiling. Your throat is dry from all the talking. And you don’t care. You could do this for the rest of your life, if Joel would let you.

Turns out getting married is pretty fun – once you’ve done it, that is. When all that’s left is to swing between tables, chat until you run out of breath, dance until your feet hurt. Eat until you feel sick, drink until your head dizzies, weep in the bathroom with your friends then reapply your makeup and repeat.

It’s a year-long effort with only a day’s payout – but as far as days go, it’s not half bad.

In the same grand hall you said I do in three hours ago – soaring windows with drapes strung to the heavens, pale flowers arranged on every table, chandeliers glistening overhead – you search for the one missing piece.

“Have you seen my husband?”

Drew scoffs as he approaches your spinning figure. Beer in one hand, his daughter in the other. He shakes his head, laughing.

“You ain’t used to saying that yet, are you?”

“Nope,” you pinch his daughter’s hands, “and I hope I never am.”

She squeals with laughter, kicking her legs under swirls of chiffon. She throws herself out of her father’s arms into yours and you catch her, perching her on your hip.

“Good for you, kid,” Drew says. “You deserve it. You both do.”

You smile and peer down at the toddler tugging on your diamond necklace. “Your uncle Joel bought me this,” you babble in her ear. “If it breaks, you’re one sorry individual.”

She giggles all the louder.

“Last I saw him,” Drew tilts his bottle towards the patio doors, “he was out on the terrace.”

Your eyes flit to the twinkling, dusky sky. “Alone?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

You pass his daughter back, fixing the bow on her dress. “I’ll find him. Thanks, Drew.”

The breeze breathes between the doors as you walk over. It’s a chilled night, but the fresh air is a welcome breather from the busy dancefloor.

Veiled by the sheer curtains, his figure relaxes against the balcony, staring out at the rolling lawn. He exhales a thick, scattered cloud of white to the sky. His head turns at the sound of your heels on the patio.

“Nice view, huh?”

Joel hums. His voice is clotted with tobacco. “Sure is, Mrs. Miller. Fine choice of venue.”

“Teamwork,” you reply, and pat your fingers against his palm in a weak high five. You cross your wrists over his shoulder and stare out at the mountains in the distance. “Out here all by yourself?”

“Just needed a moment. Take it all in.” He tilts the cigar in his hand. “Make use of my wedding gift from my best man.”

There’s a blanket of chill slowly settling over the valley. It hugs a little too tight around your bare arms. You shiver, nestling closer to Joel, and he straightens.

“Here, baby,” he says, shrugging his jacket off. He drapes it over your shoulders and rubs them warm. He plucks the cigar from its ashtray, offering it silently.

You scoff. “I’m not gonna like it.”

“I know,” Joel replies, “but we’re celebrating.”

The stick is heavier than you expected, dry and hard between your fingers. The cap is sliced, dampened by Joel’s lips.

He watches your mouth, smiling when you inhale. “Not too much,” he clasps your wrist lightly, “Only a little.”

It’s rancid, if you’re honest. Clogs your lungs with what feels like unbreathable heat, a sickly-sweet flavor that crinkles your nose. The smoke punches from your lungs in a broken cough. And once they’re clear – you lift the cigar for more.

“Alright,” Joel says, taking it back after a couple more puffs. “That’s enough, Kennedy. Like it?”

“Not bad,” you croak, stealing a swig of his champagne. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

“No, ma’am.”

You lean into him, elbows on the railing, following his outstretched hand as he points out each mountain peak.

He talks about the years he and Tommy spent camping, the long fishing trips with his dad. Regales in excruciating detail the time he pitched his tent right by a cluster of poison ivy, and woke up covered in bloody, blotchy blisters.

He talks about all of it easier than he has in years. As though the dust has settled over the memories, the good and the bad, and all that’s left is to look. No more shifting things around in his mind, trying to find where it all fits. Everything is exactly where it needs to be.

After a while, he kisses your head. “Hey,” he says. “Congratulations.”

You lift your head. “You, too…?”

“You got married today.”

“Did I? Shit, I didn’t mean to.”

He flicks his eyebrows. “That something you saw yourself doing, five years ago?”

No. Not at all. But then my boss held my waist to his in a dive bar, and – you know the rest.

“Hm,” you flatten your lips, “No, but then – you’re not something I saw myself doing, five years ago.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Stay classy, pretty girl.”

You giggle. “I’d do anything, long as it’s with you. Mess around on the first date, fly to Paris on the second. Meet your mom, like, three weeks in.”

“You are not countin’ that lunch with James from accounting as our first date,” he protests. “That shitshow was not our first date.”

“You paid for my meal and you fucked me in the bathroom. Date.”

“No,” he points a telling finger in your direction, “No. If we have kids one day, they’re going to ask. We gotta get our story straight. Our first date was Paris. I took you to Paris.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” You bunch your shoulders, snuggling deeper into his jacket. “Deep down, you know the truth.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“What do you wanna talk about?”

He searches the skyline, plucking up courage when the last of the setting sun catches his eye. “Well,” he sounds nervous, “I thought I could give you your gift.”

You fiddle with your necklace. “I thought you already did.”

Joel shakes his head. He takes your wrists and lifts your hands. “Close your eyes.”

“If you drop a living thing into my hands, Miller,” you screw your eyes shut, “Divorce.”

“Uhuh,” he mutters.

He holds your hands in one of his. There’s the ruffling of linen, a faint jingling, a roaring cheer from inside.

There’s the cold kiss of metal in the cushion of your palm – tiny, featherlight – followed by a coiling, and something jagged.

You hold in a laugh, breathing nervously. “I’m scared,” you whisper, and Joel kisses the hinge of your wrist.

“You trust me?” he asks.

“I trust you.”

“Then, open.”

Your eyes flutter, and there he is. Still standing before you, still smiling. Still holding your hands. He nods down, and you look.

In your palms lies a small brass key. On the end of the chain, a single silver maple leaf tag. It winks back at you, moonlight reflected in its grooves.

You lift the key. It’s worn by time, metal nicked and imperfect. Brass a little tarnished. The leaf sways in your clutch.

“Maple?” you ask, and Joel nods. Your eyes begin to well.

“I know we’re happy in the city,” he says, “and I know it’s just some little paint-chipped house. It’s probably still got school reports ‘n shitty comics up in the attic. I just – God, I can’t shake it, baby.”

You look up at him, a question in your teary gaze.

“A little birdie once taught me,” he steps closer, “that it’s okay to lose things. To let ‘em go. I didn’t believe her at the time. I was scared. Scared to lose her, scared she might find something better. I reckon she was pretty scared, too, but – even when I thought I lost her, she came back.

“She said this thing about making new memories. Better memories. And I just can’t shake it.”

The words catch on your tongue on their way out. You’re only just now realizing how different life was before. Before him, before this. How empty and cold it felt, how little you noticed before the sun peered through the clouds and said something in a drawl laced with love and humor.

How quickly you ran into its warm, open arms.

Joel goes on. “The guys are making a real good job of it. They said there’s plenty potential, and you know it has that huge yard. Now, if you don’t want it, say the word and it’s gone. Out of our hands. But,” his voice breaks, “if you do, then – it’s yours, darlin’. It’s been yours since the moment you walked through the door.”

And, well – hasn’t everything?

The job was yours the very second you tiptoed into his office. He told you so himself. The job, the desk, the free trip to Europe. You walked into his life and flipped everything on its head, without even knowing it.

You worked for him for three years before anything ever happened. Three whole years of elbow nudges and fleeting glances and one too many questions about whoever the other was dating. Joel figures he loved you all that time. You figure you loved him, too.

You changed everything for him. From that first glance, the first meeting of your hands, nothing was ever the same. All of it, from the spare cabinet in his bathroom to the third finger on his left hand – it was all just waiting for you to make it your own.

Hasn’t Joel’s heart belonged to you since you first laid eyes on each other?

You turn the key between your fingers. The answer rolls along the tip of your tongue. The longer you stay quiet, the more nervous you know he’s feeling.

Your eyes meet his – and you smile.

“I want a porch swing.”

Joel chuckles. “Done.”

“And we host Thanksgiving every year.”

“Every year?” He almost grimaces.

You’re staring each other down. It’s as much a game as it is a genuine request, like most of what you do. Just as much teasing as sincere.

You nod. “Every. Year.”

“Okay,” he relents. “Anything else?”

Your eyes drift off behind him. Inside one of the windows, Drew and Rachel twirl their little girl in time with a familiar guitar melody. She throws her head back in a fit of laughter and they pick her up, spinning her around.

Joel glances over his shoulder. He breathes a laugh. “I’ll give you that tonight if you really want it.”

You lean into his chest and kiss his jaw. “I just want you.”

“You got me,” he says. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

The rest of the band kicks in. The raspy lead singer, the perky drum beat. The dancefloor fills some, hands thrown to the ceiling, glasses spilling over.

You bite down on a smile, eyes flitting to Joel’s.

He twists his shoe into the patio, nudging into your side. He extends his arm and you link yours through, following his lead inside. “Good song,” he mutters.

“Hm,” you agree. “Little before my time.”

#bye bye lovebirds! i miss you already!#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #sugardaddy!joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #fic: sex on fire

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madlori · 2 months ago

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If engaging in activism in person, organizing aid societies or participating in them, fighting political fights or otherwise putting boots on the ground is daunting to you - hey great news! You don't have to!

Give them money instead.

Whatever cause you choose to focus on - and it's fine to pick just one - I promise there is an organization out there already doing the work you think needs to be done. I am very grateful for all the millions of people who have the personality and the gumption to get out there and do the real work, because I don't. But those people already have the connections, the networks, the personnel. The best thing you can do for them? Give them money. They know how to best leverage it in the way that you don't.

It can be five dollars a month. ONE dollar a month. Whatever you can spare. But whatever it is, make it a monthly automatic payment. That way they know they can depend on it.

I donate monthly to:

The ACLU

Planned Parenthood

The Southern Poverty Law Center

The Silvia Rivera Law Project (an organization that provides legal support to trans people)

I'm considering adding some abortion access groups. I'm definitely adding Lambda Legal (an LGBT legal defense society). You can see what I've chosen to focus on is civil and queer rights, and reproductive rights. This doesn't mean I don't care about other things! But don't spread yourself too thin.

We are often urged to "do something" in the face of despair. I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be knocking on doors or marching in protests or writing postcards. It can be those things - doing something concrete can provide a lot of satisfaction - but tbh one of the most effective ways to participate in activism is to financially support the professionals. And you can magnify this work by sharing links, spreading news, and urging others to donate, too.

#us politics #activism

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missmonstermel · 1 year ago

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Just a friendly reminder that if you see my often used Krampus design in the wild uncredited to please be super chill when calling it out! It is usually a case of people thinking it is a vintage copyright free clip art piece and being kind about it helps me have a more successful, pleasant encounter. I modeled this illustration to look like an old Gruss Vom Krampus postcard and I guess it is a little too successful.

Now I don't want to make an excuse for the folks tracing the piece without acknowledging the source but a lot of non artists slap it on stuff and are most likely under the impression it is not a modern illustration. It’s been around since 2009 and used to be a source of anxiety seeing it used so much around this time of year but it's something I have made peace with ( also I'm just very tired lol) Looking back, most people who did accidentally use it ended up being decent and pleasant to deal with so that's pretty cool....

I’m glad that it’s seemed to have have a lot of influence on Krampus depictions and has sort of snuck into being accepted as this authentic antique artwork. It would be nice to see my name attached to all of the posts that use him but much like many other online artists, sometimes a dumb thing you made just gets out from under you and fighting it is like fighting the sea. A sea of clippty cloppity, long tongued naughty goat men! Anyway if you want me to get paid for this illustration you can buy the shirt here: https://shirt.woot.com/offers/greetings-from-krampus

#krampus #missmonster

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tyuns-world · 5 months ago

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⌞ My personal cam girl ⌝

Pairing: Camgirl!reader x taehyun

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI)

Summary: Taehyun has an obsession with his favorite cam girl but can he be cured of it when he runs into a cute stranger.

Wc: 2k

Taehyun was an ordinary man with a seemingly typical life. He worked diligently in marketing and maintained a regular exercise routine. His good looks did not go unnoticed, as he frequently received compliments on his attractiveness. Despite this, he was never seen with a romantic partner, and his sex life was virtually nonexistent.

The reason behind this was Taehyun's secret struggle: he wasn't just addicted to pornography; he was obsessed with a particular cam girl. It was a sticky situation for him, having to hide his sexual deviancies. His room was a shrine to you, with posters and signed postcards framed and displayed all over his walls and nightstands. He could never let anyone into his room because of this, keeping it locked at all times when guests are over. Who would ever understand his need to worship such a goddess?

He watched your streams religiously, never missing a single one. Even if a stream coincided with an important event, he would simply cancel the event to stay home and watch you. He followed all your social media accounts and was always the first to like your posts, the biggest gifter, and the most active supporter. You knew his username by heart, thanks to all the donations and gifts he had given you. A sense of pride and joy filled his body whenever you said his username to thank him. The only problem was that his favorite goddess remained faceless, always adorning elaborate masquerade masks during streams and in pictures.

As usual Taehyun finds himself out shopping for a new gift to give his goddess. You tend to love plushies more than the sex toys you're often gifted, a trait he finds utterly charming. As he spots a huge Rilakkuma plushie that he knows would be perfect for you, another hand reaches for it at the same moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry," says a sweet voice. Taehyun looks down to see an absolutely adorable girl. Her braided hair is tied up with a cute pink bow, and her bright, round eyes are accentuated with charming eyeshadow. Her dark skin looks soft to the touch, and her wide, cute nose adds to her endearing appearance. Her lips are plump and glossy, enhanced with alluring lipstick. She's wearing an outfit that Taehyun is certain he has seen before. "Oh no, it's okay. I'm sure there's another one I can get. You can have this one," Taehyun says, taking the plushie off the shelf and handing it to the girl. He's never found anyone this cute—besides his goddess, of course—and it's making him nervous. What is he doing, giving away the perfect gift for his goddess? The girl takes the plushie from him, and her eyes light up with happiness.

"Cute," Taehyun murmurs, taken aback by his own words. He tenses up, his heart racing.

The now embarrassed girl hides her face, her eyes peeking shyly over the big plush.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just—" Taehyun starts to ramble, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"No, it's okay. Um, thank you for the plush..." she trails off, waiting for Taehyun to introduce himself.

"Taehyun," he finishes, his voice softening.

"Well, this is a bit forward, Taehyun, but can I have your number? I mean, maybe we can have joint custody," the girl giggles, her laughter like honey to Taehyun's ears. He's never been this taken by anyone before, except his perfect cam girl. This girl is so different—more cutesy and shy—whereas his goddess is confident, sexy, bold, and a mistress in her own right. Her soft demeanor is a stark contrast, making his heart race even more.

"Yeah, sure, here's my contact information." Taehyun isn’t sure why he’s following this girl's whims, but her aura makes him want to do anything for her. After they exchange numbers, the strange cutie toddles off to pay at the counter. Taehyun smiles to himself, thinking about how adorable she looks, until he notices a problem at the register. He hurries over. "Hey, what’s up?" he asks the girl.

She looks at him, clearly upset. "I forgot my wallet. I’m such a ditz, and the cashier says they can’t hold it for me," she says, her voice trembling on the edge of tears. All this over a plushie—she must really love them. "It’s fine, I’ll pay. You can give me half later since we have joint custody," Taehyun says with a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure? The guy says it's $250," she says, looking at him worriedly.

"Yeah, I've spent more on a plush," Taehyun laughs it off, paying the cashier and starting to hand over the plushie. The girl stops him. "No, no, you can have the first week until I pay you back. Then our son is mine," she insists with a playful smile. Taehyun barely has a chance to respond before she leaves the store, waving his number in the window and mouthing, "I'll text you," before disappearing into the crowd. He watches her go, the playful exchange leaving him feeling lighter and more excited than he had in a long time.

It has been exactly a week since then, and Taehyun is starting to wonder if she'll ever contact him. He tells himself he'll be perfectly fine if she doesn't; he can always go back to his original plan and gift the plushie to his favorite cam girl. Sitting in his apartment, he eats a sad dinner of buldak and spam when a ping comes from his phone. He checks it excitedly, hoping it might be the cute stranger. His heart sinks a bit when he sees it's just a notification for a random live stream from you.

He shakes his head—how could he be disappointed when his goddess is doing an extra live for her fans? He abandons his dinner, bolting to his room to set up the stream on his PC for better quality. "Hello, my pups. Today, I have sad news for all you degenerates. I will be taking a hiatus to focus on some other stuff, but don't worry, I'll send out this month's care package and this stream will be extra steamy because I know whatever I do, y'all will like it." The stream is indeed steamy. Taehyun almost pathetically came without even touching himself. You were just so sexy and knew exactly how to move your body, captivating him completely. The way you move, the sultry tone of your voice, and the seductive looks you give the camera hold him spellbound, making him forget everything else.

When your stream ends, Taehyun finds himself rewatching it to get off. He can't do it when you're live; he has to focus entirely on every movement you make. As Taehyun strokes himself through his boxers, his arm flexing, showcasing his muscular stature, with pants long discarded halfway through the stream, he finds himself imagining the face of the pretty girl he saw over your covered one. Thoughts of her glossy lips wrapping perfectly around his hard cock flood his mind. He envisions the seductive scene, imagining how sexy it would be to reduce her to a ruined mess beneath him. The image of her innocent eyes looking up at him, filled with desire, fuels his arousal. That night, he comes harder than he ever has before, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

While tidying up, another notification buzzes on Taehyun's phone. Glancing at it briefly, he's surprised to find a new number texting him: "Where shall we meet to discuss our 'joint custody'?" Hastily wiping himself clean, he discards the tissue and rubs his sticky hands against the bottom of his shirt. With trembling fingers, he responds, "There's a cozy café near the store where we met. How about meeting there?" Anxious for her reply, Taehyun nervously bites his nails until his screen illuminates with her response: "Sounds perfect! See you there tomorrow at 3."

Today is the day—Taehyun keeps reminding himself it's not a date with the pretty girl; it's just a talk. While tossing and turning last night, thoughts kept him up, and Taehyun realized he never caught her name, and curses himself for not asking. Whilst gazing at his reflection in his coffee cup, fussing with his bangs for the umpteenth time, a sweet voice perks him up. "Hey, hope you didn't wait long." Taehyun smiles up at the pretty stranger, taking in her appearance. She's wearing a stunning red dress, her makeup more glamorous than their first meeting.

"No, I haven't been here long," Taehyun lies. He's been here since the cafe opened at 11 am, though he won't admit it. "I see you brought the goods," the charming woman says, gesturing over to the huge, hard-to-miss bear seated right next to him. "Yep, just as promised," Taehyun smiles. She settles into her seat as the waiter approaches. Opting for the only tea on the menu instead of coffee, she leans in to whisper to Taehyun, "I'm not much of a coffee person." "Oh no, I could've picked a different place," Taehyun furrows his brow, angry at himself for never asking what she would prefer as their meeting place.

She lets out a laugh that's like music to Taehyun's ears. "Don't fret, it's okay," she reassures him, her hands briefly squeezing his before retreating to her side. "Okay, so I only have cash. I hope that's okay," the pretty woman in red starts to pull out a thick envelope, drawing some curious glances as she prepares to hand it over. "Um, I think it's best if we wait," Taehyun nervously says. The woman looks around and catches the hint quickly, putting the money back into her purse.

"How about we go to your place for the exchange? Do you live nearby?" she asks, her eyes shining with anticipation. Taehyun hesitates; he does live close by, but the thought of her discovering his secret makes him anxious. Yet, her expectant gaze softens his resolve, and he eventually admits to living nearby. "Perfect," she responds, rising from her seat and heading to the counter to get her tea to go.

The closer they get to Taehyun's place, the more nervous he becomes. Despite his attempts to play it off, the lady can sense his unease, offering silly jokes and remarks along the way to loosen him up. As they approach his building and ride the elevator up to his door, Taehyun's hand shakes as he turns the knob. The cute stranger notices his trembling and takes matters into her own hands, opening the door herself and stepping inside. She gives a big stretch, her comment breaking the tension, "Wow, with how nervous you were the whole time, I was expecting a dingy, dirty place."

Taehyun's place is surprisingly luxurious, boasting an amazing view and expensive modern furniture. It's a stark contrast to his plain outward appearance. She carefully takes off her shoes and plops herself on the couch, and puts her drink on the coffee table, making herself at home. "Is it that you've never had a woman in here?" she teases, observing Taehyun's reaction closely. Taehyun tenses, a subtle shift that catches the attention of the cutie.

"Oh, you haven't? Do you not go on dates? I assumed with your good looks and all, you were a playboy," she remarks, looking at Taehyun with surprise. Taehyun shrugs, setting the plush on a separate chair before settling himself beside the lady on the couch. "Nope, I haven't had a girlfriend since high school. I'm pretty busy with work and my friends," he explains. "So, are you a virgin?" The lewd question, coming from such a innocent looking girl, makes Taehyun choke on his spit. She looks expectantly at him, as if she isn't asking a very personal question.

"No, I'm not, but at least take me out to dinner first before asking stuff like this," Taehyun jokes, trying to lighten the mood. The lady's eyes widen, seeming to realize the kind of question she just asked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm way too open about stuff," she says, her face warming with embarrassment. "That's fine. Do you want some lemon or anything with your tea?" Taehyun offers, trying to ease the tension. She shyly declines, focusing on her drink as Taehyun excuses himself to use the restroom.

Left alone in the living room, the cute stranger's eyes wander around the space. In all honesty, she was on the hunt for a new apartment, and this building looked perfect. She mentally takes measurements of the living room and the kitchen. "Hmm, I wonder how big their rooms are," she muses.

The cute stranger knows it's inappropriate to snoop, especially into someone's room, and if it's locked, she'll give up and go back to her seat. But her line of work requires a spacious bedroom, so her curiosity outweighs her morals as she turns the doorknob. To her surprise, it's unlocked. She flicks on the light and is taken aback to find a bedroom shrine dedicated to her.

"What the hell?" Taehyun's voice, filled with a blend of anger and surprise, startles you as he swiftly moves behind you, shutting the door with a firm hand. "I—" you mumble, ready to explain yourself, but stop. "Actually, why aren't you explaining yourself? You're the stalker," Taehyun looks taken aback. "Stalker? You came over to my place and started snooping around. I don't care how pretty you are; that's just not cool," he crosses his muscular arms. A normal person would've thrown you out by now, but Taehyun was willing to overlook this if you could overlook his obsession.

"You mean you didn't know?" you say, looking incredulous as him. His face twists in confusion. "Oh god, you really don't," you exclaim. You gently pry Taehyun's hands off the doorknob and stride into his room. Taehyun follows, intending to usher you out, but you begin undressing, causing him to blush and close his eyes. "Open them," you demand, Taehyun obliges. His body is unable to resist your command. You're seated on his bed, legs spread, and Taehyun swallows nervously at the sight. "All of this," you gesture around the room, "is me," you declare. Taehyun is less surprised at your announcement because as soon as he saw your stunning naked form, he knew. How could he not? He studied it nightly, thinking of all the ways you could use him.

Taehyun's mind races, from the situation at hand. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, he finds himself drawn to you, his gaze lingering on your captivating figure. You, on the other hand, seem unfazed by the intensity of the moment. With a subtle smirk, you break the silence. "Surprised, Taehyun?" Your voice is laced with a hint of amusement. Taehyun clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I... I don't know what to say," he stammers, his eyes still fixed on you. You rise from the bed, moving closer to him with a confident stride. "You don't have to say anything," you reply softly, reaching out to trace a finger along his jawline. "Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" Taehyun is powerless against your intense gaze, not knowing what to do next. However, you do and so you take charge, closing the distance between you two and pulling Taehyun into a steamy, lustful kiss. You reach for his hands, guiding them to your ass. Taehyun quickly catches the hint and squeezes it, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

You roam your hands under his shirt, relishing the feel of his defined abs beneath your fingertips. Taehyun's confidence grows as he takes the lead, guiding you backward until you fall onto his bed, with him on top. You try to assert your dominance by nipping and sucking on his neck, playfully calling him your pup, but Taehyun's exploration of your body quickly overwhelms your senses.

His rough hands send electric waves of pleasure coursing through your needy body, and you let out a soft sigh of satisfaction as his lips pepper fluttery kisses down your neck. You're accustomed to being in control in sexual encounters yet you find yourself completely dominated by Taehyun's presence. As his fingers expertly trace circles on your wet pussy, you surrender your body entirely to him, lost in the overwhelming sensations of pleasure. "More," you pathetically whimper into Taehyun's ear, and he happily obliges, shoving two of his fingers inside your soaked, aching core. Your back arches in pleasure as Taehyun flicks his fingers inside your cunt, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You had pegged him for inexperienced, but how wrong you were; he effortlessly has you panting and moaning with just his fingers.

"I'm close," you moan out as Taehyun expertly flicks his fingers in a steady pace. Instead of accelerating, chasing your orgasm as you desperately want, he removes his fingers, making eye contact as he sucks your juices off them. Before you can whine or protest, Taehyun lines himself up with your pussy and roughly shoves himself inside, eliciting a loud moan from you. Taehyun sets a teasing rhythm, causing you to beg him to go faster. Ignoring your pleas, he continues to use you as he pleases, driving you wild. As he nears his own climax, Taehyun increases his pace. You cling to him, the heightened intensity bringing you even more pleasure.

Lost in the intoxicating haze that is Taehyun, he whispers dirty words into your ear, echoing ones you've used when teasing your stream. Now, he uses them against you, pushing you over the edge. Your body tenses with pleasure as you release around him. Taehyun however maintains his rhythm, smirking as he practically fucks your orgasm back into you. "I'm coming inside," he declares, leaving no room for argument as he fills you with his warm cum.

The now worn-out boy practically collapses on top of you, spent from the intense encounter. "Shit, I'm sorry for being a bit much," he mumbles into your hair. "No, you were amazing. I loved every second," you reassure him, running your fingers through his hair. "So, what do you think about doing this again? Maybe at my place, in front of a camera," you suggest, your voice laced with anticipation. Taehyun just mumbles an exhausted agreement, too spent to realize what he just agreed to.

#txt x black reader #tyuns-world #x black reader #txt smut #tomorrow x together hard thoughts #tomorrow x together smut #taehyun x black reader #kang taehyun hard hours #taehyun x you #taehyun hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt hard hours #taehyun hard hours

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beforeyearning · 1 month ago

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leaving a voicemail for god for the umpteenth time. click for better quality. transcript under cut.

LEAVING A VOICEMAIL FOR GOD FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME

It’s me again, and I know I just left you a voicemail about an hour ago,

thanking you for marbling the sky with the most vibrant colours I’ve

seen in a while & for the morning songs of the thrushes—I wanted to

call you and say that I know this year isn’t over, just yet, but it was quite

a year & for all the wrong reasons, and there really hasn’t been a moment

to just rest, it’s been a series of one thing after another, and I’m not even

sure why I’m telling you about another year that almost killed me, I’ve

been trying to practice being more mindful & more grateful, but I’ve

been grasping at straws lately. It feels like the rot is everywhere these

days. I was hoping you could send me a postcard, from wherever you

are at the moment, I’d settle for a sign. My memory isn’t the best but

I have a tendency to keep replaying the little things and inflate their

significance, I still think of the first time I saw her brown eyes catch

evening light far too often. At times, it feels like I’m comprised entirely

of a series of small things, and for once, I just want one big thing

to call my own. That isn’t too much trouble, is it?

#poetry #spilled ink #poeticstories #writerscreed #bitsofstarglow #smittenbypoetry #deadwatered #words #writers of tumblr

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sheerfreesia007 · 1 month ago

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Love Postage

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 1,986

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You’re used to traveling a lot for your career and would often buy Minho souvenirs from the places that you travel too. But what happens when you find a new way to show him that you’re thinking of him on your travels? And what happens when he displays those gestures proudly in his apartment?

Jagi: Sweetheart

Walking through the departure gate of your flight you enter the Cairo International Airport and take in a deep breath of air, after being on your flight for hours you were more than happy to finally be off of it and able to stretch your legs and breathe in fresh air. You’re traveling on a work trip for a project that has been months in the making and a project that you were not only spearheading for your company but also very passionate about. You were helping the start up of the Egyptian branch of your company and couldn’t wait to see all of your hard work come to fruition, this would now be your third time in Egypt and you were finally becoming comfortable with the country and the area that the new branch would be in.

As you walked through the airport towards the exit where you knew your counterpart here would be waiting for you, something brightly colored caught your eye in one of the little shops in the airport. Turning towards it you saw a tall spinning rack full of postcards with different scenes of Egypt on them. You grinned softly as you spotted one with a zoomed in picture of a camel. But you gasped softly when you found one with a picture of the three pyramids at sunset and a duo of camels in front. You quickly plucked the postcard from the rack and brought it to the register to pay for it knowing that your boyfriend Minho would love it.

Ever since you started dating Minho almost a year ago you had formed the habit of picking him up little souvenirs from all the places that you would travel to for work. It was your way of showing him that you were thinking about him on your travels and always wanting to show him that you cared. But recently you started noticing that his collection of souvenirs was becoming too big for him to store comfortably so you had figured that you would have to find a new way of showing him that you were thinking about him. As you paid for the postcard you thought maybe this would be an easier way for him to see that you cared and thought about him while you were away.

*-*-*-*

Two days later and half way through your work trip you were met with some down time that you were able to spend going sight seeing around the city. You had managed to tour the pyramids for a few hours before returning to your hotel room where you would need to get ready for dinner with the employees for the Egyptian branch. Laying back on your hotel bed you grabbed your phone and sent Minho a text asking if he was free for a video call. When you quickly received a response you couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness before your phone began to ring.

“Jagi!” he cried happily as his face appeared on your screen and you beamed happily at him.

“Hello my love.” you cooed at him and he bashfully smiled at your greeting just as Jisung could be heard in the background calling out for you.

“Hi Jagi!” Jisung called out and you laughed as Minho rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“She’s my Jagi, not yours.” he scolded Jisung who butted his way into the video screen causing you to laugh at the two of them as they bickered back and forth.

“I miss you. Both of you but mostly Minho.” you told them around your laughter and the two men settled together with their faces pressed together as they watched you on the screen.

“Are you having a good trip Jagi? Are you eating well?” Minho asked curiously as his eyes darted around the screen.

“No, ask her if she’s seen any of the tourist sights there.” Jisung argued and you grinned at the two of them

“I am eating well, I have a dinner that I have to get ready for a little bit. But I wanted to call you and tell you about the Pyramid tour that I went on today.” you told the both of them fondly. “It was so amazing being able to walk through some of the pyramids! It’s cramped in there in certain places but other parts of the pyramids opens up and you’re able to walk at full height.” you explain to them and they nod their heads along to your words. “I can’t wait to bring you here with me Minho.” you say wistfully and he grins lovingly at you at your words.

“When your company has the opening ceremony for the new branch, I will make sure that I can come with you. I’ll clear it with the company and we can go visit the Pyramids together.” he promises you and you blow him a kiss which makes his ear tint pink with delight.

“I would love that. How are you doing? Are you able to relax or are you all super busy with work?” you ask worriedly and Minho shakes his head at your questions.

“We’re okay Jagi. No need to worry about us.” Minho tells you fondly as he smiles softly at your worry.

“Alright, I have to start getting ready for dinner. I’ll send you a picture of my outfit before I go, okay?” you tell them and Minho nods while smiling at you. “I love and miss you Minho.” you say softly to him with a dreamy smile and he blushes heavily at your confession while Jisung makes kissy faces at you before pouting. “Love and miss you too Jisung.” you say teasingly while rolling your eyes as the man cheers and exits the screen with a holler as Minho scowls at him. “But I love you most Minho.” you say sweetly and he grins at you sweetly.

“Love and miss you too Jagi.” he tells you before hanging up on the call. As you get up from the bed you spot the plastic bag from the airport that holds your postcard in it and you grin widely. Moving to the desk in the corner you take the postcard out of the bag and grab the hotel pen that they provide. You think for a moment before you put the pen to the postcard and start writing out a lovely letter to Minho. When done you grin down at the postcard and make plans to have it mailed out before you leave for dinner.

*-*-*-*

The next time you see Minho it’s after your work trip and you’ve returned home, he invited you to his apartment for dinner to welcome you home and you gladly accepted. When you arrive he’s in the kitchen cooking already as you let yourself into his shared apartment with Jisung. You walk into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him behind as you press your body flush to his back humming softly as your lips graze his neck gently.

”Hello, my love.” You coo at him and he chuckles softly as he melts back into you while still stirring the food in the pot on the stove.

”Hello, Jagi.” He responds fondly to you. “Dinner will be ready shortly.” He says softly before turning his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. You breathe him in with a quiet hum as you squeeze him a little tighter in your arms. “You alright?” He asks quietly and you nod your head before resting your forehead on his shoulder.

”Just missed you.” You say softly and he pats your crossed hands on his stomach.

”I miss you too Jagi.” He tells you and you smile fondly at him before kissing his clothed shoulder and then let him go.

”I’m going to go put my overnight bag in your bedroom. Then I’ll be back and set the table.” You tell him and he nods at you before you slip out of the kitchen and head to where you had dropped your overnight bag. As you pass the desk resting against the wall near the living room you spot Minho’s cork board that he always pins important things to and something catches your eye. You halt your movement and turn to the cork board before a wide smile blossoms on your face, there in the middle of the cork board is your postcard from Egypt pinned as if it was the most important thing on that board and you feel your heart thud heavily in your chest with love for the man.

After putting your bag in his bedroom and returning to the kitchen you can’t help but to tease the sweet man. You walk up to him as he stands at the stove and press a quick kiss to his cheek which makes him jolt in surprise before turning to you with slightly tinted ears and wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction and he clears his throat to try and distract himself from your gesture.

”What was that for?” He asked curiously and you grin at him.

”You put my silly little postcard up in the middle of your important cork board.” You tease him gently and he scoffs softly at you as he continues to cook. You figure he won’t respond to you so you turn to the cabinets and begin to pull out bowls and silverware for the two of you.

”Of course I put it in the middle. It’s the most important thing on that board.” He tells you honestly and you whip your head to stare at him with wide eyes. He smirks at your reaction before explaining more. “I loved your postcard. It made my heart race when I received it in the mail. And then when I read all your wants of bringing me to Egypt with you to show me all the sights that you’ve come to love already, it made my heart feel as if it was there in Egypt with you. Like I was already there sharing those experiences with you.” He admits. “Whenever I pass the board and see your postcard there I’m reminded of my reaction to receiving it and it’s like I’m receiving it all over again. It’s a reminder of how you think about me and love me even when you’re countries away. I love that reminder.” He said honestly and you beam happily at him before setting the bowls and silverware down. He turns to you hurriedly already knowing your plan of attack as you near him quickly. He wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you close before his lips fall against yours lovingly. “I absolutely adore you and the love you hold for me is something I hope to never lose.” He confesses softly against your lips and you hum at him.

”You never will, my love. You’re mine and I’m yours for however long we deem fit.” You tell him.

”And if I want forever?” He asks breathlessly as his eyes search your own.

”Then I will give you forever.” You whisper against his lips before pressing yours against his lovingly. He sighs softly against you before the two of you fall into your kiss.

*-*-*-*

Over the years the postcard was swapped with different ones from different countries that you traveled to for work telling Minho about the sights that you would like to take him to. But as the postcards were swapped for new ones soon pictures of the two of you in each country at different tourist sights started to appear on the important board. Some pictures even featured an excited Jisung as well. Soon the important cork board turned into a cork board filled with love and while Minho had originally planned for it to be filled with important things that he would have to keep track of he was perfectly fine with its new evolution.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho

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and-claudia · 3 months ago

Text

Yours pt. 3 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Warnings: DDDNE (that is your warning that this is gonna get a little fucked up here), masturbation, taking/sending dirty pictures, manipulation, controlling relatives, lying, p in v (not Yn, Paddy and Ciara, trust me on this, okay?), infidelity, mean!Paddy, use of a gag

I think that is it, but seriously, if you read this and think I need to add another one, DM me!!

Word count: 4000+ (I got carried away, I'm so sorry, but not really)

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

Being back in the small, modern apartment I was supposed to call made me sad. It was cold and grey and just uninviting. It was the complete opposite of how I felt around Paddy in Italy. I missed him. I tried to distract myself with everything under the sun. I tried not to think about the night we shared but it was no use. More often than not, I found myself laying in bed, hand between my legs, doing my best to imagine it was him and not my own hand.

Which is where I found myself currently. I had been babysitting Agnes all afternoon, not that she really needed me to. She was nearly 12 she could take care of herself for a few hours and leave me alone. So when I heard Lousie call my name, I was beyond pissed because I was close to finishing.

“What?” I yelled back, frustration evident in my voice.

“You got some mail! It’s from Ciara! Come get it.” She hollered back.

I sighed and removed my hand, “Coming!” I yelled, though it wasn’t the coming I wanted to be doing.

As I walked downstairs, I realized it was odd that I was getting something from Ciara. Nonetheless, I walked over to get it. “Oh Ben, we got a postcard from Paddy as well.” She said, handing him the card. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit jealous that he sent something to them and not to me.

I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Hello Darling,

I didn’t want Ben or Louise to get suspicious of me writing you, so I had to put Ciara’s name on the envelope. I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ve thought about you every night. Your face, your tits, your tight, perfect cunt. You are consuming my every thought. Ciara can’t satisfy me the way you can. I need you. I hope to see you soon.

If Ben or Lousie ask what this letter was about, just tell them Ciara hopes to see you soon because she had such a fun time hanging out with you in Italy.

P.s.

There’s a surprise for you in the envelope… maybe you can return the favor and write me back. But send it to Ciara. She’ll understand.

-Paddy

I smiled and peeked into the envelope before sliding the letter back into it. I bit my lip at the small glimpse I got of them. At the bottom of the envelope, there were some pictures of him, each one with less clothes than the last.

“What’d she say?” Lousie asked just as I closed the envelope back up.

“Oh, she’s just hoping that we come visit soon because she misses hanging out with me.” I said.

Louise made a face, and I knew some disapproving comment was coming.

“Isn’t that a little weird? I mean, she’s a good deal older than you… Isn’t that a little odd, Ben?” She asked.

“Hm? Yeah, it’s weird.” He agreed, and I sighed.

“It’s not that weird. She’s not that much older than me…” I try to defend.

“I don’t know if that makes it any better… I mean, Paddy is clearly older than her… did you catch how long they were together? Over 15 years, right? How old would that have made her when they got together?”

“I don’t think that’s our business; they’re clearly happy together.” I said before turning to Ben, “What does the postcard say?” I asked, trying to change the topic.

“Oh, it’s just him inviting us out to their farm again.” He said, setting it down.

I took the opportunity to grab it and look it over.

“Have you thought about it?” I asked.

“About what?” Lousie asked.

“About going to visit their farm…” I said as if it were obvious.

“Oh… I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, we’re not suited for that type of lifestyle. I don’t really think any of us would enjoy it.” She said.

I took a moment to think before speaking up again.

“I actually think it may do us all some good.” I began gently gaining both of their attention, “After I stormed off from brunch that day, Paddy told me that he pitched the idea to you and I agree with him. I think a break for a city and some fresh air could really help all of us out… and then maybe when we get back, I can finally get with a therapist and start working through everything…” I added that last bit as the cherry on top.

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I waited for a response. Lousie and Ben exchanged a look.

“You know what, I think that’s a good idea too. Ben?” Louise said.

“Yeah… I’ll, um, write back to him tomorrow and set up some dates.” He said clearly slightly thrown off by the sudden decision from Lousie.

“Thank you!” I said, a bit too excited, “I’m going to go write back to Ciara.” I said before taking off upstairs.

I was buzzing with excitement. I would get to see Paddy again. It felt like my heart was going to burst. Quickly, I sat down at my desk with a piece of paper and a pen to write him back.

Paddy,

Firstly, I was so confused when I saw the envelope from “Ciara” addressed to me. It definitely threw off any suspicions my aunt or uncle may have had. Once I opened it and saw it was really from you, I got excited. I’ve missed you too. Most nights, I try to satisfy myself with my hands, but nothing compares to you. I can’t even look at another man without missing you even more.

I have good news, though… we will be coming to visit your farm! I am not sure when Ben is supposed to be writing to you soon to set up some dates. I hope we can go soon. I’m not sure how much more of this distance I can take.

Also, I returned the favor for the little surprise you put in my envelope. I hope you enjoy them.

Always yours,

I tucked the letter into my drawer so it wasn’t out in the open for anyone, meaning my nosey aunt or cousin, to read. Then I grabbed my Polaroid camera bag off the shelf. I brought it over to my bed and sat down with it to carefully take it out. At the bottom of the bag were a few Polaroids I secretly took of Paddy and me in Italy. On our last day, we had all gone out sightseeing around the town, and I brought the camera with us. On the top of the stack was one I had taken when he and I had slipped away during dinner to get a drink from the bar. The sun was setting, and I managed to get one last picture of the two of us. The sunset was in the background as he kissed my cheek and I was smiling at the camera. It was my favorite picture from the trip, and seeing it made me miss him even more. I reminded myself that it was now only a matter of time before I got to see him in person again.

After I carefully put the pictures back in the bag and picked up my camera. Unfortunately I didn’t have a good mirror in my room to take the pictures, only the small one on my desk that I used to do my makeup. So I slipped out and went into the bathroom to take a couple full body pictures to send to him.

I made sure to turn the shower on to make it seem like I was actually doing something in here. After some thought I decided to take the same approach he had and started by just taking my shirt off, leaving me in my jeans and bra. I kept removing layers until I was completely naked. I snapped one more picture before setting the camera down and actually getting in the shower.

Once I got out, I put my robe on, grabbed my camera, and went back to my room to take one more special picture for Paddy. I wanted to give a small glimpse at what he had been missing. I set the camera up on my dresser, facing my bed. There was a small knot in my stomach that was a mix of nervousness, excitement, and arousal at what I was doing. After fixing my bed up, I double-checked that my door was locked before removing my robe. I knew I would have to work fast with only 30 seconds on the timer. I mapped out my route and thought about positioning before taking a deep breath and pressing the timer button.

I hurried and got set up on the bed, laying back, legs open to the camera. After a quick swipe through my folds, I wasted no time slipping two fingers into my hole, pumping them only a couple of times, knowing my goal was to get the picture, not get off. I waited for the click before removing my fingers and getting up to grab the picture as it printed. I shook it and watched as the image appeared.

The thought of Paddy opening these pictures sent a new wave of arousal through me as I sat back down at my desk, wrapped back in my robe, and put them into a fresh envelope along with the letter. I addressed it to Ciara just as he instructed me to before sealing it and setting it to the side. I would get a stamp from Ben tomorrow. Then I got up and went over to my dresser to get his shirt that I stole and put it on. I crawled into bed with images of Paddy’s reaction to the pictures as the only thing on my mind.

3rd Person PoV

It had been about a week since Yn sent her letter to “Ciara” and Ben had sent one to Paddy. And they had finally arrived. Paddy hardly ever got mail. Only when he was expecting something from his soon-to-be victims did he ever receive anything of importance. So he had been checking the mail quite frequently lately, waiting to see some familiar names.

When He flipped through the envelopes, he saw the name Ben Dalton in the corner first, making him smirk a little before looking at the last one. It was addressed to his wife, but in the corner, he saw who it was from, and his smirk grew. He tucked that one into his back pocket for now before bringing the other one into the house.

“Ciara, look!” He said, walking into the kitchen where his wife was, holding up the envelope.

“That from the Daltons?” She asked curiously.

“Yup,” He said, opening it and taking out the letter; he skimmed over it before announcing, “Looks like we’ll have guests soon.”

Ciara hesitated for a moment, “Wonderful.” She forced a smile.

“What?” Paddy asked, his happy mood suddenly gone, “Is this about Yn?”

She didn’t answer at first but eventually nodded, “You got awfully close to her, Paddy. Are you really going to be able to kill her? That’s the whole point of this. Are you going to be able to do it?” She asked.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s more about the hunt than the kill? Don’t worry. This is going to be the best hunt yet.” He said, a wicked gleam in his eye.

After their discussion, Paddy went upstairs to open his letter from Yn. He read it and although he already knew it, seeing it in her handwriting made him even more excited for their arrival. He couldn’t wait to indoctrinate her into his sick, twisted world, and he knew she’d do great by his side.

He looked at the pictures she sent, and it made his cock twitch, watching as each picture revealed more and more skin to him until she was completely bare. But nothing could prepare him for that last one. Seeing the image of her spread open like that all for him, fingers in her tight pussy, it made him painfully hard seeing it and not being able to have the real thing right in that very moment.

“Ciara!” Paddy called.

Upon hearing her name she quickly turned off the stove and hurried up the stairs to her husband. It was almost a ritual at this point. The prospect of a new hunt always turned Paddy on and it had always led to a night of hot, passionate sex for the two of them, and she was looking forward to that.

She had barely even gotten through the door when Paddy began barking orders at her.

“Shut the door, take off your clothes, and get in the bed.” He commanded.

She swiftly obeyed and perched herself on their shared bed waiting. Her eyes watched as Paddy undressed as well and then walked over to the dresser to where the pictures Yn had sent laid sprawled out across it. He picked up the one of her completely naked, wanting to be able to see her face to better imagine her while he fucked his wife.

He finally waked over to the bed and looked at Ciara as she sat, legs spread in anticipation for him to fix himself between them and fuck bed. However that was not what Paddy had in mind.

“Turn around.”

She did as he said, unsure what he had picked up from the dresser as he was keeping it from her view.

“Face down. Don’t even think about looking at me, I don’t want to see your face.” He commanded as he crawled on to the bed.

I pang of hurt and confusion hit Ciara but nonetheless she did as he said. Then without any warning he abrupt thrusted all the way into her. She let a moan that was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Paddy didn’t give her anytime to recover from his harsh thrust into her as he began fucking her at an almost inhumane pace.

Ciara squirmed under him, unable to hold still as Paddy fucked her from behind. Her moans bounced off the walls of their small room. Although it wasn’t what she was expecting, she couldn’t help how good she felt having him have his way with her. In someways, it was better than what she was expecting.

“Quit moving.” Paddy snapped, gripping her hip with one of his hands in an attempt to keep her still.

“And. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He punctated each of his words with a thrust harsher than last.

This did little to quiet Ciara. Her moans only grew louder until Paddy couldn’t take it anymore. He hated the way her moans sounded. He hated the way her cunt felt. He tried his best to focus on the picture he held of Yn, but his wife’s moans were making it nearly impossible to keep the mental image of her sound.

Quickly he glanced around for anything that would help quiet her long enough for him to finish. His eyes landed on his belt than he had unceriomniouisly dropped on the edge of the bed. He grabbed it and tossed it up to her for her to grab.

“Bite down on that. I don’t want hear another one of your fucking moans, understand?” He said.

She nodded, and grabbed with a shaky hand before folding it over and biting down on it. Then she lowered her face back to the mattress and allowed him to continue.

Now with her moans muffled, Paddy was able to focus on the one thing he wanted most in that moment: Yn. It didn’t take long before his cock was twitching with the anticipation of his release. And soon, he was cumming, but he didn’t relent on his unforgiving thrusts until he was completely spent. And then, he pulled out of his wife, got up, put his clothes on, and left the room.

Ciara was left in a dazed state. Left confused by Paddy’s rush to finish and then leave. The sex itself wasn’t too far out of the ordinary for them. Paddy did have a tendency to harsh at times when they fucked, but not like that. Slowly she stood from the bed and collected some clothes to go shower. Despite his haste to leave, Paddy had been smart enough to collect the pictures and stash them to keep Ciara in the dark about his intentions for this hunt.

Yn’s PoV

It had been a little over a week after I sent my letter back that I received another one from “Ciara.” I had been the one to check the mail that day so once I saw it I immediately ran upstairs to read it. I felt like a school girl reading a note that was passed to her from her crush

Yn,

Thank you so much for those pictures, baby, I really needed that boost to hold me over until you get here and I can have the real thing again. I cannot wait until you’re here, where you belong, with me, in just a couple weeks.

However, I need you to follow directions carefully though before you come here. First off, accept this now to make things easier, you aren’t leaving me once you get here. I said you were mine and I meant it. So, make sure you pack anything you can’t live without. There won’t be a way to get it once we’re done. Do not share this information with anyone. I am trusting you, baby, don’t spoil this for me, okay?

Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of everything.

I can’t wait to see you,

Paddy

I knew it was crazy, but his message made my heart flutter. The thought of him finally getting my aunt and uncle off my back sent a wave of excitement through me. I didn’t need to accept the fact that I was his now. I had done that back in Italy. I loved him and I knew I would do anything for him. In the back of my mind I thought about Ciara and where she landed into all of this. Were they getting a divorce soon? Was it going to be a sisterwives type of situation? Were we all going to be together?

I tried not to think about it too much and just focused on counting down the days until we left.

Time seemed to fly by and soon I was sat in the back seat of my uncle’s Tesla, as he drove us down a dark, forest-lined road. We had been in the car most of the day and everyone else was getting tired, but not me. I had only one thing on my mind: seeing Paddy.

Louise and Ben started going back and forth with idea that maybe we were lost or going the wrong way. But the instructions Paddy gave us were pretty straight forward.

“Look, there’s the war monument. Just like he said. Just keep driving, we’re almost there.” I said, pointing out the landmark he had mentioned in his directions.

“Oh, hm, guess you’re right.” Lousie said as we past it.

After that it wasn’t long until we were pulling up to the farm. And there he was. He was stood next to Ciara, arm around her waist, which did hurt a little, but I had to remind myself that that was still his wife. Ant stood in front of them and Paddy had his hand on his shoulder.

I had to stop myself from jumping out of the car the moment it was in park. I waited for Ben to get out first. I ran a hand over my clothes, smoothing them out the best I could after sitting in the car all day, then I opened my door and got out. Ben was already greeting them when I stepped around the car.

“Yn, I’ve missed you!” Ciara said, shocking me at first.

“Hi, Ciara. I missed you, too.” I said, hugging her as she opened her arms to me.

“Hey, bud. You doin’ okay?” I asked Ant, ruffling his hair lightly and he gave me a small nod.

Then I got to Paddy. I froze for a second just staring up into his blue eyes.

“You forget my name or something, darling?” He teased, snapping me out of my trance.

“Never, how are you, Paddy?” I asked, hugging him.

“Wonderful!” He said before openig his arms to hug me.

“Better now that you’re here, love.” He whispered to me as he held me.

The hug was over all too soon as he continued on to welcome Agnes and Louise.

“Well, let’s get inside. Get you all settled into where you’ll be staying then dinner. Oh we have the best dinner planned for you, just you wait.” Paddy said, walking over to the car to help get our bags.

I admittedly had more than one bag. One was much smaller though, containing only my makeup, toiletries, camera and laptop.

“Someone’s an overpacker, I see.” Paddy said, grabbing one of my bags.

“I’m sorry I told her she didn’t need her makeup and stuff but she wouldn’t listen, you know how girls can be.” Lousie said.

“No need to apologize! Just giving her a hard time is all.” Paddy said nudging my shoulder because he knew why my I had an extra bag compared to everyone else.

He and Ciara led us inside and showed us around. The house looked quite large from the outside, but once you were in it felt smaller due its closed off layout, but I quite liked it. It was a nice change from the open layouts I was used to. It felt more homey, more inviting.

“So despite the looks from the outside, we don’t actually have much space… only three bedrooms I’m afraid.” Ciara said.

“We figured, you and Lousie can take the guestroom, the two youngsters can share the loft and Yn can have the livingroom to sleep in. If that’s alright with her, of course.” Paddy added.

I was about to respond when Lousie cut me off, “Oh that’s okay, I’m sure Yn wouldn’t mind sharing the loft with them. I wouldn’t want her intruding on your space down here.”

“Oh nonsense, Lousie. She a grown adult, it’s not fair to shove her up there with the children. Trust me we don’t mind her sleeping down here. That’s why we offered it. Here, come on Yn, right in here.” He said, leaving no room for anyone to object as he led me into the livingroom.

“Here you can set your bags here. And it may not look it, but the couch is way more comfortable than it looks. I’ve had my fair share of nights on the couch, if you know what I mean. Right, Ben?” Paddy said, bumping the man in question with his elbow.

“Oh, um yeah… yeah.” Been replied causing me to roll my eyes. I knew he slept on the couch more often than he cared to admit.

“Alright lets continue the tour, Ciara lead them upstairs please, darling?” He said and she nodded before turning to show us the other rooms.

Paddy waited until everyone was a few paces ahead of us before grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me to him. His lips were on mine in an instant and he let out a small groan into the kiss.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that. Had to stop myself from plating one on ya when you got out of that car.” He said.

“I wouldn’t have complained.” I said back.

“Cheeky,” He shook his head smiling, “We gotta be carful though still. Just for a little longer. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Anything for you, Paddy.” I said, giving him one last peck on the lips before we turned to follow everyone else upstairs.

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goldsainz · 1 month ago

Text

# CS55 — UN BRINDIS POR LA NAVIDAD !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ carlos surprises you with a romantic christmas getaway to a family friend’s vineyard.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ drinking (kinda). mainly just fluff.

003. NOTE !

✯ and so it begins! i’m actually so excited for this and i hope you guys are too, i plan to be consistent with this so pls appreciate my commitment. i don’t plan for these to be long, for there to be second parts, just some cute christmas fluff and that’s it.

word count : 2,1k

The winter sun cast a golden glow over the vineyard on the outskirts of Madrid, the crisp air carrying the faint scent of pine and ripe grapes lingering from the last harvest. Carlos had been unusually secretive for weeks, dropping hints about a surprise. Now, as you stood at the entrance of a sprawling estate surrounded by rows of leafless vines dusted with frost, you realized just how much thought he’d put into this moment.

“Welcome to the vineyard,” he said, grinning as he opened the car door for you. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

A warm greeting from one of the Sainz family’s longtime friends set the start of your holiday getaway. The gentleman, a jovial man with an easy smile and a thick Castilian accent, waved you both in like family. “Ah, Carlos, it’s been far too long! And you,” he said, turning to you, “must be the reason he’s been glowing lately.”

Carlos blushed but didn’t deny it, instead taking your hand and squeezing it. “Come on, I want to show you everything,” he said, his excitement bubbling over.

The estate felt like stepping into a postcard of rustic elegance. The old stone bodega stood proudly at the center, its weathered façade draped with ivy and adorned with hand-carved wooden doors. Inside, the smell of aged oak barrels and fermenting wine filled the air. Barrels were stacked floor-to-ceiling, their dark wood polished smooth with time. Carlos ran his hand over one, explaining how his family had often come here to learn about the winemaking process.

“You can tell a lot about a vineyard by its barrels,” he said, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. “Each one has a story.”

Next, you moved to the tasting room, a cozy sanctuary with a roaring fireplace and walls lined with bottles of wine. Soft Spanish guitar music played in the background, blending seamlessly with the crackle of the fire. Carlos’s friend poured samples of the vineyard’s best offerings—crisp whites, bold reds, and a rosé that tasted like summer in a glass.

Carlos, ever the storyteller, was in his element. “I was probably seven the first time I came here,” he said, swirling a deep crimson wine in his glass. “I remember running through the vines, thinking they went on forever.”

He paused, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “And once, my nonna caught me trying to sneak a sip of wine. She didn’t yell—she just poured me the tiniest drop into a glass and said, ‘Taste it properly or not at all.’” He laughed at the memory, his eyes crinkling in the way that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the hours passed, you found yourself utterly immersed in the world of the vineyard. The family friend led you both through the cellar, and out to a terrace overlooking the countryside. The panoramic view was breathtaking: rows of vines fading into the horizon, hills dusted with snow, and the soft winter sun casting long shadows over the land.

Carlos stood close beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed out landmarks from his childhood. “See that little chapel on the hill? We used to race to the top. I always lost,” he admitted, laughing.

“Hard to imagine you losing a race,” you teased, earning a playful nudge.

The magic of the place wasn’t just in its beauty but in the way Carlos brought it to life with his stories. He wasn’t just showing you the vineyard; he was sharing a part of himself. The way he spoke about his childhood, his family, and the land made you see him in a new light—more grounded, more tender, and impossibly more captivating.

“Do you know what makes this place even better in winter?” Carlos asked, his voice teasing yet warm as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long golden shadows across the vineyard.

“What’s that?” You replied, curiosity lighting up your face.

“Rosquillas de vino,” he announced, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wine donuts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not just wine donuts,” he corrected, grinning. “The best wine donuts you’ll ever taste. And today, I’m going to teach you how to make them.”

Before you could protest—though you had no intention of doing so—he took your hand and led you into a charming little kitchen tucked away in the bodega. The space was as inviting as the rest of the estate, with wooden beams overhead, copper pots hanging from the walls, and a large farmhouse table set with everything you’d need: flour, sugar, olive oil, and, naturally, a bottle of the vineyard’s finest wine.

Carlos wasted no time, rolling up his sleeves with the confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times before. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “First, we mix the dry ingredients.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but it quickly became apparent that Carlos was in his element. His hands moved deftly, measuring and mixing with practiced ease. Meanwhile, you struggled to keep up, spilling flour on the table and accidentally adding too much sugar to your bowl.

“Hey, it’s not a competition,” Carlos teased, nudging you with his elbow as he began to knead the dough.

“Good thing,” you shot back, laughing. “You’d win by a mile.”

The banter continued as you both worked side by side. Carlos’ dough seemed to come together effortlessly, forming smooth, perfect rings that he laid neatly on a tray. Yours, on the other hand, looked more like abstract art.

He glanced over and tried to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? Because these… are unique.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully swiping a handful of flour and tossing it at him. It landed squarely on his shoulder, leaving a white streak on his dark sweater.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” he said, raising an eyebrow and scooping up his own handful of flour.

Before you could react, he dusted it lightly over your hair. You gasped in mock outrage, grabbing another handful, and within moments, a full-blown flour war broke out. Laughter echoed through the kitchen as flour flew in every direction, covering both of you in a fine white powder.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” you accused, giggling as he reached over and smudged a streak of flour across your cheek.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning. “But look how cute you are with flour on your face.”

Despite the chaos, the rosquillas made it into the oven. As they baked, filling the kitchen with a warm, sweet aroma, you both took a moment to catch your breath. The table was a disaster zone, and your clothes were beyond saving, but none of it mattered.

Carlos leaned against the counter, his hair dusted with flour and his smile softer now. “See? Told you this would make the place even better.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you brushed a bit of flour off his sleeve. “I don’t know if it’s the donuts or you, but I think you might be right.”

When the sweet treats were finally done, you pulled them out of the oven together, their golden edges glistening with a light dusting of sugar. Carlos took one, broke it in half, and handed you a piece.

“Moment of truth,” he said, watching as you took a bite.

The donut was warm, tender, and subtly sweet with the faintest hint of wine. It was perfect.

“You’re a genius,” you said, savoring the flavor.

“Don’t let my nonna hear you say that,” he replied, laughing. “She’d take all the credit.”

The warmth of the rosquillas, the mess in the kitchen, and the way Carlos looked at you—it all felt incredibly perfect. In that moment, you realized that the donuts were more than just a treat; they were a memory, a piece of Carlos’s life that he was sharing with you. And you couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than that.

The magic of that moment lingered as night fell, casting the vineyard in twilight hues. Carlos took your hand, guiding you outside with a knowing smile. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine, frost, and the rich aroma of wine still clinging to the evening.

What awaited outside took your breath away. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned the trees, their soft glow reflected in the freshly fallen snow. Under the largest tree stood a small table draped in linens, set with two glasses, a bottle of wine, and blankets invitingly draped over the chairs.

“Carlos,” you whispered, touched by the magic he had created.

He smiled, his eyes warm and reflecting the golden light around you. “I wanted tonight to be unforgettable,” he said softly, pulling you closer as the two of you approached the table.

As you settled onto the blanket-draped bench, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. The glow of the lights, the stillness of the vineyard, and the presence of the man beside you created a serenity you hadn’t known you needed.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “when I brought you here, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. This place means a lot to me, but I wanted it to mean something to us.”

“It already does,” you replied, turning to meet his gaze. “Carlos, this is… it’s perfect. Every part of today.”

His face softened, a mixture of relief and adoration. “Good. Because I’ve been planning this for months. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to let anything slip? My friends started betting on how long I’d last before ruining the surprise.”

You laughed, imagining his determination—and struggle—to keep his plans a secret. “Well, I think you deserve all the praise for pulling this off. Today has been more perfect than I could have ever imagined.”

Then, Carlos set his glass down and turned to you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “There’s one more thing I wanted to say,” he murmured, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking again. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. Then, with a small smile playing on his lips, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box. The golden vineyard lights danced across the delicate wrapping. He held it out to you, his fingers brushing against yours as you took it.

“This isn’t what you might be thinking,” he began quickly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m not proposing—yet. But this,” he gestured to the box, “is a promise. A promise that wherever life takes us, you’ll always have a piece of me, just like I’ll always carry a piece of you.”

Your heart raced as you opened the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace nestled inside. The pendant, shaped like a tiny vine leaf, was intricate, it's fine details capturing the beauty of the vineyard that surrounded you. It glinted in the soft light, shinier than the stars and the moon.

Your breath caught, emotion welling up as you took the necklace from his hands. “Carlos…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He clasped it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I want this to be the beginning of something. Not just for tonight, but for every Christmas, every memory, every part of our story.”

Tears filled your eyes as you touched the pendant, feeling the intricate details. “It’s beautiful.” you said, smiling through the tears.

Carlos cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears. “I love you,” he said simply, the weight of the words wrapping around you like a blanket.

“I love you too,” you replied, leaning into his touch as his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss that carried every promise his words had left unsaid.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. As you sat together under the lights, the rosquillas, the wine, the necklace, and the man beside you made the night feel infinite.

Raising your glasses, you toasted to the moment.

“To many more Christmases like this,” you said, your voice filled with hope and love.

“And to us,” Carlos added, his eyes never leaving yours.

The clink of your glasses echoed softly through the still night, a sound that would forever remind you of the Christmas when forever began.

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