#pizza time! — pepper talking

[crossroads-pizza-delivery]

aww, look at the little guy i found! isn’t it adorable?

[kristhekrispy]

does anyone else ever eat spices straight up or

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[tpwk-formula1]

Heyy<3 I'd like a Pizza with Sicilian Crust,RedSauce ,Salami, Basil, Spinach, Broccoli, Roasted Artichokes ,Prosciutto and with that a Dr Pepper,Diet Coke and a littel Dessert

scenario: Lando and reader are dating and just having fun. But Lando wants to try something new and asks reader if he can film them. <3

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating red sauce rough sex salami "Such a little cum slut" basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” prosciutto "I love making this pretty pussy squirt" dr pepper dirty talk diet coke recording dessert yes served by Lando Norris

AN - OKAY! So I went a bit insane with this one and totally did something completely different and I really hope you like it! Any of the words in italics are a part of the scene and if it is regular that means it is either plot or current time!

Lando x gf! reader

TW - rough sex, sweet sex, oral (m & f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, face fucking, breath play, creampie, THERES A LOT GOING ON, MDNI 18+

WC 3300+

Y/N POV

"So I was thinking about something I think would be fun to try," Lando tells me softly making me perk my head up.

"You do that?" I question softly making Lando stare at me a bit confused.

"Do what?" He questions back after a few seconds of not understanding.

"Think. You think?" I joke making Lando instantly scoff and roll his eyes at my antics.

"You muppet," Lando groans before busting out into a little fit of giggles with me.

"Anyways, I was thinking maybe one of these times in the future I could maybe film us? I totally understand if you aren't comfortable I just would love to have a film of us together," Lando tells me softly making my face grow slightly hot at the thought of being filmed.

"Well like, would someone else have to film us? Will anyone see it? I just have a few questions," I tell Lando softly not shooting down his idea but not agreeing without clarification.

"No one would need to film us, we can hold the camera or get a tripod and I would never let anyone see it," Lando tells me softly making me nod my head letting him know I understand.

"Can I have some time to think about it?" I ask not fully sure I am comfortable with the idea just yet.

"Of course love! Whenever you know or think you're ready to do it we can rediscuss," Lando tells me softly while pulling me into his lap and placing a few soft kisses on my lips.

It has been a couple weeks since Lando had asked me if he could film us and with 2 back to back triple headers coming up I figured this break would be the best time to film some content so the both of us can have it while Lando is out traveling, especially since I'll only be able to go to a couple of his last races.

"Love, I have an idea," I tell Lando softly crawling into his lap and making him raise a brow for me to continue.

"Go on," Lando urges while I bite my lips letting the nerves get to me.

"You know how you wanted to film us having sex, I was thinking since we were gonna be traveling a bunch this next month while you're on break we could film little scenes and snippets in different places and then I can edit it all together so instead of it just being one time we have sex it's like I don't know how many, we have a lot of sex," I ramble making Lando smile at my last comment.

"Are you sure?" Lando asks me making me nod my head.

"Ya, I think it would be nice to have when you're away," I admit softly while my cheeks heat up realizing that I just admitted to touching myself when he was away.

"Oh my god, my once innocent girlfriend is admitting to touching herself when I'm away," Lando says with a smirk making my face heat up even further.

"Lando," I say while swatting at his chest softly.

"Do you get into our toys too?" Lando with an even more menacing look in his eyes.

"Don't act like I have noticed things go missing when you're away," I tell him softly with a raised brow. We both start laughing lightly. We had definitely sent enough pictures and videos throughout the year of us dating to know damn well we both touched ourselves when he was away but it was truly the first time we had talked about it.

"Can I make a request?" Lando asks softly.

"Ya of course, love," I reply making Lando's face heat in embarrassment just thinking about what he's about to ask.

"I kinda want a video of you touching yourself in the edit," Lando tells me softly making my face heat just thinking about touching myself in front of Lando.

"I'll film one of myself too and you don't have to do it in front of me. I actually would love for it to be a surprise," Lando continues making me relax slightly.

"Okay, I'll film is when you least expect it and it can be a surprise for you," I agree making Lando's face heat up at the thought.

"I think we have time to make our first film," Lando says with a smirk making me laugh lightly be quickly agree.

It's been almost a month since we came up with the plan and Lando leaves for Austin tomorrow which means tonight I give Lando our movie we created.

"Lan, come to the room when you have the rest of the night to yourself," I tell Lando softly peaking into the sim room where he was streaming with Max Fewtrell.

"Okay, do you need me right now? I can get off!" Lando tells me quickly making me laugh when I can hear Max telling Lando he was too damn wipped.

"No, it can wait! Enjoy your stream," I tell him softly.

"I'll be on no more than an hour," Lando tells me making me smile and retreat back into our room where I went into the bathroom and started getting ready.

I did my makeup and hair before I changed into a new lingerie set I knew Lando would love. Once I was all ready Lando was knocking on the bathroom door and asking if I was in there.

"Ya, just give me a minute," I tell him softly while taking a pic in the mirror and saving it for when Lando is away before typing my black silk robe around my body and heading out of the bathroom.

"Where are you going? I thought we were gonna be hanging out," Lando tells me softly making me laugh and shake my head.

"We are, just was bored while you were streaming," I lie softly knowing damn well I just wanted to look good for this moment.

"So I finished editing the video and its kinda long but I wanted to watch it with you," I tell him softly watching his face light up.

"I really hope you like it," I tell him softly making him pull me into his lap so I was stratting him.

"I'm gonna love it! You're the star of the film, nothing better than that," Lando tells me with a smile before pulling me in for a kiss and then letting me turn around so I was sat between his legs letting my back rest against my chest while I load up the 45-minute video of some of our sex adventures the last few weeks.

Scene 1 - Taken right after they agreed to make the video

"Oh fuck Lan," I moan looking right into the camera that Lando was holding and angling it to make sure to get all of my upper body in the shot.

"Fuck, it's like you were made just for me huh? always taking ym cock so well," Lando grunts in reply making me moan out louder.

"Lan I might cum again," I moan out making Lando's thrusting speed up while he brings one of his hands down to my clit where he teases it while I fall over the edge all around his cock.

That's where the video ended and a new scene was in front of us.

Scene 2 - Taken later that night right before we left for dinner. Quicky in the bathroom mirror

"Fucking hell, so goddamn tight," Lando grunts making me throw my head back with my eyes closed.

"No, fucking watch us," Lando says aggressively while he takes ahold of my hair and makes me watch Lando fuck into me from behind.

I was doing my best to hold the camera steady but I was failing miserably so Lando takes it from my hand and continues to fuck into my pussy from behind making sure to focus the camera on my face and the way my tits are bouncing around with each thrust.

"Fuck Lan," I moan loudly when I start cumming all over Lando's cock. He quickly pulls out of my soaked pussy and angles the camera to show him painting my ass with his cum.

We hadn't planned to fuck before dinner but with the idea of making a movie for each other, we were like little teenagers again fucking any chance we could.

Scene 3 - On a yacht off the Meddeteraian coast.

"Lando!" I scream feeling myself fall over the edge again squirting my pleasure all over Lando and the expensive couch we currently were on.

Lando had propped the camera up on the couch making sure to get his and my lower half in the frame of the camera.

"I love making this pretty pussy squirt," Lando groans after watching me squirt for the third time in a row.

"I want you to cum for me again," Lando groans against my lips.

"It's too much," I whine but Lando only speeds his actions up taking me over the edge rather quickly.

"Fuck squirting so much you could fill the sea," Lando teases.

That last comment had both Lando and I laughing lightly.

"Can't believe you kept that in. So embarrassing," Lando whispers into my ear while squeezing my waist a bit tighter.

"I thought it was a good comedic relief. I edited out most of the silly comments you say," I tell him making him groan realizing his post-nut clarity most of the time turns him into a comedian.

Scene 4 - In Y/N's childhood bedroom after visiting family.

"Fuck watching you with your niece is gonna make you a mother," Lando groans while pumping into my tight pussy.

"Fuck Lan," I moan once the words sink in.

"You want that? You want me to give you my babies," Lando grunts through staggered moans letting the pleasure get to him.

"Yes please," I gasp out trying to keep my volume down not wanting my parents to hear us.

"Fuck, I'm close. Please cum with me," Lando grunts out while bringing 2 fingers down to my clit and giving it a rub in small circles bringing the both of us over the edge. As we are cumming Lando grabs the camera from the little stand it was on and brings it to show my face as I'm cumming.

“I'm gonna put a baby in you,” Lando grunts as he continues to fuck my pussy through both of our orgasms.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like that," Lando grunts sending one last thrust deep into my pussy before slowly slipping out and putting the camera close to my core so the camera can pick up his cum slowly leaking from my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Lando grunts before the video is cut off.

"That was some of the best sex we've had," Lando groans out making me smile.

"Ya it was," I reply softly leaning back farther making Lando grunt out. I wiggle aroung for a second and that's when I feel it. Lando was hard. I just smirk wiggling around another second before Lando is gripping my hips to stop my movement.

"Don't act up," Lando roughly whispers into my ear.

Scene 5 - Lando's apartment after playing paddle with Max Verstappen

"Why the fuck would you do that," Lando says towering over me kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"Lando, I didn't do anything! I was just talking to Max," I reply looking straight up at him.

Lando set up the tripod at the end of the bed and it was currently angled down so it could catch me on my knees on the floor.

"You didn't do anything? Cause from what I seen was you getting all up and close with Max when I went to the bathroom," Lando's voice booms out into the room making me whimper at his anger.

"Lando he was showing me something on his phone," I argue back only making Lando roughly slap my tit.

"No more talking," Lando says before roughly shoving his cock into my mouth making me gag instantly around his cock.

I could feel Lando's hip starting to shift a little trying to grind into my back.

"Of all things you using me is what's getting you to dry hump me like a hormonal teenager," I say shifting my head slightly looking at Lando as his face flushes red and instantly stop his actions.

"Oh you can continue. Be a good boy and keep grinding," I say confidently making Lando groan and start bucking again.

"You'll pay for your little comment later," Lando grunts into my ear and I giggle lightly.

Scene 5 Cont.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Lando grunts as he continues to fuck my face making tears run down my cheeks.

Lando roughly shoves his cock deep into my throat and holds his hips completely cutting off all of my airflow. I count the seconds in my head and once I reach 12 seconds Lando yanks his cock out making me gag and start coughing.

"Fuck," I cough out trying to get as much air as possible.

"We're going again," Lando grunts tangling his hand in my hair again before shoving his cock back in.

Lando roughly fucks my throat making me continnously gag and cry around his cock. My face has become a complete mess ruining any speck of makeup I had on.

I was a true and proper whore for Lando in this moment and I loved every second of it.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," Lando grunts before he shoves his cock all the way into my throat and unleashes a massive load down my throat. I swallow as best I can with Lando so deep. Once he pulls out of my mouth I make sure to collect as much cum off his cock before opening my mouth and showing him the cum pooling in my mouth.

I watch as Lando gathers a large wad of spit in his mouth before leaning down and slowly spitting it into my mouth mixing his spit with his cum.

"Hm, you're such a little cum slut. Swallow," Lando finally says making me close my mouth and swallow his cum and spit mixure.

"I think that's the sluttiest thing I've ever done," I admit softly when the scene in front of us ends. Lando had stopped his grinding as soon as he saw himself shove his cock all the way in my mouth cutting my airflow off. I think when you're in the moment everything seems so normal but then watching it back you realize how rough it really is.

"Do I do that often," Lando asks softly making me shift my body to face him realizing he needed a serious moment.

"Cut my air flow off? Not often but love, it is not something you have to change. If it was I would have asked you to stop. We have safe words and safe actions to get us out of every scene we ever do, I haven't used it for a reason," I tell Lando softly while stroking his cheek. I can tell he's not convinced but he's become more relaxed.

"I didn't realize that was what you looked like when you were struggling for air," Lando admits making me smile softly.

"Pretty slutty huh?" I joke I try lightening the mood while also pulling him in for a kiss trying to show him that I was really okay with it.

"Promise, you don't mind it?" Lando asks softly.

"Promise!" I reply back with a smile turning back around to face the laptop once again.

Scene 6 - Home alone while visiting Lando's parents

"Lan! They might come home," I whisper against Lando's lips as he pulls my body even closer to his.

We were in the pool enjoying the sun when Lando set up the camera right on the poolside clearly showing his intentions.

"They won't I promise," Lando replies while lifting my body out of the water and onto the edge of the pool. Lando changes the camera angle to make sure to get his next actions in the frame.

"We'll be quick if you're worried," Lando replied while pulling off the bottoms to my bikini leaving my lower half completely bare. Lando instantly brings his mouth down to my clit giving it a strong suck and making me whine.

"Fuck," I moan softly when I feel Lando shift his hands to the front of my robe teasing me over my lingerie. Lando's mind finally registers that he's feeling lingerie instead of my regular thong so he's pulling the front of my robe open to see his gift under.

"I'm surprised it took you this long," I reply with a smirk when he's opened the robe to see a specially made lingerie set to have similar accents to his Hungarian GP helmet.

It was a pretty light blue set with little hand-sewn embellishments to look like the hand-painted flowers that littered the helmet.

"Fuck baby, how did you even get this?" Lando asks softly when he realizes it is more than a light blue set.

"Made just for you," I reply with a smirk making him groan and throw his head back.

"You're the best. One of the most thoughtful things ever," Lando replies back softly as he brings his hand back down to my pussy and starts teasing me over my panties.

"Already soaked for me," I feel Lando smirk against my ear.

Cont scene 6

"Lan, feel so good," I gasp when I feel Lando softly push 2 fingers into my busy making me gasp at the feeling.

"I want you to cum," Lando grunts into my pussy sending a whole new wave of pleasure coursing through my body.

"Oh god," I cry out when Lando speeds up his actions bringing me closer to my orgasm.

"Cum for me," Lando roughly tells me sending me straight into a squirting orgasm.

"Fuck," I scream out as I watch my pleasure spray all over Lando and into the pool soaking him with more than just the pool water.

"Good fucking girl," Lando says while riding my orgasm out before he's slipping his fingers out and slipping them into his mouth to clean them off.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," Lando says roughly while slipping his fingers out of my lingerie and turning me around so I can face Lando.

I pull him in for a kiss while I feel him pulling his boxers and sweats down to reveal his leaking cock.

I'm instantly climbing fully into his lap with my lingerie pulled to the side so I can sink down taking all of Lando's cock deep into my pussy.

"Fuck I don't think I'm gonna last long," Lando grunts when I start bouncing on his cock clearly pent up from watching some of our sex over the past month.

"Me either," I moan loudly bouncing faster while Lando brings a hand between our bodies and starts teasing my clit knowing that will throw me over the edge far faster than anything else.

"Fuck Lando," I cry out as I feel my orgasm start to build at an embarrassing rate.

"I'm gonna cum," Lando grunts bucking his hips up to meet my thrusts trying to bring the both of us over the edge quicker.

"Oh fuck," I scream out as I start cumming all over Lando's cock pulling him with me and making him bury his cock deep in my pussy and filling it up with his cum.

"Fuck," Lando grunts making me sigh in contentment.

"The rest of the video can be a surprise. I wanna spend my last night between these thighs," Lando tells me softly still fully seated on his cock.

"Deal," I reply softly pulling him in for a kiss while we relax until the next round.

True to Lando's words we did go at it almost all night not stopping until we saw the first light of the sun rising.

[cherriesformatt]

vlog day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.

warnings: none

word count: 1,1k

a/n: have a good day ily

“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.

I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.

“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.

“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.

“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.

“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.

“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.

“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.

“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.

“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.

“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.

“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.

“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.

I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.

“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.

“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.

It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.

“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.

He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.

When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.

“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.

“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.

“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.

“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.

We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.

“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.

“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.

“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.

“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.

“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.

“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.

“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.

I looked at him and laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.

“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.

“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.

“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.

“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Shut up it was once” I said.

“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.

“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.

“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.

“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.

“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.

“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.

When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.

“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.

“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.

We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.

“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.

“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.

“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.

We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.

“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.

“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.

“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.

“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.

“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.

“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.

When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.

“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.

“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.

“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.

“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.

“Movie night!” I said happily.

He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.

[tinytennisskirt]

best friend!patrick zweig who is totally not in love with you…

headcanons with a plot <3

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, marijuana, smoking, casual touches, jealousy, and silent yearningggg

- insists that he drives you home even if you’re the slightest bit tired. you yawn at his place- you’re not driving home. he says it’s to keep you safe but really, he just wants more time with you.

“it’s like twenty minutes out, i’ll drive, it’s nothing.”

“i’m perfectly fine to drive! i just yawned, i’m not tired.”

his foot is down. “yeah, that’s not happening.”

“you’re going to take a bus home? patrick…”

“i’ll take a taxi if it makes you feel better?”

“uh huh.”

- he follows the sidewalk rule. he’s never heard of it before but he does it, just on his own.

- saves you the last slice or even bite of anything he’s eating that’s worth it. he orders a really good burger, the very last bit left is yours. ordering a pizza, the last slice is yours. even a slice of cheesecake, the last bite is yours. bonus points to him for making sure the last bite contains all elements of what he had. the burger has all toppings left on the last bite, the cheesecake has the crust and the caramel drizzle, etc.

- doesn’t get why you choose such shitty men to go out with and waste your best dresses for the wrong eyes. he plays it off as caring about you, but he’s jealousss

“i have another date tonight with tony,” you tell him. he looks up from the can of ravioli he’s opening.

“tony with the hair or tony with the fake hair?”

you tsk, “with the hair.”

“the guy with the weird moustache who runs the laundromat? really?”

“he’s nice!”

“just nice shouldn’t cut it. and doesn’t he have the weird butt-chin thing? come on.”

“he treats me well! compliments me, pays for things…”

“yeah okay, with the laundromat money, you’re sure it’s not going on credit?”

by the end of the conversation he’s telling you that you look nice, a little defeated, but he means it. he can’t talk you out of it truly without first admitting he likes you and secondly, admitting to you he likes you.

- he’s always down to spend time with you. he might say he’s busy but he’s not. and when he is, he moves things around just to see you, but he won’t tell you that.

- he buys the drinks you like just to keep them in the fridge. he buys more every time he goes out so the stock of it keeps growing and soon enough it’s taking up two shelves in his fridge.

“i’m going to make something to eat for dinner,” you say, opening the fridge. and the fridge is near-full of your favourite drink. he usually gets it for you, you’d assume he just had a few but no. he has so many. and the thing is, he doesn’t like the drinks. so it’s just really weird. there’s a million of your drinks and then in the empty spaces, ketchup, mustard, milk, ground beef, cheese, and two red peppers next to the can of opened redbull. what for? who knows. you walk back out to where patrick is sitting and he looks up from his phone.

“we can get groceries. don’t have much right now,” he reaches for his keys and you laugh just a little, which stops him. you hold up one of the drinks and he just stares at it, knowing you know about the shelves upon shelves of it. “they were on sale, fuck off.”

- any time you’ve slept at his place he either gives up his bed and sleeps on the couch, or if you fall asleep on the couch you always wake up the next morning with a comfy blanket over you and a proper pillow under your head. he won’t move you, he’s too afraid to wake you. or on nights when you know you’re staying over or even on a whim, he’s used to giving you his clothes to sleep in because he knows you like the fit of them. they’re comfortable.

- without you coming over, patrick wouldn’t do any of his chores. he’s only motivated by the idea that you might come over and think he’s a slob. you already know he’s a slob, but he does a good job at hiding it. it always smells a bit like febreeze when you come over and not that you mind it- it smells good. but it can’t mask the slight cigarette scent and the scent of his cologne which is without a doubt on every surface he’s ever layed on.

- he’s the guy you can go to for honest opinions because he’ll always shamelessly side with you. a fight with a friend who was clearly in the wrong? he doesn’t even try to see the other perspective, he’s on your side no matter what. your ex and his new girl? he thinks she’s ugly and a downgrade and he’s an asshole for posting the grocery store flowers he got for her. he’s jealous, but he’s good knowing your ex fumbled you.

“they’re yellow.”

“he got her yellow chrysanthemums?”

you chuckle and look at him. “you know what flowers those are?”

“saw them the other day at the store. on sale, $5. same ones, look at the wrapping.” he says, pointing at the laptop. “he’s broke and she doesn’t even know it.”

you laugh. he’s glad to hear it.

- when you go out to bars he pays for your drinks. says you deserve it- you do come over and cook all the time so why not?

- patrick is known to crack a few jokes but when you’re serious, so is he. you’re upset? he’s listening, he won’t make fun of you unless he knows it’ll make you feel better. he’ll sit next to you, let you talk, cry, get really angry, get really sad. he’s there. and he’ll comfort you in whichever way you need. it’s his softer side, the one you bring out. lets you lean against him, he’ll even hug you if you ask.

- he’s a GOOD HUGGER. he gives amazing hugs, they are so enveloping, so comfortable. his arms wrap all the way around and not only do his arms squeeze you the perfect amount of tight, but his hands as well. he’s always warm but not hot, and he smells like good cologne and slightly of cigarettes. he’ll take any chance to hug you and you’ll gladly have it.

- struggling not to think about fucking you when you’re trying on dresses for a date. he’s thinking ‘what will these guys think when they see you?’ and his mind is on one thing that they’ll be thinking. but his mind is on it too, when you come out in a little black tube dress and you ask him if it’s too short. it’s too short for sure.

“what about the cleavage though? too much? not enough?”

“hm?” he’s not paying attention to your words.

“the cleavage. too much?”

“yeah. maybe try a turtleneck.”

yeah yeah it’s wrong to think about sex with your best friend, but the dresses, each shorter and showing more skin than the next we’re making him so incredibly horny. he doesn’t do well with that. goes home and fucks his own hand at the thought. helps to distract himself from the fact you’re out on a date with someone else who might actually get to take off that dress :(

- he’ll show up at your place with whatever it is you say you’ve been wanting and he will make a night out of it. wings? he’s at your door with them in an hour. drinks? yeah he stopped for a six pack of whatever he grabbed. he’s always down to get food. you want to go out? he’ll pick you up to go get whatever it is you’ve been wanting. a good excuse to actually work on bulking. not that it’s date-like.

- he’s got a photo of you in his wallet. it’s a platonic thing, he swears to the girl he takes on a date. she’s pretty but she’s not you. the photo of you sitting pretty with a potted plant doesn’t give off ‘available’ and yeah he kisses her but she is not you. he leaves early and calls you on his way back. he’s pretty sure he’s fucked forever because he’s realizing he only wants you.

- he’s protective at parties. he’s already watching you dance and have fun but when you come there with him and start flirting with guys it provokes him just a little more than it would if he were sober. he’ll walk over and slip his arm around your shoulder or even your waist if he’s had enough to drink and he’ll ask the guy how he’s doing and he’s 100% running interference pretending he’s just out of it from the alcohol and it isn’t the fact he’s jealous.

“hey man,” patrick usually greets the guy, hand resting on the small of your back. he’s always got a big smirk on his face, tongue against his cheek. “what’s up?” the move usually scares the guy off and you playfully hit or elbow him, but it’s worth it.

- his doors are always open to you. you have a key if you need it. so when you show up, soaked from the rain, upset over tony the laundromat guy being the dick patrick was so right about him being (despite not knowing the guy at all), he wraps you in his arms and he listens to the whole story. you’re complaining about genuine men being so hard to find and he’s sitting right there. he just brings his hand to rest against his jaw and looks off to the side at something as you continue speaking and he’s listening, he just hates what he’s hearing.

- he’ll take off whatever jacket he’s wearing if you’re cold. he won’t be happy about it- or look happy about it, but he might be a little happy about it… he’ll complain about what he’s going to do in the cold but the sweater or jacket is on you within five minutes of your ask.

- he’ll begrudgingly do whatever you ask of him. like he does not want to get up at 4:50 in the morning and drive to the hilltop to watch the sunrise. he wants to stay asleep, snoring in his bed, but you wake him up and he hates it, but it’s you and it’s the sunset so he goes with you. but in his still-tired state all he can seem to focus on is the light of the sunrise hitting your skin. he’ll either do it super slowly or begrudgingly, sometimes he might even say no. but it never stays a no.

- again. can’t stand that you keep giving your time to men who don’t know how to treat you. he goes to the bar, he drinks about it a little, he talks to the bartender about you. the bartender knows you by name, knows your favourite album, knows you go out with guys who aren’t him, and he knows you’re beautiful, having your features described by a drunk patrick who uses his hands a lot to gesture. it’s weird when you go to the bar with patrick another night and the bartender already knows your name and the drink you want.

- drunk patrick uses all the self control he has not to tell you he wants you. he almost lets it slip with unfinished sentences. does everything he can to fend himself off, but he’s very close to you when he’s drunk, his already-bad spatial awareness so much worse while impaired. his face always close to yours, nose sometimes hitting yours, he comes so close. hands reach for your waist when he’s near you. you don’t mind it- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. it’s a different feeling. you manage to wrangle him into his bed and make him drink water. he’s talking to you like there are important things you need to know before he absolutely passes out.

“if that tony guy comes around again i hope he knows i owe him a broken nose,” he’ll say and he’s grinning and you’re just rolling your eyes at him, he’s so stupid. “you have to stop dating these guys, fucking douchebags. i know i’m not much better, but at least i don’t wear axe body spray and pick you up in a beat up honda.”

“patrick, you drive a honda,”

“mine isn’t beat up.” he says. so honest. you laugh at him and hand him back the cup of water. but he says it, “you deserve more than that kind of guy. want you to have someone who really gives a fuck, you know?”

“if i could find one,” you say. half-oblivious, half-looking for him to say something that’ll have meaning. it’s the first time his drunk mind is telling him the feeling in his chest is heartache. oh my god, he feels like such a girl- he just grins, dimples on his cheek crawling all the way up. he covers his face.

- when you’re hanging out with mutual friends, smoking, talking, he’s always taking the seat next to you. your friends all know he’s into you- most of them suspect you’re already dating on the down low, the way you guys are so close. you’re sitting on the couch and his arm is up on the back of the couch behind you, your hand sometimes resting on his leg, you have your own conversations on the side and you’re laughing and leaning toward each other. it’s obvious. he’s obvious. YOU are obvious. and oblivious! painfully.

- patrick will shave his beard for your birthday. he’ll trim it regularly but on your birthday he shaves it all off, it’s an annual thing. bare-faced and you find it so so fun to see him without.

- the dress you wear on your birthday is a little too perfect. the mix of you and your hair done and your makeup and the intention of drinking with your girl friends and asking him how you look before you leave. you usually ask him before you go out. he’s going out with you and your friends, but he comes over a little early, just how things are. he’s always honest.

“you look… wow.” he’s looking at you. you’re standing in front of him, little dress, perfectly fit to your body. and you’re smiling, doing a little spin. and you’re beautiful and god you’re so fucking hot. patrick fears for the possibility of his sober thoughts becoming drunk words later. you’re already unbearably fucking beautiful what is he going to do with himself?

- he’s a touchy drunk. not with everyone, not the same way he is with you. when he drinks his hands are magnetic to you, resting on your hands, hand on the small of your back, your waist, your arm. like i said before, you’re used to it, you don’t mind it, but it’s different when he’s staying somewhat sober because he’s afraid of how he’d act if he had more than three shots. he wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with- it’s not that, it’s the fact he’s scared if he drinks tonight that you in your element, dancing, laughing, having fun in that little dress would provoke him to spill all of his secrets. he’s got a stoic form of self-understanding he’s taking to prevent anything dumb from falling out of his mouth under the influence.

- he does, however, fend off the creepy guys or just the assholes who try and buy you more drinks or even talk to you. he won’t let them get so far as to ask for your name. you whine but he just tells you, “you wouldn’t want to talk to them sober.” and you’re like hmm true. the defender position includes closing your tab, getting you home, and getting you inside safely. and usually you take care of him when he’s drunk or high, but he takes the opportunity very seriously. before he’s helped you get to bed but this particular time you’re asking him to undo the zipper on your dress and you’re lifting your hair.

he’s not going to tell you no, so he undoes the zipper and in seconds you’re stripping in front of him unabashedly and he turns around, arms folded, grinning to himself because of course this was happening. he is not an asshole, so he won’t turn around until you’re dressed, but when he turns around you’re only in one of his shirts that he’s been wondering where it went- and your underwear and you’re asking him to come sit with you because it’s still technically your birthday (it’s not).

he will, but he doesn’t want to stick around too long. despite the lack of alcohol, there’s still a pull to tell you how he feels, but that’s girly. and you’re drunk. he puts you to bed after making you drink water.

- he’s the kind of guy to keep a condom in his wallet- he’s never going to use it, it’s probably expired and worn in front his wallet being in his pocket but he has it in there. in fact it’s right behind the photo of you.

- he also has a stolen street sign in his living room from when he was on tour after high school. it’s custom for all guests visiting his place to slap it before they enter the room. if you don’t, there’s no consequences, but it’s just wrong not to. he will, however, catch YOU on it if you forget. holds you to it in whichever way he can.

- he’s totally debating on kissing you almost every time he’s with you. it’s getting progressively worse every time he’s with you he swears he’s going to do it but he doesn’t want to. (he wants to sooo fucking badly, it’s insane). any time you pass him by, every time you say his name, when you sit next to him, when you’re talking to him about anything, engaging with him, looking him in his eyes. it’s a struggle not to.

and you’re friends, longtime friends so the casual touches get to be too much, even. you cup his face with your hands saying he needs to shave and he’s only staring at your lips.

or you sit sideways next to him on the couch facing him and your hand is on his shoulder and you’re so close to him when you talk he really could just reach over and kiss you.

you sit on his counter while he’s making spaghetti and you’re eating the shredded cheese out of the bag and it’s weird but the height your at, it would be perfect.

- you are the cause of his biggest grins and most laughter. you don’t even have to try. he enjoys your company more than anyone else’s. platonically, romantically, in every way. you are his best friend. you get him on a level even art didn’t.

- he’ll pick you up whenever you need him to. doctors appointment, from a friend’s- so when your self-proclaimed final attempt at a date ends up terribly, he’s the first person you call. you’re all pretty for another piece of shit and patrick has to pretend he’s not happy the guy was so weird. you get in the car and his eyes fall on your collarbone and your thighs and you yourself catch it. his eyes. you pull a knowing little look. “shut up,” he says, driving away without even letting you get your seatbelt on.

- he’s not a door holder very often. maybe for old ladies and kids, and the occasional friend, but he’s holding every door open for you. he even opens the car door for you most times. get back to his place, you don’t want to go home yet, he holds the door for you on your way in. you hit the street sign on the wall before flopping down on his couch. it smells like citrusy febreeze and a bit like his cologne. out of his personal needs of restraint, he tosses you one of his comfy shirts and shorts so you can be out of that little dress. and after you take them to his bathroom to get changed, he’s still feeling the same way about the way you look. it was not the dress’ fault.

- the thing with patrick and other women is he’s never been afraid to go up to a girl, hit on her, he’s hardly been afraid to kiss a girl. he’s pretty confident all around but you are so different. the need to kiss you is all-consuming. he wonders if he should talk to you about things first when he’s never considered more than the flavour of a girl’s lip balm in the past. you make him nervous, sitting there in his clothes. i say there, but you’re next to him, hair behind your ears, talking about how you think you’re done with dating and you’re going to wait until the perfect guy falls into your lap. you’re playing some angle but he’s thinking that it’s a good thing. the conversation turns to joking, he’s teasing you, you tease back it’s just normal.

- of course patrick has a snack pantry. if he doesn’t have groceries, he has snacks. at a random point in conversation you tell him you could really go for an oreo right now and he’s so on that. so you both take a trip to the kitchen and you’re looking in the cabinet and you find the oreos and share them while continuing to talk at the counter. you’re going on about how strange your date was and how you felt if you stayed you’d be on a true crime document and the conversation begins to turn to thanking him for coming to get you. but like mentioned before, he’d always come get you. didn’t matter how far you were but he wouldn’t say that.

“it’s different, it’s not like you picking me up from the dentist, it’s you picking me up when i know you were busy.” you say. he smiles because he really wasn’t that busy- he was just out with friends of course he’d drop them for you. “i just want you to know i’m grateful is all.”

“don’t need to be-“ he says with his mouth full of oreo. “it was nothing, i was nearby anyway.” he wasn’t. he sped. in his honda.

“you’re so weird,” you giggle. “why can’t you just be normal about people thanking you for things you do? you go out of your way far too often.”

patrick chuckles to himself, shutting the package of oreos. he doesn’t do it for anyone else. “how do i be normal about it?”

“you could say ‘you’re welcome’, maybe?” you say. he nods. “i say i’m grateful for you and the things you do for the people you care about, namely me and you say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“we’re rehearsing?” he straightened himself as if getting ready and you pressed your hand to your forehead, smiling. “go for it. say how grateful you are for me and the things i do for you. only you.”

“so stupid, just say you’re welcome.” you giggle, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. he grins, a sly grin, dimple on full display, gorgeous. he turns away from you to put away the oreos (if you weren’t there he wouldn’t have put them away). he shuts the cabinet door. “patrick?”

“yeah?”

and he’s met with your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

- the way patrick kisses is very passionately. that’s who he is. he kissed a lot of girls in high school, met a few on tour that were worth making out with. his kisses are full of passion. but this kiss is from you, so he receives it like a gift. surprisingly politely. he’s never ever been caught so off-guard by a kiss. he didn’t see it coming at all. it’s a small kiss, a few seconds of lips fitting together perfectly, but you pull away. his face stays close to yours. he’s never had a kiss like this before. in the crowd of girls he’s ever kissed. it’s never felt like this. and it was so small.

“i’m sorry,” you say, hushed, but you’re smiling, so how sorry are you? he grins and in an instant, you’re kissing again, deeper, more, hands in his hair and his on your waist, holding tight. it’s all he’s thought about for a month on end. there’s something better than drugs and it’s this, patrick thinks. your back against the pantry door, him against you.

- he’s never been so in need of a kiss before. he’s never been kissed like this before. it’s somehow everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s never gotten from every girl he’s ever kissed. and the thing about patrick is, like mentioned, he’s a moderately horny guy but this to him is all he wants. he only wants to kiss you. a few minutes pass and he’s doing something he’s never done and that’s talking it out with you. but as soon as he admits he likes you, he’s telling you to shut up because you’re giggling and it’s adorable and you can’t be calling him out on his crush like that…

- you admit to being a little oblivious and maybe admitting to repressing feelings because you weren’t entirely sure- and he’s instantly on making fun of you for it. he makes fun of himself for not seeing it sooner or for making a move sooner but there’s no room for apologies between another kiss. a kiss full of laughter where you just can’t stop laughing but you also won’t stop kissing him and it’s kind of perfect.

[addicsvt]

11:11 pm

pairing - established relationship | husband mingyu x reader genre - fluff/angst? word count - 800 warnings - not proof-read, negative thoughts, tiny bit of unspecified mental issues. synopsis - kim mingyu, the man who has never failed to steal your heart. a/n - happy super late birthday to my man <3 can be read as a pt.2 to sincerely yours!

"gyu" you mutter, the nickname spills out of your mouth effortlessly. You don't really know how you ended up like this, how your head ended up on his lap, how you ever got the chance to meet someone as amazing as him, and how you think that you don't deserve him at all. Your getting side-tracked.

"hm?" he questions as you let out another sigh of contentment, you really could stay like this forever. Mingyu is too perfect, he's every girls dream. A pretty man who knows how to cook? Sign the whole female population up. It's times like these where you wonder why he chose you, out of 8 billion people, why you?

"your over-thinking again," he whispers softly, continuing to play with your hair. You always said that you were a closed book, but mingyu somehow managed to read every single page. He knew how you were feeling, he knew when your thoughts would get so loud, he knew when your thoughts would become self de-appreciating. He knew everything.

"i was wondering about something," you mumble. Mingyu knew how to keep you grounded whenever your mind was floating. He wasn't necessarily forcing you to stop over-thinking but when you started thinking negatively about yourself he would ground you, support you, be there for you.

"and what were you wondering about love?" he asks looking down at you with the biggest puppy eyes ever. You think that you might just fall in love with your husband again. He had child-like innocence and you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and pepper his whole face with kisses.

"i was wondering, why do you love me?" you question softly, this question had been running through your head all month day. Out of so many people, why you? He could've went for a prettier female idol, one that could match his status, why you?

"Your asking me that 2 years into our marriage?" He says sarcastically letting out a soft chuckle. To be honest, mingyu loves you for everything. He loves your pretty smile, your pretty eyes, your hair that he has the privilege to play with, your soft lips, everything. He loves your flaws (he doesn't really think they're flaws) too, he loves how you'll keep talking, he loves how you'll take an hour to decide between sushi or pizza, he loves how awkward you are in social settings.

"shut up! can't a girl ask a question" you protest slightly, but you don't really mean it. If someone asked you why you loved mingyu you would come up with a whole 2000 word essay. Mingyu would constantly re-assure you, tell you how pretty you were every single day, flooding your notifications with "ily, come back into my arms asap" messages every single hour.

"If you want the answer, I love everything about you." he began, he knew how cheesy he sounded but he didn't care. Nothing mattered when it came to you.

"that's cheesy." you comment laughing softly, you suddenly felt a finger resting on your lips. If mingyu tried to tell you what he loved about you he would probably run out of breath, you had so many amazing qualities that he would probably need a life-time to list it out.

"it's true though, i love everything about you. your smile, your sweet laugh, every single one of your moles, your dimples, your bread cheeks." He rambled removing his finger from your lips. You were too perfect for him, most days he would be left thinking how someone like you chose him. You were so charming and attractive how did no one else take you before him?? The world was missing out on you.

"shut up... your making me fall in love with you again." you grumble softly, you weren't annoyed, not at all. Mingyu smiled softly, that was his wife right there.

"I can make you fall in love again, wanna see how?" he snickered softly, you knew he was going to do something definitely. You always fed into his antics though, watching him smile like an adorable puppy after getting treats always made your heart melt. That was the main reason why you treated bobpul like he was your own child.

"and how will you do that?" you questioned, adding fuel to the fire. Mingyu didn't respond but smiled softly, trapping your lips in a kiss.

Mingyu has kissed you many times, but this time feels different. Your hair is messy, his hair is messy. Your wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, bare-faced. But when he sweeps you into a kiss it makes your heart beat faster than it should've. Something about the suddenness of the kiss almost sent your heart into cardiac arrest. You were going to sue him for this.

@ADDISCVT 2024

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".

warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!

part two of ravish

There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you. 

However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most. 

Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago. 

Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.

Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting. 

But alas, there’s still no sign of him. 

“Dammit Joel, where are you?” 

You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.

It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.

Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were. 

The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest. 

You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing. 

You did enjoy the punishments that followed though. 

A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile. 

Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic. 

“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch. 

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention. 

It’s him. 

He’s here. 

His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?” 

You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin. 

“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock. 

Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?” 

“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.” 

You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up. 

His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down. 

“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant. 

“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?” 

“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?” 

You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.” 

“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.” 

“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.” 

His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases. 

With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door. 

Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.

With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.

The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.

You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.

As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.

"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.

His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.

Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.

Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely. 

“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.” 

You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"

He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?” 

Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning. 

“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?” 

“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it. 

The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.” 

“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?” 

He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?” 

You remain silent. 

“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” 

“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.” 

“‘bout what?” 

His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch. 

“I really really like you, you know.” 

“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” 

You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words. 

“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .” 

You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?” 

“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.” 

“Well. .  . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.” 

“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly. 

His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.  

“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.” 

“R-Really?” 

He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.” 

Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas. 

Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?” 

“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?” 

“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.

“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.” 

The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.

You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?” 

His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.” 

All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see. 

“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.” 

Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista. 

The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless. 

Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought. 

Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?” 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now? 

“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn. 

It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare. 

“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?” 

Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on. 

“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible. 

“I love your streams!” 

“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.” 

“Can I get a picture?” 

Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead. 

You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.” 

Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star. 

His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?” 

“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook. 

“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest. 

“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?” 

“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”

“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly. 

Joel snarls, “Assholes.” 

“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest. 

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?” 

“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.” 

“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?” 

Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.

You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.

Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.

Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.

"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs. 

You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.

"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."

He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . .  know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already. 

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.” 

Mine. 

One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were. 

Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead. 

“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.” 

No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.

You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop. 

That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.

The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes. 

His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly,  showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.

"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?” 

The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask. 

Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood. 

“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.” 

His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?” 

"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"

You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."

His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.” 

Oh, fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.

Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling. 

“Go and start the stream, honey.” 

Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds. 

With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.

"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."

You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree. 

You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds. 

“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?” 

His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous. 

But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.” 

Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response. 

A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—

His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort. 

Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases. 

His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back. 

“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.” 

Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact. 

Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue. 

Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin. 

Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?” 

God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you. 

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.” 

He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.  

Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.” 

His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.” 

Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.” 

Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.” 

Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.” 

 “‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.” 

He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.” 

Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air. 

“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.” 

You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.

Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder.  You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you. 

You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling. 

Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.” 

Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound. 

You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.  

“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come. 

“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor. 

“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.” 

“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera. 

“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease. 

Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off. 

He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes. 

You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.” 

“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.” 

You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead. 

“Well, good thing I’m here then.”  

[widowmaxff]

bad day

pairings: wanda maximoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst (with happy ending), arguing, reader crying, depressed reader — I think that's all!

When you heard your front door slam shut, you knew Wanda had a bad day on work today. This was actually normal for the two of you, you talk to her and she tells you about the time at the place, having your help so she calms down and everything is okay. And that always worked, you usually ended those days eating pizza in bed while watching your favorite series on TV.

The redhead mumbles loudly as she walks with strong steps, throwing the keys on the living room table where you were, without even saying hello. You get up from the couch quickly, soon following your fiancée up the white staircase to finally reach your shared bedroom. Your gaze reaches Wanda, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands on her face and her elbows resting on her knees. You calmly approach the redhead, thinking of words of comfort for her.

"Wands, are you okay?" You ask, making her laugh ironically before raising her face towards you, which was red, but you didn't know if it was from anger or from running tears.

"What do you think?" You swallow hard at the stiffness in her voice that would normally be sweet and calm. "Don't be an idiot, Y/n. Obviously I'm not okay." You contort your face at those words that came out of your bride's pink mouth. She rolls her eyes when she sees the expression on your face, getting up and going to the closet in your suite.

"Wanda, I was just trying to help you. You don't need to take out your anger on me because you have nothing nice to say to me." You follow behind the girl, who mumbles when she hears your words, but receives only silence in return. "Baby, you can talk and vent to me, you know that. We always do this when you have a bad day."

"For God, Y/n. Just leave me alone, okay?" She shouts in your direction, making you startle and take a step back. "Stop wanting to be an annoying, poor attention-seeking person all the time! Why don't you do something useful instead of getting in the way, hum?" The redhead shoots.

"What the hell! Can't I have a day where I can have a little space?" You feel your throat close as you hear all those hateful words directed at you. Your breathing became unregulated and you felt a great burning sensation in your eyes. Wanda had her fists clenched as she waited for something to come out of her mouth.

"Cat got your tongue now?" She takes a step forward, but you step back, afraid of her. Your fiancée's eyes get darker when she sees that you weren't feeling safe being around her, this wasn't normal.

Wanda knew that you were very insecure about yourself, having thoughts about always disturbing other people's lives and when she talked about you doing this and being annoying, her heart seemed to break into a thousand pieces that would take a long time to put back together. Her speech repeated in your head as you thought about what to say to your fiancée.

"I..." Your lips tremble, almost letting out a sob in the middle of his speech. "Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you." A solitary tear falls from your eyes, making Wanda feel guilty, but her jaw is still clenched. "I'll be in the guest room if you want to talk... or anything else. I will leave you alone. Sorry, Wanda." You turn on your heel as you poke your fingers to ease the nervousness.

Walking out of the room towards the other, trying to hold back the crying sobs that were coming out of your throat. You normally didn't cry in front of your fiancee, you hated doing that, but when she shot those words at you it felt like mean people had put pepper in your eyes and you were trying not to care about it.

When the door to the guest room was locked, the air you were holding in your lungs was finally released, along with the tears trapped in the corners of your eyes. You disturbed people. You were annoying. It was what was repeated in your mind by several voices, but the worst of them was Wanda's, the person who made you want to live every day, but at that moment you just wanted to die and maybe never get in anyone's way again. She never yelled at you or made you feel what you felt now, so the pain felt more unbearable than it already was.

You felt your legs go soft and fall onto the double bed. Your body came together, almost as if you were giving yourself a hug. Placing your left hand over your mouth so that the noises of your crying wouldn't be heard and wouldn't bother Wanda's bad day even more. Your eyes were so tired and red, it felt like the water hadn't stopped falling for so long that you allowed yourself to sleep without your bride's cozy arms.

When morning arrived, you thought about not leaving your room, not even getting out of bed. But despite everything that had happened, you longed to talk to the redhead again, to apologize again. So, when you heard the click of the lock, you took a deep breath and stood in the large hallway of your house. You walked down the stairs towards the kitchen, smelling your favorite breakfast. The red hair was the first thing you saw when you entered the room. Her back was turned as she prepared something on the stove.

Wanda seemed to sense you in the kitchen, quickly turning to look at your swollen face from last night's crying. She sighed deeply before walking up to you and looking into your eyes, which she adored so much. "Can I hug you?" She asks, you clearly agree.

The basis of your relationship was consent, due to some past traumas and insecurities. When she puts her arms around you you feel your body relax into her touch. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't want to say those words... I had a bad day and I know that doesn't justify anything, but I swear I regret every word I said to you."

You don't say anything, because if you said something, you would probably burst into tears again and your eyes were so sore that it was tiring to leave them open. "I know you won't forgive me right away, but know that I love you so much and I regret it so much. You're nothing like I said..." Wanda rambles. "on the contrary, you are the most amazing person to be around. The sweetest person who certainly shines with kindness wherever you go. You would never, ever get in my way, darling." She continues whispering beautiful words to you, making your heart soften at her words. "I love you, never forget that."

"I love you lots too." You finally say, with a hoarse and low voice. "I forgive you, Wanda. But promise me one thing?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

"Promise never to yell at me again? Please." Your voice falters a few times in the short sentence, making Wanda want to beat herself for making you suffer.

"Oh Love. I promise, of course I promise." She looks you in the eyes, caressing your rosy cheeks. "I swear on everything I will never do that to you again." Wanda tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a small kiss on your forehead. You nod at her, faithfully believing her words.

"How about we eat your favorite breakfast now, hum? I don't want to see you with that sad face, I want to try to reward you by making your hunger go away." You laugh before firmly cupping Wanda's face and placing a smacking kiss on her pink mouth. Your day certainly got better when you felt your bride's lips and it will be much better when you enjoy every moment with the love of your life.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Like a moth to a flame

A/N: You and Tony have separated for three months now, raising your five year old daughter Emily as co-parents. This is heavily inspired from something I read recently. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed reading!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ angst, infidelity, some fluff. Nobody’s perfect!

Word count: 3.5k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“Did you have fun at Daddy’s?”

You chuckled at your daughter’s enthusiastic nodding as she grabbed your hand and skipped towards your car. Happy had waited for you outside with Emily while you dodged traffic to get to her, making you wonder where Tony was. Probably holed up in his lab? Maybe he was with her? The latter made your stomach drop at the mere thought. It should’ve stopped affecting you by now, right? Wrong.

While you secured Emily in her booster seat, she went on about the things she did during her weekend with her father. She usually spent every other weekend at the Stark Tower being utterly spoiled by her Dad. He didn’t get enough time with her and whatever little he did, he made sure to indulge her and how. You couldn’t complain though, he was a good father. If only he were a good husband, you thought…

“Pepper helped me with my drawing yesterday.”

Her statement made you halt your movements. He was bringing her home now? And with your daughter there? It angered you.

“What was she–I–I mean what did you draw baby?” you forced a smile on your face as you pulled out of the driveway, keeping your eyes on the road.

“The quinjet. And then we had pizzas. And ice-cream!” she exclaimed, fumbling around her little bag to show you what she had drawn. Even at five, she had already taken after her Dad, she was obsessed with his work, his suits, all the tech jargon which you didn’t understand. She had been a Daddy’s girl ever since she had been in your tummy.

Emily had talked your ear off the entire ride home while your mind was still stuck on the fact that Tony had the guts to bring her home. His mistress. The name made you cringe but that’s what she was. You would bring it up with him later, you thought. Bringing her in Emily’s life could lead to tons of questions that you didn’t want to answer. What did he even introduce her to Emily as? A friend? You scoffed at the thought, parking your vehicle in your garage before helping your daughter out with her bags.

You had been silent through dinner, occasionally nodding your head while your daughter spoke about her upcoming dance recital. Your mind was clouded with the thoughts of that fateful night when you walked in on your husband and found out your marriage was over.

Pressing a kiss against Emily’s forehead, you whispered good night before safely tucking her in and making your way out of her room with a smile on your face. FRIDAY announced Tony’s return from a business trip and you had found him in your en-suite hastily discarding his suit. He seemed jumpy when you approached him for a kiss.

“What’s wrong, Tony?” you frowned, noticing a red stain on his white under shirt. Was it lipstick?

Wordlessly, you had unbuttoned his shirt, fingers shaking with anger as your eyes landed on a prominent hickey marked on his shoulder. Was he hoping you wouldn’t notice it? As if right on cue, his phone that was on the counter buzzed with Pepper’s name flashing across the screen. It was a punch in your gut. Only the worst.

With guilt splashed all over his features, Tony walked out behind you as tears clouded your vision.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, Y/N. It was a mistake. I’m s–”

“You’re sorry?” you yelled, turning to look him in the eye while he lowered his gaze to the floor.

“You’re sorry for sleeping with her or you’re sorry that I found out? How long has this been going on, Tony? You know what? Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter.” you muttered, pushing past him to pack a suitcase with your things, not having a plan in mind but knowing you needed to get the hell away from him.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” he asked desperately trying to stop you.

“I don’t know. I can’t stay here.”

“Honey, please. We can talk about it, don’t go. Please!”

“You broke your vows, Anthony!” you screamed, brushing away hot tears that streamed down your cheeks as you resumed packing.

All of his attempts to stop you failed, you couldn’t believe what the day had turned into. In the morning Tony had promised to spend the entire weekend with his girls and now the day had ended with a cheating husband and a ruined marriage.

It took you a long time to be civil with him. Every time you looked at him, it reminded you of what he had done. Your heart broke all over again. You refused to speak about the incident, you couldn’t. Yet you couldn’t avoid him forever. Because you had a daughter to think about. A daughter who was concerned about her parents’ strange behavior towards each other. It was out of the blue for her. If only you had the ability to explain.

Three months ago, you separated from Tony, agreeing to make Emily’s life as normal as you possibly could. It took time, a lot of it, but eventually you came to terms with it. Well, almost. Tony was still the father of your child, he was still the man you had fallen madly in love with all those years ago. All that love doesn’t just disappear overnight, right?

“Mama?” you felt Emily tug on your arm, staring up at you with her big brown eyes she’d gotten from her Dad.

“Yes?”

“The story?” she pointed to the book you clutched tightly in your hands, waiting for her bedtime story like she did every night. Shaking your head, you snapped yourself out of it and began reading her the story she’d chosen, putting thoughts of your failed marriage on the backburner.

.

On Friday, you felt you were coming down with a flu. Aching muscles, chills and a stuffy nose, you were miserable and ready to sleep your way through the weekend. You were thankful Tony was coming to pick Emily up for the weekend, you didn’t want your daughter falling ill.

Emily jumped from the couch and ran towards the door the moment your doorbell rang, clearly excited about seeing her Dad after a couple of weeks. You were pleasantly surprised to see Rhodey accompanying your husband as they both greeted your daughter with matching smiles before turning to you.

“Y/N! My favourite Stark!” Rhodey chuckled, sticking his tongue out at Emily who giggled.

You were still a Stark. You never actually got to file for a divorce. Not that you wanted to. It was all too confusing. You still harbored feelings for Tony even though he broke your heart. Those feelings weren’t going anywhere, especially not when he was so good with you and Emily. Watching him interact with her always made you happy. Ever since you’d got together, you had wanted to raise kids with Tony. It had been a dream that turned into a reality the day you found out you were pregnant.

“Rhodey. What a pleasant surprise! I’d hug you but I don’t want to get you sick.” you smiled at your friend, giving Tony the same smile who had a look of concern on his face. Your nose was red and you looked pale, it worried him greatly.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked, coming over to feel your forehead with the back of his hand, filling your nostrils with his familiar scent.

“Oh it’s just a cold, I’m sure. Nothing to worry about.” you dismissed, contemplating bringing up the Pepper incident from two weeks ago. You still hadn’t addressed it.

While you packed the last of Emily’s things in her bag, Tony knocked on the door of her room and cleared his throat.

“So, I asked Rhodey to take Em to the park. I’m gonna stay over to make you my magic soup.”

The tone of definiteness in his voice left little room for argument, knowing Tony he wouldn’t let up, so you agreed. It was thoughtful of him. It would give you two a chance to talk as well.

“Have fun with Uncle Rhodey and no sprinting out of sight, okay? Call me if you need anything, Rhodes.” you called out to the pair of them.

“I will. Feel better, Y/N.”

“Bye, Mama! Bye Daddy!”

You smiled as Tony blew her a kiss which she pretended to catch, a habit she had picked up watching the two of you, when you were together. That seemed a long time ago now, you thought sadly.

You felt nervous all of a sudden being alone with him, it wasn’t the first time but it was after a long time. Tony’s eyes landed on your t-shirt and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I knew you stole this.”

Looking down at his MIT t-shirt, you smiled back, it had been your favourite clothing to sleep in. You always wore it when you missed him a little extra, even after years of you stealing it, it still distinctly smelled of Tony Stark. Your Tony Stark.

“I can give it back.” you teased, but Tony shook his head.

“Looks better on you anyway.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies you felt at his statement, perching yourself on the counter while Tony grabbed an apron, moving around in your kitchen with ease as he brought the things he needed to make the soup.

You spoke back and forth about your work, chuckling when Tony swatted your hand away as you tried to grab a piece of carrot. It felt nice to have him around you again, it felt familiar. He tried for weeks to get you to talk to him, at first, you had ignored all his pleas. But then, for the sake of your daughter, you met with him, heard his apology, allowed him to gather you in his arms when you broke down.

You still needed time and he respected that. From that day on, you had found a way to be around your husband without the need to punish him for his deeds. It still hurt and you still hadn’t forgiven him, but you were amicable.

Noticing he went upstairs to your bedroom, you frowned as he returned with a large knit blanket.

“You get the full Maria Stark treatment tonight.” he winked, wrapping the blanket around you and placing a soft kiss against your forehead, making those butterflies return. He had explained how his mother always made him a soup that helped with all kinds of cold and flu, causing it to magically disappear, hence the name. You knew Tony missed her.

After all this time, he made sure to mention her to his kid, telling her stories about her grandma who would’ve doted on her granddaughter if she were alive.

After making sure you had a big bowl of soup, Tony and you found yourselves on your couch, with your legs draped across his lap, his hands gently massaging your foot. Rhodey had texted that he was taking Emily to dinner, giving you more time with each other before they returned.

“Why was Pepper at the house, Tony?” you blurted out, not beating around the bush.

“I didn’t know she was gonna show up, Y/N. Honestly, I didn’t want her there but she began speaking to Emily and the next thing I know they’re in Em’s room, colouring away. I didn’t want to have an argument in front of her.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his statement. Surely he could’ve thrown her out if he didn’t want her there?

“Babe, please–”

“I don’t want her spending time with my child, Tony. You’re free to fuck whoever you wish to but she needs to stay away from Emily.” you fought back tears as you said those words, looking away from the man, not wanting him to see you so weak.

Tony knelt in front of you, grabbing both your hands in his, pleading you to look at him.

“She won’t be around our kid, Y/N. I promise you. I don’t plan on seeing her ever. She took me by surprise that day. It won’t happen again. I need you to believe me.”

You allowed him to wipe your tears away with his thumb, managed a small nod before he sat right beside you, opening his arms for you.

Your eyes fell close as Tony embraced you, hugging you to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. His familiar scent enveloped your senses, reminding you of home.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to screw this up. I made a mistake for which I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness but I swear I will do whatever it takes to make myself worthy of your love again. I never stopped loving you and I never will. You and Em are my whole world.” he murmured with utmost sincerity, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as you listened, not bothering to wipe the tears that stained his shirt.

You believed him.

.

“Tony. Tony! Anthony Edward Stark, your daughter is kicking for the first time and you’re missing it.”

You called out after your husband ignored your calls, hunched over his work station in the lab. That however made him snap out of it and sprint over to place both his hands on your belly, feeling your baby kick against his hand rather enthusiastically. He knelt in front of you with the biggest grin you’d seen, placing a kiss against your swollen tummy before speaking to your unborn child.

“I can’t wait to meet you either, sweetheart. I love you so much already. I love you both.” he blinked up at you, filling your heart with happiness.

“We still don’t have a name for this one.” you point out as Tony helped you into a chair, scratching the back of his head as he thought about it.

“Hmm. Rose…Lily…Emily?”

At the mention of Emily, you felt a firm kick that you wince.

“Well she likes Emily, so I guess it’s settled.” you laughed as Tony placed his hands on your belly once again to feel his child respond.

The memory roused you from your sleep as you felt someone crawl on your bed. Tony had stayed over and you both passed out on your bed late last night, and now Emily was crawling her way between the two of you, rubbing her eyes that were still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Tony’s voice was almost too loud for the time of the day as your daughter snuggled close to you, wrapping both her arms around your neck.

“Are you feeling better?” Tony asked you, checking your temperature once again. You were feeling better than yesterday already although the exhaustion still prevailed.

“I’m gonna make some coffee–”

“Shh, Daddy!” The irritation in her voice made you giggle as you saw your husband huff playfully and rest his head against his palm, watching the two of you with a soft expression on his face.

“Yeah. Shh Daddy.” you repeated with a grin, cradling Emily against your chest as you closed your eyes again. Not long after, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap both of you in a comforting hug as Tony muttered ‘I’m not missing family snuggle time.’

.

It was the day of the big fundraiser at Stark Tower.

You had made a commitment to show up months ago, given you had helped organize the whole thing in the first place. Plus a part of you felt hopeful since the night Tony stayed over, you saw a glimmer of hope after what had been a painfully grey three months.

Since that day, you saw tangible efforts from Tony towards fixing your marriage, he showed up for Emily’s recitals, checked on you more often than he would, spent several nights over at your place just chatting, it felt easy to get back into routine with him, it felt familiar.

Sure it didn’t erase the past but it felt like a step towards the right direction. Deep down, you knew you wouldn’t want to be away from him, the thought of divorcing Tony was far from your mind now.

You dressed up well for the occasion, got your hair and make up done, you wanted to look good, not just for yourself but for your husband too. A part of you wanted him to realize what he had been missing out on for these past few months.

Your sequined red gown showed off your curves perfectly, the plunging neckline offered just enough cleavage for a tease.

“You look so pretty, Mama!” your daughter made you twirl around before you swooped down to kiss her goodbye. You had arranged for a babysitter for Emily tonight, not wanting her to stay up too late.

Tony had Happy pick you up and drive you over to Stark Tower; he had texted you asking about your outfit, wanting to match his pocket square to the colour of your dress. Opening the door for you, Tony felt his breath hitch as his eyes landed on you. You were a vision.

Offering you his hand, he let his eyes shamelessly rake over your form, drinking you in. His heart sang a happy song at the sight of the stunning engagement ring and wedding band sitting on your finger as he clasped your hand in his.

“Y/N, wow…you look so beautiful.”

You blushed under his gaze, heart fluttering happily as he stepped closer. Unable to help himself, Tony captured your lips in a soft kiss, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, not caring about anything else.

You felt it linger way after it was over, the touch of his lips on yours after such a long time. It made you smile at each other like teenagers who’d kissed for the very first time.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” he cleared his throat as he stepped back, cautious of overwhelming you before he offered you his arm which you gladly took.

As frowned as a vaguely familiar car stopped right outside the entrance, and out stepped the last woman you wanted to lay your eyes on. Pepper Potts.

You weren’t letting her ruin your evening. Not anymore. She had done enough damage. Letting go of Tony’s arm, you stormed right over to her, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

“I don’t remember you being invited here, Pepper. Not tonight. Not ever, actually.” you fumed, trying to keep your anger in check while Tony walked over, glaring at her while keeping an arm around you.

“Oh I never show up unannounced, Tony invited me months ago, didn’t you Tony?” her face was smug, you had to do everything in your power not to punch her right then and there. Tony opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Unless you want your skinny little arms ripped off, I suggest you crawl back into that car of yours and stay the fuck away from my family.” the death stare you sent her way was enough for her to back off, you saw her gulp and give your husband one last glance before cursing under her breath and leaving.

You strode inside angrily with Tony following two steps behind, equal parts impressed and turned on by your reaction. Motioning the waiter, he offered you a glass of champagne which you downed in one go, letting out a breath you had been holding.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” you whispered, still high on adrenaline as you paced about.

“That was hot, Y/N.” he exclaimed, warily stepping closer to you, glad when you didn’t push him away. You rolled your eyes at his statement but gladly accepted the kiss he offered. He pulled you flush against his chest, pushing his tongue past your lips while your arms found their way behind his neck, tugging on his hair, needing him now more than ever. He shared your sentiment as you felt his erection against your core, making you break the kiss, much to his dismay.

“Really Tony?” you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split your face as Tony shrugged. Despite the circumstances, the two of you were made for each other, you knew that. You were like a moth to his flame. You couldn’t stay away even if you tried.

“Bathroom. Five minutes.” you gave him a little shove, winking at the man over your shoulder before heading towards the bathroom, ready to claim what was already yours.

[crossroads-pizza-delivery]

IT’S SO HOT IN HERE.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hmmmm maybe simmer eddie acting like rs puppy when girls try to talk to him , hes like 👀 to us

You could see Eddie from across the diner.

He’d come out from the safety of the kitchen only to help Jonathan plug in a new coffee machine behind the bar and before he could get back to his omelette mix, a girl from out of town had struck up a conversation.

It had been about something as normal as the coffee beans Jonathan had handed to him and you watched as Eddie showed the girl the packet. But then she was leaning in and tapping at his name badge and you could see the way her lips wrapped around his name even if you were too far away to hear.

She was touching his arm, fingers curled around his chefs jacket and from across the diner, Eddie looked around, eyes wide and searching, trying to find yours.

He looked like a trapped rabbit, something akin to a baby deer perhaps, caught in headlights. He stared at you, brows raised as if he were waiting on you doing something. What that something was, you were unsure, but it was rather funny to watch the blush rise over the boy’s cheeks as the girl stepped a little closer.

You would’ve went over to save him if it weren’t for the family of five that stole you to take their order, taking too long to decide between pizza and pasta and the loaded nachos. When you looked back up, scribbling down five glasses of lemonade on your pad, you saw Eddie shaking his head, frowning in that way he did and looking panicked. He was pointing to you and then looking back at the girl, his hands held up in surrender, making a show of not touching his new friend back.

As if you had any reason not to trust him. You smothered a grin and told your customers you’d be right back with drinks. By the time you reached the kitchen, Eddie had dipped back inside and he grabbed you on entry, a full bodied thing that felt more like you were his life raft than him hugging you.

“Did you see her!” He intoned, disbelief colouring his voice. “I told her, sweetheart, told her all about you and how pretty you were but she kept puttin’ her damn hand on me—”

Argyle was slicing peppers across the station and he shook his head in solidarity. “Women,” he agreed.

You snorted, sliding your order over to Argyle before giving Eddie your full attention. You grinned, slipping your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, something sweet and quick for the sake of professionalism. “I saw,” you told him, nodding in faux seriousness, matching his tone. “Hope you let her down gently, chef.”

“What?” Eddie’s brow furrowed. “You aren’t mad?”

“Of course I’m not mad, handsome,” you laughed, moving away to pull out the giant containers of ketchup and mustard that you could never really lift. Eddie sighed and moved to help you, lifting both with ease. You peered at him, amused. “Should I have reason to be mad?”

“What? No,” Eddie said again, as serious as a heart attack. “But you could’ve come and fuckin’ saved me at least, I was being eaten alive.”

“Eddie, she touched your arm.”

“Yeah, like some kind of scarlet woman.”

[ssweeterthanfiction]

So High School

high school boyfriend!finnick odair…

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who’s liked you since the first day of middle school but only found the confidence to ask you out in 9th grade.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who was all smiles when he found out he had 3 classes with you plus lunch. (He made sure he was sitting next to you in those classes.)

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who tries to make you laugh at any given chance, and when he does it makes his heart leap.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who notices that you start showing up to his practices. He sees you sit on the outdoor bleachers and read while he’s at lacrosse practice.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who walks you home afterwards and has the biggest smile on his face while he walks back home.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who after talking for a while, nervously asks you out to a pizza date. (He’s exploding with happiness when you say yes.)

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who after 3 dates, (one pizza date, one library date, and one movie date) finally asks you out by asking if he can be your boyfriend.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who feels like crying when you say yes.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who loves walking you to class, holding your books and your hand.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who introduces you to his family, but his mom already knows everything about you since he never stops talking about you.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who loves going to your house or to the library afterschool to watch you read and do your homework. He loves the way you get frustrated when you don’t get something right the first time, he wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses to make you feel better.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who adores it when you come to his games wearing his spare jersey or hoodie with his number. He calls you his number one cheerleader and kisses you after every game.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who spends every winter break with you and buys you the new set of books you’ve been wanting for Christmas. He also spends new years with you and of course, kisses you at midnight.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who also spends everyday of every summer vacation with you. Whether it’s at the park, the beach, your house, his house, the movies, the pool, he’s always with you. He even spends the 4th of July watching fireworks with you.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who asks you out to the prom by having his teammates, your classmates and your friends hold out flowers for you to collect while you walk towards him. He holds a sign saying “I would be Enchanted to take you to prom” He’s all smiley when you say yes.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who needs absolutely no convincing for whatever color you choose for your dress and his suit. Anything to make his girl happy.

high school boyfriend!finnick odair who freaks out as graduation nears.

He’s lying in your arms as you read. But then the thought of graduation and college comes to his mind. He calls out your name, you put down your book.

He looks like he’s about to cry.

“Finn? What’s wrong?”

“What…what are we gonna do next year?”

You look at him with a confused look. “What are you talking about Finn?”

He sits up straight. “When we go away for school. What are we gonna do?”

His voice is shaky and you can already see the tears spilling out of his eyes.

“You aren’t going to leave me are you?”

You shake your head and hug him.

“No Finn…no. I would never dream of leaving you.” you whisper softly to him.

“You mean that?”

“Course I do. I’ve loved you for 4 years…and I know I’ll love you for more Finn. We’ll figure something out.”

He kisses your cheek and hugs you tightly, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“I love you sweet girl. Forever.”

Needless to say, you and Finnick go long distance and spend every break together. You both even get your own place together in the city after you graduate. And he definitely plans on marrying you. He just needs to wait til the eras tour to make it magical for you.

this has been in my head for so long so i needed to write it out so my head wouldn’t explode :P

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi!! I LOVE the pizzeria! I would love to place an order for a pizza! I’d like a thin crust pizza with Red sauce, pepperonis, jalenpeno, bacon and banana peppers with a water and sprite to drink served by Lando Norris!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brothers best friend red sauce rough sex pepperoni "be a good girl and you'll get what you want" jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" bacon "what would your brother think if he caught us" banana peppers "look so pretty riding my cock" water breeding kink sprite size kink dessert no served by Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Verstappen reader

TW rough sex, some degrading words, cock riding, creampie

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Always such a fucking brat," Lando mumbles against my ear. I mean he was right I was being a brat but it was all intentional.

I had been wanting Lando to fuck me, like really fuck me. So I've spent the whole weekend doing little things to piss him off.

Started by telling him I would spend my Friday and Saturday in the Red Bull garage to support my brother but then right before the boys needed to get into their car Lando happened to find me in the Ferrari garage. Which I was only there talking to Alex and Rebecca but in that moment he happened to catch me talking to Carlos, and while it was about Lando, Lando didn't need to know that.

Somehow that still didn't work. I could see the hurt flash in his eyes but he just kind of shrugged his shoulders and accepted my answer when I told him.

Then Saturday night we decided to have dinner with my brother and a few of the other drivers. During the whole dinner I pretty much gave all of my attention to Oscar and Lily making Lando groan and grip my thigh roughly making me think I was finally gonna get what I wanted but then when we got back to the hotel that night he told me he was tired and just gonna get a good night's sleep before the race.

I had one last chance to get fucked the way I needed to before we would be parting ways for a week.

It's Sunday which means race day. I always spend my time with Lando on Sunday. Some weekends Id go to Red Bull and others I would stay at Mclaren but no matter where I spent the weekend I was always in the Mclaren garage during the race.

But today, I decided to inform Lando that I was planning on watching from the Redbull garage since my brother had been struggling with the car and I wanted to be there to support him.

That was Lando's final straw.

After telling him I was gonna leave the Mclaren garage is when he called me a brat finally realizing what I had been doing all weekend.

"Did you think I didn't notice?" Lando questions while he ushers us into his driver's room where he quickly locked the door and pushed me against the wall.

"The way you lied about which garage you would be in, to giving Oscar and Lily heart eyes all last night practically begging to go back into their room and be their slut for them to use, to now trying to piss me off by saying you would be in a different garage during the race when it has always been the deal that Sunday's is a Mclaren day," Lando says with venom in his voice before he crashes his lips onto mine making me whimper into his mouth.

"Is this what you wanted?" Lando snapped making me nod my head sheepishly. Lando just scoffs before he makes quick work of stripping both of us down before he's on his knees pulling my clit into his mouth and giving it a long suck.

"Fuck," I groan when the pleasure starts coursing through my body.

"I needed this," I whimper out making Lando smirk against my pussy.

Lando keeps quick work with his tongue while bringing his fingers to my pussy before shoving them into my pussy and making me gasp at the quick intrusion.

"Fuck," I moan softly when Lando starts hitting my G-spot bringing me to an orgasm far quicker than I wanted.

When Lando can feel my pussy clenching and twitching around his fingers in a silent warning of my impending orgasm he pulls his fingers out and stops playing with my clit making me whine and whimper at the loss of pleasure.

"Be a good girl and you'll get what you want," Lando says while laughing slightly at my desperation. I only whine a bit louder before Lando roughly grips into my hair and starts pulling me towards the couch before he plops down and pulls his shorts down leaving him in just a shirt.

"Since you wanted to be a brat, you get to do the work," Lando says sharply making me climb into his lap and sink down on his cock making both of us gas.

I'm sinking down too slowly for Lando's liking because he grips onto my hips and pulls me down completely making me gasp again at the sharp intrusion.

I don't get much time to adjust because Lando starts bouncing me up and down his cock like I was his own personal toy, making me grip his shoulders to keep my balance while throwing my head back in a loud moan.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Lando mumbles making me moan.

"So good," I whimper while speeding up my actions trying to chase the orgasm Lando had denied me earlier.

"Fuck, how are you still this fucking tight," Lando groans throwing his head back and showing off his neck I have always loved. I bend down and place a soft kiss on it before sinking my teeth and leaving a faint hickey.

"No way you just marked me up right before I'm gonna be on live TV for 3 hours," Lando says roughly while taking control over again and bouncing me on his cock in such a quick and rough succession my mind gets lost and I can no longer think about anything but the way his cock is invading me.

"What would your brother think if he caught us? You bouncing on my cock with your head thrown back begging and whiney like a proper whore for me to use," Lando says roughly while fucking into my pussy and bringing one of his hands down to slap my clit making me whimper at the slight burn.

"You fucking loved that, I felt the way your pussy clenched for more," Lando says while landing another slap on my clit making me whimper.

"Close," I mumble. Lando just grabs my hips and lifts me up slightly so he can start thrusting into my pussy far faster than when he was using me like a toy.

"Fuck!" I scream while I start cumming all over Lando's cock making him groan.

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up, get you nice and full with my cum so one day I can watch you swell with my babies," Lando groans out before sending one last thrust deep into my pussy before he starts painting the walls of my soaked pussy with his cum making me moan at the feeling.

KNOCK KNOCK

We hear on the door making us scramble to find our clothes. When Lando is just in his boxers and the undershirt for his fireproofs he opens the door he makes sure to shield the door with his body not wanting anyone in the garage to see the scene behind him.

"We need you in the car in 5 minutes," I hear his engineer tell Lando making me dress even quicker. Lando just tells him he will be ready before closing the door.

"You're staying in Mclaren," Lando says leaving absolutely no room for argument.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

[narcolini]

white room - pt. 2

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 4.3k words, 2 of ? part one here a/n: tw for reader talking about their dad being dead (sorry pops) & thankyou darling kay (hausofmamadas) for the gif <3

Your idea of nice and his idea of nice are two whole different things. Not to say it isn’t a nice place, you know, it’s cute, but it isn’t nice nice, in the fancy kind of way. Which is probably your own fault for letting so many hotshot advertisement guys take you out and getting you used to it—and that’s no good at all, cause all they wanna do is impress you into sleeping with one of them, and all Johnny wants to do is eat pizza by the slice. Apparently.

He says “they got the good stuff here” as he holds the door open and by the time you’re sitting with a pie in front of you, yeah, you gotta say, it’s a Hell of a piece. So cheesy you gotta stretch your whole arm up to get it away from the plate, and when Johnny does it, you hook a finger around the stringy bit and pull it right into your mouth. Half thieving, half flirting. You figure he won’t mind so much about that, considering how good you’re looking for him, and he don’t. He’s even smiling as you chew it up. 

“You said you work in an office?” he asks, before taking a big bite of that piece you stole from. Washing it down with a Dr Pepper too, cause this place is too family friendly for anything other than a good old fashioned soda pop. 

“Mhmm. One that does them ads in the paper and on leaflets and stuff.”

“You write ‘em?”

“I wish,” you drag out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes all the way into the back of your head. “I sit in meetings and take notes, then I sit at my desk and I type up the notes. Then I go take it to my boss and he says, ‘thanks, doll, ‘nother meeting at twelve’. Then it all goes fuckin’ round again.”

He snorts, cause you’re funny and he sees it, not like those other guys. “You don’t like it then?”

“Oh, I like anything that pays me to do nothin,” you say. “The other week, they gave me overtime to sit and watch the phone incase some big important call came through. Well, that thing didn’t ring once, not from the moment I sat down, to the second I got up. Easiest buck I ever made.”

He blows out again, laughing over the neck of his pop, and you put the corner of your own slice into your mouth. You shouldn’t talk while you’re chewing, and you don’t ever do it, promise, but you’re nearly done with the eating part when you ask him, “And what d’you do?”

Well, you’d’ve thought you’d asked him the answer to the universe from the way he’s thinking about it. You wait for him and he takes another drink, then another bite, and then he itches his jaw with the end of his thumb, though no-one ever gets no itchy jaw like that, and says, “I drive trucks.”

“Yeah? I figured riding bikes was your job.”

Johnny don’t really say nothin to that, which he does a lot you’re finding. Thinks a sort of a look and a noise like he’s saying something is a fine enough answer for anything that he doesn’t really wanna answer. Like a whole third of your conversation so far has been just that—you talking and him listening, sure, he’s good at that part, but then he hums or something and it’s right back to you talking again. 

Must be how he likes it though, cause he ain’t stopped you yet and you could talk for the whole world if they wanted you to.

“What’s your deal?” you ask, after watching him eat an entire slice without saying a thing. 

“My deal?”

“Yeah.”

“I gotta have a deal?”

“Everyone’s got a deal.” You look at him, really look at him, take all the lifelines and scars in like you never put your eyes on him before. Find yourself staring at his hands too, at the tan line there, or the missing tan, you guess, right there on his ring finger. The rest of him’s done up in that way like he’s been out in the sun too much, all except for that one little bit. The shape of a thing that’s not there no more. “You married?” 

You wanna know, and you’re not afraid of asking about it, cause if he is this is gonna be a real easy fix. You out the door, him taking the bill. 

He sighs, long and slow, then wipes his mouth with the screwed up napkin from next to him. “Divorced,” he says.

“Kids?”

“Two girls.” Which explains the pizza place. He don’t know what nice is anymore, unless you can take a kid there and make them real happy about it.

“Do they like you?” 

One of his little eyebrows tweaks up at that, then sinks again into a mean frown that you’d hate to be on the real end of—cause he don’t mean it now, he’s just prickly about talking about it. You can tell. And who can blame him, you’re asking a lot of questions in the same sort of way that your mother hates so much. No manners, she says, no patience neither.

“Yeah,” he tells you, “they like me.” Then his hand and that napkin comes waving over the table at you. “What—what is this?”

You shrug, not hiding nothin. “Just getting a look at you. Figuring you out.”

He sniffs. Nods. “You gonna go and type all this shit up later?”

You’re thinking he means it like a dig, like you should feel some type of way about the sort of person he’s accusing you of being, but it’s got you smiling still. Cause he’s talking now and with real character too. “I might do. Been a while since I heard something really worth typing up.”

“And what’s yours,” he grumbles, pissier than usual, “what’s your deal that everyone’s gotta have?”

“Dead Pops,” you tell him, and you say it so quick that all the attitude drops right off of him. 

His head shakes—just the one time. “What’s that mean?”

“Well it means he’s six feet under, Johnny.”

“No—why’s that…you didn’t like your old man or something?”

“I liked him fine. Just never saw him enough and then he went and died before I could make it up to him.”

For some reason, he nods like he gets the feeling, but his eyes are all of a sudden shy of looking at you, like you might be upset at him for asking in the first place. You think the noise he makes is him trying to say sorry, or passing on his condolences, but no man you ever met has had any kind of manner when it comes to being sensitive, so you figure that’s the best he can do.

“He was from round here,” you say, “that house of mine was his first, you know.”

Another nod.

“Thought coming back would help me feel like, I don’t know, like I was connected to him or something. Like it might make me feel a little less lost.”

Then his eyes are up again and he don’t look so scared of upsetting you no more. “Did it work?” he asks. “You feel better now you’re here?”

You hum a little, like you need some time to think up the answer that’s been screaming at you since you unpacked the very first box. “Nope.” You shake your head, real sure of it. “Turns out, it just makes you fuckin’ lonely, living in a dead man’s house.”

He lets out a big long breath at that, like he’d been holding it in, and you get to smell the cigarette he smoked half an hour ago, right in front of your face. “Yeah, alright,” he says, “that’s a Hell of a deal.”

You smile. “Now you’re gettin' it.”

He points at the empty bottle in front of you. “You want another one?”

On all them other dates, this is where you’d say no thanks, I’ll take a ride home and an early night, if it’s no bother to you. And every time, all those other guys would be very bothered by it, might even make you pay for your half and a cab too, but not one part of you wants to find out what Johnny’d say to all that. You don’t want another pop and you don’t wanna go home neither. For all his quiet, and his funny ways—like he don’t always look like he wants to be talking to you—you’re finding him awful good to be around.

Makes as much sense to you as it makes no sense at all, but sometimes it’s just like that. People you can be yourself with, you know. People who make you wanna be so much like yourself, that it makes you feel all crazy about it. 

So you tell him that, in a sort of a way. You say, “I’ll be honest, Johnny, I’m feeling like something a little stronger,” and he smiles real big at that.

_________

Then you’re in another bar, and it ain’t the bar you said you didn’t wanna be in, but it is a bar that’s full of Vandals still.

Well, not full, guess you could count five of them if you wanted to. Six including Johnny. And they are all hanging about in that one back corner, while you and him got a standing table somewhere in the middle, so you figure he’s not really broken his promise all the way. Just twisted it a little. Plus with the noise of the place, you can hardly make them out above the rest of it, so you set your eyes on him and forget about them. Who knows, right? This whole town could be swarming with those biker guys, but you ain’t never noticed it before cause you ain’t never noticed him before, and that’s not exactly his fault, is it? 

He’s standing real close to you too now, to the one side of you, instead of opposite like in the pizza place, and you can feel the heat coming off of him like fire. Like those big ones in your Grandpa’s house at Christmastime. All flame and soot and crackling warmth that you wanna put your hands into. 

Something about it makes you a little erratic, makes you blurt out another question with even less manners than usual. And it’s a real mood killer too, “So why’d you get divorced?” you say. 

You asked him that, you really did, and while he’s thinking about how to take it, you drink down half your beer in one big stinking gulp. If your mother could see you now? Jeez.

“You really gonna ask me that before I’ve even…?” He points to the beers, well his beer, cause yours is still in your hands like you’re scared he’ll take it from you. “C’mon,” he says.

He’s got a point, sure, but also you been here a minute and it don’t seem like it’s your fault that he hasn’t taken a drink yet. Too busy smoking one of them cigarettes again, and smirking at you like he finds your dumb mouth all kinds of charming, when he should be judging you like a real gentleman would. 

“You don’t gotta tell me,” you say, shrugging with it.

“Hm.” Another answer without answering—and this time, it kinda sorta bothers you.

He puts the smoke between his fingers, to take a long sip of his beer, and you find yourself reaching across to take it from him. Not a smoker, but you can smoke if the company does, you know. Which happens to be a lot at work, cause those office guys go like chimneys when they’re thinking, on and on and on, until the room’s full of the stuff. And then you don’t even need to have one yourself because you’re puffing it as much as they are, right, but it’s nice to feel included still.

This time, you’re only doing it to give you something to do, and give him something to look at while he thinks so much about all the things he don’t wanna tell you. Which seems to be doing the trick just fine.

“Didn’t work out,” he says, right when you think he’s over it, didn’t work out. “That’s all it is.”

You tap the ash off, feeling him stare as you take a drag and blow it away from him. “Well if your girls like you still, that must be most of the truth.”

“Nah, that’s it. That’s the whole truth, nothin’ else.”

“Alright then.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

He’s getting antsy, prickly all over again. “I believe you,” you tell him, looking at him all serious like, his face right there next to yours. “Marriage is a crazy complex thing, right? I guess I always assume it takes more than ‘didn’t work’ to put it to bed, but if you say yours didn’t, then it didn’t. Who am I to know?”

He doesn’t nod or do nothin, he just squints back at you and says, “Were your parents divorced?”

You laugh, and it’s sort of rude, cause it’s right in his face. Probably felt the gust of it straight into his mouth. “There you go, treating me like a kid again,” you explain, and he frowns like he don’t get it. Funny, all that wisdom in his big old head, and he can’t seem to work out what you mean. “You figure I couldn’t be old enough to have a marriage of my own? Had to ask about my parents instead?”

And you got him, caught him with his hands all red, cause he gets fidgety with it. “Well have you?” he asks.

You pout to hide your smirk. “No.”

Then his frown is swapped clean out for a laugh, and that smile that you’re sorta growing fond of. “So, just cause I didn’t know that about you, yeah, I’m treating you like a kid, am I?”

“Yeah.” You’re leaning in real close now, shoulders touching and everything. “I would’a liked it if you thought I could’ve had a marriage, and a divorce, just like you, Johnny.”

“Ah, right. Alright.” His head dips a little, and he’s looking all over your face like he’s hungry for every word you ain’t said yet, his voice in almost a whisper. “So how was your divorce?” he asks.

“Oh, awful.” You flash your eyes big, so dramatic. “He took everything I had—and all ten of the kids.” 

He hisses with his teeth, really playing along with it. “That’s a mean fuck right there,” he says, and if you’re honest, you kinda wish you weren’t lying for a sec, cause hearing him say something like that, real ex-husband or not, it kinda does something to you. Makes you giddy in a teenage way. 

“That’s what I told him,” you say back, but you don’t sound serious no more, you’re all breathy and quiet like you’re losing your guts. “Lucky we’re both single again, huh?”

“Lucky," he says, “yeah.”

Boy, you could’ve sworn the whole place went still. Every noise fell away like you were the only two people in there.

And he’s looking at you in that way, the eye contact, you know, in that real eatable way that makes you want take him home right now, or better yet, right into the bathrooms at the back of the bar there. But that’s crazy talk. That’s really real crazy talk. That’s the kind of thing you regret when your heads pounding the next day, and you don’t remember how that tap shaped bruise got onto your asscheek, never mind wether or not you’re seeing the guy again.

So, being good about it, you move your eyes from the door to the group of guys you been ignoring this whole time, and you ask him, “So when are you gonna introduce me to your little friends?”

He goes like a statue—minus his forehead, of course, that thing scrunches up like he lost you for a minute and he’s having to really squint just to see you again. “What I gotta introduce you to them for?”

“They’re your family, ain’t they?”

He holds his hand out, and it takes you a second to realise he’s asking for the cigarette back, the one that’s nearly gone, burning away in your fingers still. You give it to him, half thinking to apologise for wasting it, but he just plops it right back into his mouth like it’s nothin. He gets one pull out of it and then smushes it, dead, into the ash tray. “S’a lot, for a second date, no? Meeting the family.”

You laugh almost. “You counting last night as the first?”

“I’m counting pizza as the first,” he says.

You can’t help it, you’re still smiling at him, and blushing a little too. “Something bout that feels like you’re cheating me outta what I deserve.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” he says, all careful like, “we can count this whole night as the first, if you want, but I don’t bring first dates to the club either.”

“Fine.” He wins. “Then let’s call this one the second, whichever way you wanna look at it, and I still wanna meet ‘em.”

“Nah. Not—not today.”

For the first time in your life, you don’t feel like pushing until you get what you want. He’s still messing with the butt of that cigarette, spinning it round and round in the ashtray, so you figure he got a reason behind that skull of his, and a good one too.

Well, you’re willing to pretend like he might, anyway. 

“Okay. How about some names then? So I know who to picture when you’re telling me your stories.”

His lip quirks up. “You wanna hear my stories?”

“Oh, all of ‘em.” You nudge him, elbow to elbow, and drop your head onto your shoulder, in that real cute way that makes your hair bounce, just to look at him. “Please, Johnny?”

He lets go of the smoke with a sigh that doesn’t really mean what he wants it to mean, and crosses his arms on top of the table. “One on the lefts Corky,” he says, nodding that way. “Then Wahoo, Cal, Cockroach.”

You follow his direction, all good and quiet and listening, and put the names to the faces as best you can. Only then he stops and you have to poke him, “And that tall movie star on the end?”

He waits like he’s thinking about it. “That’s Benny.”

“Just Benny?”

“Yeah. Just Benny.”

But that don’t make no sense to you, cause all these guys are never just anyone, unless they’re someone important, you know, everybody’s got something in a club like that. “He don’t got some funny name too?” you ask, and Johnny shakes his head. “Why not?”

“Cause he don’t need nothin—he’s just, some people are just…” He shrugs, screwing his brows a little. “He’s just Benny.” 

“And you’re just Johnny.”

Who’s just humming in reply now, saying yeah without using his words cause he don’t need to, and you keep letting him be about it.

“Well,” you start, now that neither of you are looking at those Vandals no more, “what name would you give me?” 

He doesn’t even try. “I dunno,” he says. 

“C’mon, Johnny. I know you know, if you thought about it, you probably named all those guys.” Minus Benny. Just Benny.  

He groans like you’re really troubling him by asking for it and reaches for another smoke from his pack. “Let’s see,” he says. Now he’s thinking. “I guess, something short.” The lighter flashes by his chin then goes away again in a snap. “Something like Lips.” 

First time he’s left you speechless. Really cotton mouthed and speechless. “Lips?” you repeat, and you hate to say it, but you’re almost squeaking. Lips?

“Mhmm.”

“Why’s that?” you ask him, more serious now than you have been this whole time, so close that you could burn your nose on the end of his cigarette. “And don’t say cause they look nice.”

“Even if it’s true?”

You laugh like you can’t believe it. “I don’t care if it’s true, that’s not the answer.”

This guy, he has the nerve to smirk like he’s winning, and he shouldn’t be doing none of that until he can give you a real good reason. “Alright.” He lifts his shoulders a little, all innocent like, with the smoke snaking up between you. “Then it’s cause you, you know, you…”

“Yeah?” You nod, pulling it out of him. “Go on.”

“You like to talk a little, you know.”

“Oh, I do?”

“Yeah, you do.”

And you’re not offended but it keeps going like you are, with a laugh stuck behind your teeth. “Always going on, am I?”

He smiles, easy like he’s not even got to try no more. “Got some real lips on you,” he says. 

You snort, big—so attractive, puffing it out your nose like that—and set your head on your hand. Elbow going right into some sticky spill of God knows what, too. “I don’t know if I hate it, or love it,” you tell him. “Feels like an insult and a compliment all in one.”

He points with his smoking finger, but not much cause he knows how close you are, just like you know how close he is. So aware of it, it’s making you breathe funny. “That’s how you know you got a name,” he says. “Half the guys, yeah, they hate what they get called, but no-one ever says anything about it.”

“Well we know I will,” you tell him, and then you’re both laughing. Real close, real warm, laughing like you’ve known each other years, not days—and Hell, it ain’t even that. You guys only just hit the twenty-four hour mark. It may be the most successful date-slash-dates that you’ve ever had, and it’s not even over yet. You don’t even have the guys full name or number.

“Your beer’s going warm, you know.”

Oh. You haven’t even touched it, or thought about touching it, since you started that whole thing about his divorce. But his own bottle goes up and back, then down again, empty, all while you’re watching him do it. So you push him yours after, letting him finish that one too. 

“You better get me a new one, then,” you say, while his lips are on the end still, cause you haven’t had enough of him yet. “Unless you wanna take me home?”

He stops for a second, half-way about to leave with a money clip already in his hand, just to look at you with a sort of smirk, sort of curious thing in his eye. Then he says, all low and cool with it, “That code for somethin?”

Well, you feel like you made a monster. He’s starting to get all sorts of familiar and now you’re him, you’re the wolf in that damn bar. 

“No,” you say, sounding like the liar that you sorta feel like you are, “it’s whatever. I didn’t say you’d be coming in now, did I?”

He laughs out his nose and nods like you said everything he wanted to hear, though really, you’ve got no idea what he wants from you. No other man you’ve ever said that to has cared to ask what you mean by it, even if you wanted it to be something or not, they always assumed it was meant the way they wanted it to mean, but not Johnny. Johnny looked more scared by the idea than he looked excited. Like he thought he was about to have to let you down all gentle like, slow and careful so your feelings didn’t get hurt. 

“I’ll get us some more,” he says, leaving for real that time, and his hand’s on your back until he’s too far away for his fingers to reach. 

It’s only when he’s gone that you figure he must’ve told all those guys to ignore you and him, just like you’d decided to ignore them, cause the second he’s gone they’re looking right over at you. Wahoo, Corky, all of them, but not that Benny. He either don’t care or hasn’t noticed, and for some reason or another, that makes you like him the most. Only one of them that can keep his eyes on his own nose and outta your business. The rest are bold enough to stare like you don���t see them, even talking and laughing the way boys do when the teacher goes for more chalk.

You try not to care but it’s starting to really itch. You’re rubbing your arms like they’re crawling all over you. 

“Here."

And Thank God he’s back. You take the beer and drink it like you’ve had nothing but sand in your mouth for days, which makes Johnny smile like you’re crazy, but you keep going. “That family of yours got no manners,” you tell him afterwards.

He doesn’t even look. “Yeah, yeah they’re like that,” is all he says about it. What a hero, right? He takes a sip of his own drink then wipes his lips dry with the back of his hand, and he catches you staring at him, but he says nothin about that neither. “You doing anything on Friday?” he asks.

“No.” Then you’re smiling and forgetting all about the rabble in the back. “Well, I wasn't until right now, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

He nods. That’s exactly what he’s getting at. Seems like he’s thinking to take up your whole calendar, one day at a time, and you’re not feeling like doing a damn thing about it. Go figure.

_____

part three >>>>>

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity @literally-lani