#stream hot sauce

[buggy-buddy]

What is Tango made of???

[skizz-that-man]

i was explaining to a friend what was up with grian getting stuck in his airplane seat and they just replied

grian getting stuck in a wall when

and i have to agree

[remotewatch]

a thousand assignments due tn haven’t started and I’m drafting and dreaming about Megan’s Coachella set instead

[todayisafridaynight]

plane scene is so funny cause why is mine a sleeper agent that wakes up whenever daigo is mentioned

can’t wait to see it in dragon engine :3

mine has been the winner for Funniest Character Imaginable for 15 consecutive years and i have yet to see anyone come close i fear

[fieriframes]

[...hot sauce in the mayo. It's a slow stream. Slow stream. And then the oil. So this kind of replaces the whole roux situation. I got you.]

[zh-lele]

WayV should have a comeback so they could remind ppl how music should sound like 😔

[liu-yu-xin]

It was literally in the show for 0.75 seconds but one of these milfs have a ringtone that is an nct song and an nct dream song at that because i heard renjuns voice

[jadeannbyrne]

Jade Ann Byrne’s 3:08 AM Cosmic Fried Chicken Burrito

Jade Ann Byrne’s 3:08 AM Cosmic Fried Chicken Burrito As broadcast live on Twitch, under the full California moonlight. Base Ingredients: Perfect. I’ve triple-checked everything now, and here’s your finalized, accurate, commission-ready itemized influencer product write-up—fully corrected with brand names, imagery confirmation, and magic Jade Ann Byrne flavor: Jade Ann Byrne’s 3:08 AM Cosmic…

[a-haunting-of-endermen]

@shadeswift99 well, you were curious........

wasnt gonna bring this one over initially but impulse himself liked it so. i guess that makes it tumblr worthy as well

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ 🍎 general headcanons / LADS (individual) x reader

synopsis; some headcanons of all the boys for your enjoyment!! mostly silly & domestic day-to-day life stuff!!

˙ ✩°˖ 💫 with xavier

⋆ xavier sleeps a lot, and you quickly find out that he has a tendency to latch onto things with a death grip when you sleep over for the first time. you knew he was strong, but not that strong — and you needed to go to the bathroom. operation "get out of xavier's grip" ends up with you giving up and hugging him back to sleep.

⋆ on a similar note, he tends to run hot. you notice that he doesn't really dress for the weather, and when you reach out to touch his cheeks, worried that he might be freezing, he just looks at you confused. you mirror his expression because how is he so warm in negative degrees weather? oh well, he makes for a great personal heater.

⋆ xavier's favorite artist is k.k. slider. you were playing ACNH together, and when he unlocks him, it's like a brand new world opened up to him. soothing and cheerful, he often hums bubblegum k.k. under his breath, and it always puts a smile on your face.

⋆ although you two are neighbors and can easily go over to one another's place, he loves hanging out with you via discord call. he streams himself playing RE7 to you, and you two just talk while he fights off jack baker, and he's thoroughly entertained by your shrieks when marguerite baker comes on screen.

⋆ lady luck has never been too kind to xavier. at least, that's what he tells you early on in the relationship when he talks about misplacing some items and having a hard time finding them. he calls you his lucky star when you find the things he lost, and you don't have it in you to tell him it's just because of his aloof nature.

˙ ✩°˖ ☃️ with zayne

⋆ zayne is stupidly good at video games. it drives you insane because you've never even seen him actively play games, but he somehow beats you every single time you two play a competitive game (except FPS games. he doesn't have the energy to be toxic while playing valorant).

⋆ his music taste is surprisingly varied. he has a preference for calmer songs and enjoys podcasts, but if you go through his saved songs, you might find some unexpected gems ("you listen to lucifer by shinee??" "it's a good song.").

⋆ he instinctively reaches out for your hand when you two are walking together. his hand feels too cold at times, and that's when he realizes something's off. zayne isn't one for grand public displays of affection, but he will always subconsciously make sure your hand is where it should be — laced with his.

⋆ zayne doesn't cry very easily, but if you look at him closely as he reads some books, you'll sometimes see his eyes turn a bit misty (tuesdays with morrie was one of those). same goes for certain movies — dead poets society and good will hunting will always make him sniffle a bit.

⋆ he adores animals, and you know that. however, you didn't know that he regularly visits the zoo and aquarium to sketch out the animals, often with a little smile on his face as he does it. the seals are his favorite to sketch. if you ever offer to organize his desk and office space, it is very likely that you'll find small drawings of penguins on post-it notes.

˙ ✩°˖ 🐟 with rafayel

⋆ rafayel LOVES kpop, especially red velvet. he's got the face and body of an idol, so it doesn't really surprise you when you find out — what does surprise you though, is finding his stan account. when you walk behind him as he types furiously on his phone, you catch a glimpse of his twitter activities; "maybe you don't like irene's comeback because you're not growing like a flower or unlocking superpowers idk girl" from user fishirene. his favorite song on the album is ka-ching by the way.

⋆ his spice tolerance is pitiful. of course, it's not so bad that he'll think pepper is spicy, but when you brought carbonara buldak as a snack for the two of you, he'll only use a fourth of the sauce packet. if you bring it up, he'll scoff and squeeze in the rest of the packet — you don't miss how his face is turning redder by the minute though.

⋆ he's incredibly educated when it comes to history. politics of the times play a major part in how the culture (thus the art) is manifested after all. he's not a big fan of reading, but he loves putting on an audiobook or a recording of a famous work of literature while he paints. oration on the dignity of man by pico has been fascinating him recently.

⋆ despite being an incredible artist, rafayel isn't immune to most artistic struggles. though he doesn't do portraits a lot, he still likes to practice (especially with your image in mind), and he could swear that the right eye is a bit droopier than the left one. god damn it — he needs to redraw it again.

⋆ he is so shameless sometimes, it ends up making you cringe. the type to loudly exclaim, "she said no pickles!!" when you two eat out at a restaurant together, and even though it's very sweet of him, the glare he gives the server makes you want to melt into your chair. when rafayel sees you turning the same shade as reddie, he just acts all smug and pokes at you teasingly.

˙ ✩°˖ 🐦‍⬛ with sylus

⋆ sylus cannot roll his Rs. try as he might, it seems to be the only thing keeping him from sounding like a local in a few languages. instead, his attempts sound more like Ws; his señora sounds more like a señowa. it's insanely adorable and makes you swoon when you find out — a cute gap moe of his.

⋆ he might be tone-deaf, but he is incredibly far from having beat deafness. you discover that when he invites you to dance with him. you also discover he's proficient at several partner dances, whether it be waltz, salsa, tango, you name it. his humming is a bit grating on the ears, but you're the one having a hard time keeping up when you're dancing with him to one of his new vinyl records.

⋆ when it comes to cats and dogs, sylus doesn't actually have much of a preference. he calls you kitten, but he's not impartial to dogs — if he had to pick an animal to keep by his side (other than mephisto), he'd go for a doberman or a great dane. something that matches his vibe. if you pay attention, you can catch him sneaking glances at your neighbor's doberman when you two pass them on a stroll.

⋆ sylus sneezes insanely loud. he doesn't get sick often, but when he does and he sneezes, you can't help jumping at how loud the sound is — and somehow he doesn't notice how loud it is. additionally, his genuine laugh (not his typical suave chuckle) is more akin to wheezing than anything else.

⋆ he loves when you ask him to feature in your tiktoks. of course, he'll always pretend to hesitate and will make you pay (likely with a kiss), but he adores it. his favorite video he's done with you, is the one where he lifts you up over his shoulder, along the lyrics to sabrina carpenter's slim pickins; "a boy who's jacked and kind". you blurred his face at his request, but he has the original video with his smitten smile and your giggles saved — he watches it daily.

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ with caleb

⋆ caleb is a toxic FPS gamer. you knew that already, but he will still act innocent with you, as if you can't hear him cursing out people in his room. he loves when you ask to play with him, and he will let you play on his account — even if it means his rank dropping from diamond to silver on valorant.

⋆ he's infuriatingly good at just dance. you've played it with him over at grandma's house for as long as you can remember, and while you do win sometimes, he is undeniably better. you're both sweaty from all the dancing and when he scores 10 points higher than you, he immediately tackles you while laughing; all while you groan since you swore you'd do the dishes if he won.

⋆ his music taste is horrendous. it's as if you took a frat boy, a popular high school girl and a nightcore kid and made them the same person. pitbull, bruno mars, imagine dragons, far east movement, twenty one pilots, weezer, and somehow, he only listens to their popular songs — like a G6 is his favorite track ever.

⋆ horror movies and caleb are never a good match. he's capable of separating them from reality, so once the movie is over, he stops being scared — if you come up behind him while he's watching one though, you might be able to make him jump. he will return the favor by using his evol to make things float and scare you later on though.

⋆ his camera roll is full of 0.5 forehead pics of you. his height is an advantage he's always so thankful for, and he will make sure to forever make use of it to its fullest. you will be sat down reading a book or scrolling on your phone, and here comes caleb, snapping a picture of you and getting away with a smile on his face while you whine out his name.

🍎 pomme's final notes - you got to the end!! as a treat here are the LIs as my favorite kpop groups & games :3c

💫 xavier - stardew valley / newjeans

☃️ zayne - cats organized neatly / nct dream

🐟 rafayel - escape simulator / red velvet

🐦‍⬛ sylus - buckshot roulette / exo

✈️ caleb - keep talking and nobody explodes / shinee

also, i linked all of the medias referenced for better understanding! that way everyone can enjoy the headcanons to their fullest hehe

[i-may-be-an-emu]

guess who just bought some chilli and jalapeño chips to eat while watching hot from the hip in solidarity :]

[ventismacchiato]

15 stuck with you — call me by your name !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

The universe had blessed you with great looks, being a well rounded idol, and a great personality. But you couldn’t have it all, which was why your inability to cook was a great target for your bandmates to bully you for. 

Which is why, of course, you found yourself in this stupid situation. You stood there partnered with Scara, attempting to make pizza. You’d both lost the clearly rigged game of flipping a coin, so you both were stuck making dinner whilst everyone else got to take a dip in the ocean. 

Scara, as usual, had already taken charge. His hands worked expertly as he kneaded the dough he prepared, as though he’d done this a thousand times before. You, on the other hand, stared at the array of ingredients in front of you, unsure where to even begin. You wanted to figure it out on your own, but the doubt gnawed at you. Asking Scara for help wasn’t exactly appealing.

You took a guess and reached for the cheese, only to feel a firm grip on your wrist.

“Make a sauce,” Scaramouche said, his voice flat as he moved your hands to the tomatoes. Without waiting for a response, he let go and turned back to the dough.

“Make a sauce…” you muttered under your breath, staring at the tomatoes in front of you. A knife. A tomato. You could do this, right?

Hesitantly, you picked up a tomato and a knife, trying to summon the courage to start. You glanced at Scara to see if you were on the right track, but he barely spared you a glance.

“Cut it. Season it. Mash it,” he listed, barely even pausing to look up.

You nodded to yourself, the motion almost robotic. You cut the tomato into halves, then quarters, feeling like you were somehow messing up. You caught yourself giving glances to Scara after doing every step, and with every insult that didn’t make its way out of his lips you knew you were on the right track.

There was a quiet rhythm settling between you two now, no arguing, no jabs, just the soft sound of knives against cutting boards and the occasional thump of dough being punched down. 

It’s been the most peaceful you two have been all week, or all year, really. You could see how focused he was on the dough, and that meant his brain was occupied with something other than thinking of new ways to mock you.

When you were done with the sauce and began spreading it on the dough, you glanced over at Scara, unsure of your technique. As you moved the spoon in circles, trying to make it look smooth, you caught him staring at you from the corner of your eye.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he muttered, his tone absent of any usual bite.

Your hand froze mid-motion, your chest tightening slightly. You braced for a snide comment or sarcastic remark, but instead, he simply pointed at the dough.

“Don’t spread it so thin. You’ll burn the edges. Keep it thicker in the middle.” His voice was still flat, but there was no teasing, no mockery. Weird.

You swallowed the brief pang of annoyance that usually came with being corrected by him. Instead, you tried to follow his instructions, spreading the sauce a bit thicker in the center as he suggested.

As much as you hated to admit it, there was something oddly pleasant about this quiet exchange. You were cooking. Actually cooking. With him. Instead of your usual encounters with him where you were always trying to perform better, this felt strange. It didn’t feel like you were rivals right now.

You were just two people making pizza.

Just as you were about to start on the toppings, you reached for the oven door, but your hand brushed against the hot metal. A sharp pain shot up your arm, and you yanked your hand back with a hiss.

“Idiot,” Scaramouche muttered, but his voice didn’t have its usual venom. He turned to you, his eyes briefly flashing with something else. 

Before you could say anything, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand under the cold stream of water at the sink.

“You really are stupid,” he grumbled, the concern underlying his words more noticeable now, “How do you fuck up so easily?”

You winced as the cold water hit your skin, but the sting of the burn seemed to lessen a little, even though your face was heating up from his proximity.

“Let me do the cooking,” he muttered, still holding your wrist firmly, his gaze flicking over to the pizza dough. “You're too clumsy in the kitchen.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just sighed, defeated, as you let him take over the pizzamaking process.

Once the pizza was finally in the oven, you hopped up to sit on the counter, feeling oddly tired from all the cooking, or lack thereof you’d done. Scaramouche, on the other hand, got started on setting up the teapot. You didn’t understand how he had the energy. 

“Should we call for the others while we wait?” you asked, looking at him. 

He didn’t even look up, sifting through the tea bags the kitchen had. “Nah,” he said, his voice calm. “It’ll ruin my peace.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You’d only asked out of politeness, expecting him to agree immediately. Normally, he couldn’t get away fast enough when you two were alone in a room. The idea of staying alone with you, let alone willingly, was something he seemed allergic to. But now, he seemed content as he pulled out two mugs for the tea.

“Want some?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared your cup.

“Sure,” you hummed.

He slid your mug towards you, then leaned against the counter opposite yours. You carefully picked up your mug, blowing on the hot surface before taking a sip. You didn’t need to burn yourself again in front of your rival.

Scaramouche’s eyes followed you from where he stood, half-lidded as he took a sip of his own tea. The kitchen was small, he was only a few inches away from being able to reach out and touch your knees if he wanted to. Not that you wanted him to, but he could.

“Don’t leave the bag in there too long,” he said, his voice low. “It’ll taste bitter.”

You look over to him, surprised at how casual he was, “Will you take it out for me?” you asked without thinking.

The words came out flirtier than you intended. Maybe it was the dim kitchen lights, or the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore. But there it was. You felt a strange, subtle pull in the air between you.

He walked over, practically stepping between your legs as he reached across to remove the bag for you. “You prefer it sweet, don’t you?”

Your eyes locked, a heartbeat passing between you.

“Sometimes,” you answered, your voice quieter than you’d planned. “Maybe try something bitter once in a while,” he replied.

The kitchen fell silent for a moment. Your chest felt tight, like you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t fully understand. 

Then, as if the universe decided to intervene, Yae’s voice crackled over the speakers, breaking the tension. “What the hell are we talking about?”

The tension shattered. You both jumped slightly, and the oven dinged just in time. Scaramouche pulled back quickly, moving to retrieve the pizza. Meanwhile, you stared at the dregs of your tea, expecting them to give you an answer like in Harry Potter. Instead you sat there wondering what the fuck just happened.

//

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

“Scara~,” Yae’s voice singsongs over the speakers, breaking through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. “You’re awfully nice today.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he points the knife in the direction of the speakers, though he’s pretty sure he’s way off. “Shut up,” he mutters, mostly to himself. Yae wasn’t here, but it felt good to direct the annoyance somewhere.

“You are so far off,” you comment from beside him, reaching over to help him cut the pizza toppings. Your fingers brush his briefly, and for a moment, he can’t quite place why that feels…different. Like it shouldn't feel like this, but it does.

He doesn’t say anything, just focusing on the task at hand, but his thoughts drift—just a little. When was the last time he felt okay with someone else in his space, without wanting to rush away? Usually, when you were close, he'd find any excuse to distance himself, but today? Today was different. He hated how soft it made him feel.

“You know, I never asked,” you murmur, voice suddenly quieter. “Why does your mom call you Kuni?”

Scaramouche freezes for a moment, the knife hovering above the pizza. He hadn’t expected that question, not from you. Of course, you’d be curious, everyone always was. But still, it felt strange to hear it out loud. 

Usually, he would’ve told you to mind your own business. But he finds himself answering.

“That’s my first name, Kunikuzushi” he says, trying to keep his tone casual, as if this wasn’t something only a few people knew, “I go by my middle name now.”

He’s sure you’ll leave it at that, like most people do. Most people weren’t interested in the reasons behind it. But you don't just let it go. Instead, you nod thoughtfully, your voice playful when you reply.

“A shame. Kuni’s a pretty name.”

Scaramouche doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn’t. His gaze shifts to you, catching your expression for a fleeting moment. You weren’t mocking him, not like everyone else. The way you said it, almost affectionate, it made something tighten in his chest.

He starts to walk past you, distracted by the sudden urge to leave. He doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to think about his past, his mother, or the name that still stings in the back of his mind. He’s always been Scaramouche. Always.

But then, your voice calls after him.

“Scara,” you say, drawing his attention, “Should I cut these?”

He pauses, his heart thumping harder in his chest for no reason at all. The way you say his name sounds so…different. Not like a taunt. Not like the sharp jab he’s used to hearing from you. Just your voice, and his name, and something about that makes his mouth go dry.

“Call me Kuni,” he says suddenly, before his brain can stop him. His tone is lower, quieter than usual. He’s not sure what he’s expecting from you—maybe a laugh, maybe a teasing remark. But when he looks at you, you just blink, confused for a moment.

“What?” you ask, clearly surprised.

“Call me Kuni,” he repeats, and this time, there’s something softer in his eyes. “When it’s just us.”

Your expression shifts, and he feels something flicker in the air between you two. It’s not the same tension he’s used to, but it’s almost like the opposite. Warmer, maybe.

You finally nod, the corners of your mouth twitching up as you respond with a simple, “Okay, Kuni.”

He doesn’t know why it feels like his chest has just opened up, but hearing you say it, so easily, without hesitation…it makes his throat tighten. He almost wants to ask you to say it again, just to feel that warmth again. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks away quickly, feeling the familiar sourness rise in his chest. The name, Kuni, used to make him think of nothing but anger. Of his mother’s voice, sharp and laced with disappointment. How she used to yell it at him when he messed up. 

It was a name filled with failure. So, eventually he stopped associating himself with it. He was nobody’s failure except his own. 

But when you said it, it sounded different. 

Softer. Warmer.

It felt like he was himself again.

He doesn’t know how to deal with that yet, and it’ll probably bite him in the ass later. He doesn’t know how to handle the way your words make the old wounds feel less jagged. 

But maybe he’ll let you call him Kuni a little longer. Just this once.

[00:00:15] COUPLE'S INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE TWO

YAE: Hi guys!

[XIAO NODS HIS HEAD IN GREETING]

[KAZUHA SMILES]

YAE: I'll skip past introductions and dive right into it. Xiao, Kazuha, is there something you want to tell us?

[JEAN AUDIBLY GROANS]

JEAN: Yae!

[YAE WAVES JEAN OFF BEHIND CAMERA]

XIAO: Tell you what?

YAE: You know.

[KAZUHA LOOKS AT YAE CONFUSED]

JEAN: Yae…

YAE: We know that you've been dating for years! Cat's out of the bag! Xiao's out of the closet!

JEAN, GASPING: Yae! Stop that!

XIAO: [EXHALES IN DEFEAT] No, it's okay, Jean. It was a little funny.

KAZUHA: [SMILES APOLOGETICALLY] How did you know?

YAE: I watched one too many conspiracy TikToks and it all started to make sense.

XIAO: You sound crazy.

YAE: But I was right!

KAZUHA: What now? Are we kicked off the show?

YAE: OMG, no! You're staying! Pretend to court each other again!

XIAO: Why?

YAE: Because! Wouldn't it be fun? Nice? Pretend to fall in love again and prank your friends? A deal you can't refuse!

[JEAN AUDIBLY SIGHS AGAIN]

[XIAO AND KAZUHA LOOK AT EACH OTHER]

KAZUHA: [SHRUGS] Could be fun?

XIAO, FONDLY: Could be fun.

[THE PAIR CONTINUE TO STARE AT EACH OTHER SMILING]

JEAN: Cut!

[00:00:00] TEA INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE ONE

YAE: So Scara. Or should I say…

SCARAMOUCHE: Don’t even.

YAE: [HIDES HER FACE BEHIND THE SCRIPT] SCARA. WE ALL HEARD IT. YOU LET YN CALL YOU KUNI.

SCARAMOUCHE: So?

YAE: So? SO?

SCARAMOUCHE: It’s just a nickname. Not a big deal.

YAE: If it’s not a big deal then can I call you Kuni?

SCARAMOUCHE: No.

YAE: Yeah, that’s what I thought. I didn’t know you had a soft side.

SCARAMOUCHE: [RAISES AN EYEBROW] I don’t.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Really? ‘Cause you just let someone call you by your first name—in front of cameras, no less. I think that counts as soft.

SCARAMOUCHE: [TONGUE IN CHEEK] Well, I don’t consider it soft.

YAE: [SMIRKS] Sure, sure. But if it’s just a name, why doesn’t anyone else get to use it?

SCARAMOUCHE: No comment.

YAE: Well I tried! CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

btw since ppl keep asking when he says bitter he means himself…! he’s implying yn usually prefers ppl who r sweet,,

i had to google how to make pizza for this bye

short chapter cus this was supposed to be the second half of the last chapter!!

also as usual any photos of yn don’t depict gender, race, or body type!! so pls don’t come for me it’s just for the pose

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — keep it in ur pants guys daddy kai gave you two updates in a week 😊😊

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse @migorengeaterrr

[unsuperingyournatural]

chemistry

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

The lights are warm. The cameras are rolling. And Pedro’s already throwing you under the bus.

“That was one time,” you say, half-laughing, half-mortified, as he grins at you from his chair. “My nails were wet.”

Pedro shrugs, shameless. “She ate an entire bowl of popcorn with chopsticks. And not even the long kind—the tiny ones from the sushi place.”

“I was being resourceful,” you shoot back, then lean toward the interviewer with mock seriousness. “This is what I’ve had to deal with for six months.”

Pedro leans toward his mic. “And I’ve loved every minute of it.”

You glance at him. He’s smiling so wide his eyes have nearly disappeared into those crinkles you’ve definitely stared at for too long on set. Your stomach flips, but you pretend it’s from the coffee.

The interviewer laughs. “I can already tell this is going to be fun. First question—how was it working together?”

Pedro wastes no time. “Terrible. She snores.”

Your mouth drops open. “I do not!”

“Okay, maybe not snoring, exactly,” he admits. “But you do this little sigh when you fall asleep during car rides.”

You blink. “You’ve watched me sleep?”

He gives you a look that’s far too confident for this early in the interview. “Of course.”

There’s a pause. The interviewer chuckles nervously, but you and Pedro are still staring at each other like you’re the only two people in the room.

It’s been like this since the table read—this strange gravitational pull, this banter that feels too natural. You’d both shown up in the same denim jacket, carrying the same iced coffee, and with—of all things—the same ridiculous cracked phone case with a tiny cartoon frog. He’d smiled when he saw yours. You’d cursed the universe and smiled right back.

“Okay,” the interviewer says, flipping to a new card, “lightning round. Say your answers at the same time. Ready?”

You nod, turning slightly toward Pedro. He does the same. The air shifts just a little, the way it always does when he’s close.

“Favorite comfort food?”

“Mac and cheese,” you both say.

You whip your head toward him. “No way.”

“Hot sauce on top,” he adds casually.

“Okay, that’s creepy.” You squint at him. “Do you have cameras in my apartment?”

“I don’t need cameras,” he says, lips twitching. “I just know you.”

Your pulse jumps at the way he says it—too smooth, too knowing, too much.

The next question comes fast. “Celebrity crush growing up?”

“Gillian Anderson,” Pedro says.

“David Duchovny,” you answer at the exact same time.

There’s a beat. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Are you guys serious?” the interviewer asks, eyes wide.

You laugh so hard you have to lean forward, your shoulder bumping into Pedro’s. He doesn’t move away.

“We’re just the same person in alternate timelines,” you say.

“I’ve been saying that,” Pedro agrees. “If you were a man, I’d probably have a confusing crush on you.”

You give him a sly look. “You already have a confusing crush on me.”

His smirk is slower this time, and when his eyes find yours, they don’t waver. “It’s not that confusing.”

Your breath catches, just a little. You wonder if the cameras picked that up.

“Okay, okay,” the interviewer says, waving a hand. “Before you two combust—what’s next for you?”

You shrug. “Hopefully another project together.”

“Or a cooking show,” Pedro adds. “Mac & Cheese with Hot Sauce: The Series.”

“Streaming nowhere,” you deadpan. “Because we forget to press record.”

“But the vibes?” he says, nudging your foot with his under the chairs.

“Impeccable,” you say, matching his smile.

There’s a pause after that. Not awkward—just full. Charged. You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved in that lazy smile that always gets you into trouble.

You lower your voice, just enough so the mic doesn’t pick it up.

“Still think it’s not a crush?”

Pedro leans in, close enough that you can smell coffee and something warm and familiar on his skin.

“I said it wasn’t confusing,” he murmurs.

Your heart does something stupid. You smile—maybe a little too wide—and turn back to the interviewer before you get carried away.

You tell yourself it’s just chemistry.

You tell yourself it’s just banter.

But the way he’s still watching you?

You’re starting to think it might be something else entirely.

[emchante]

OH another idea: cooking stream w max 😉 he’s wearing an apron with smt like “kiss the cook” but shirtless underneath, accidentally smearing sauce on his fingers and licking them clean, turning around to grab something from the cupboard and just showing off his back.. god i can go on and on about this

kiss the cock cook | m. verstappen

warnings: 18+/suggestive — minors dni.

DIIII OH MY GOD. you’re such a genius, your brain works in magical ways and i want to have it myself!!! the first post for this series went down well, so here you all go!!<3<3

one of the first few softcore porn streamer! max streams catch is a cooking stream. you know what his channel is now, after your first endeavour. you shouldn’t be surprised at what you see on the screen.

yet, you still are.

as soon as the ads finish rolling, the stream pops up on the screen. max is shirtless, under a dark apron. ‘kiss the cock’ is what’s written on it, but cock is scribbled off with a messy ‘cook’ above it. the apron allowed part of his soft chest to be on display. your eyes trailed down to see the apron wrapping around his soft hips perfectly, as the knot at the back held the apron together as tight as possible.

the camera angle was perfect— allowing you to see most of his top half, while leaving the rest to your imagination.

max knew his audience well, so he had an extra camera set up in the kitchen. it was a birds-eye view camera, a little box in the top right corner of the stream that was titled ‘hand cam’, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why it was there.

he was glancing at the chat as he put the ingredients for his cake in the large bowl. he smirked at some of the comments. “yes, i’m shirtless. no, i’m not trying to seduce you. my kitchen is hot, okay?” he tells the stream, acting innocent. if you really couldn’t tell though, the wink he gave the camera afterwards sold it.

he pondered for a moment before grabbing the camera above him, and moving it on the counter next to his bowl. “much better,” he muttered, before spreading his large hand across the bowl, as if to secure it. his other hand had an electric whisk, and he began to mix the ingredients together.

as he whisked, he glanced to the chat to see their reaction. he licked his lips before smirking, reading the comments as they came through. “i need him carnally.. this should be illegal..” he reads some, causing the influx of comments to worsen as they all try to be noticed by him. “max please.. please what, dear viewer? i need you to use your words for me,” he purrs, looking innocently into the camera.

the look he gives the camera sends a heat in your stomach. your thighs instinctively squeeze together at the sight, and your thoughts start racing. imagining him looking up at you like that, as you place yourself on his thighs. hands on his soft chest, pushing him down and telling him to use his words, finally switching the roles for once. how he’d deliciously beg and plead for you to—

fuck. what were you doing? you should not have been captivated so fast by him, but yet..

“anyways, i think that should be it mixed now,” max interrupts your internal conflict with his own words, turning off the whisk. he reaches out of from, and brings back another bowl. he tilts them both towards the camera to show the contents— cake batter in one, and thin icing in the other.

he eyes chat momentarily, smiling when the influx of ‘taste it!’ messages come flooding in. “you’re right, you’re right! i should taste it. how would i know if i liked what i made so far otherwise?” he questions, his index finger reaching into the first bowl.

he takes a scoop of the cake batter that looks entirely too appealing when it’s smeared along max’s finger. he slowly sucks it clean, pouty lips smacking gently when they touch again. his eyes flutter shut as a soft moan escapes from max, head tilting back.

“that is so fucking good, if only you guys could taste it,” he mumbles, licking any of the excess off of his lips as he reads the chat.

the heat in your belly was growing, the way he looked and the sounds he let out were amazing, and you needed more. you hadn’t chatted much in max’s chat, sending a few messages here and there. but tonight, you felt different. you needed more, and you were going to get it.

swallowing thickly you moved your hands to your keyboard, thinking about what you should type. your eyes scanned the screen.. and bingo. you knew what to do.

‘well you tried the batter, but what about the icing? just to be sure’

max is still reading over the chat when you send your message, and your heart skips a beat when you see his eyes widen. he stands up straight, looking into the camera with a small smirk.

“that’s a great idea, actually,” he praises, adding your username onto the end before he pulls the bowl of icing closer to him.

the icing was thin and white, from what you had seen when he showed the cameras. you watched as he plunged his index and middle finger into the bowl, pushing them right in before pulling them back out. the gooey icing dripped from the tip of his fingers, and had coated a thin layer over the rest of it.

he lifted his fingers to his mouth, stretching them to a ‘v’ shape as he licked through the middle of them. your cheeks flushed at the innuendo, and his chat clearly felt affected by it too judging by the spam. afterwards, he stared deep into the camera before pushing his fingers together, running his tongue along them in stripes to lick them clean.

his hand fell back to the counter as he swallowed thickly, before a low groan came from his throat. “fuck— that icing is amazing,” he starts, head lightly tilting back. “it’s perfectly sweet,” he adds, licking his lips clean as he reads the chat.

your heart was still racing at the look he was giving the camera, as well as the fact he had done as your message had said. your luck on his streams was unbelievable.. maybe you should start chatting more.

after that, max had went back to preparing the cupcakes in their cases that were sat in the tray. you had zoned out admittedly, not from the stream itself, just.. the baking aspect. you were more so focused on his large arms, watching them flex as he consistently moved around. your eyes were also glued to his chest, especially when he leaned over to read something from the book. the apron hung low as he did so, giving you a deeper look into his soft chest.

it didn’t take long for your attention to be peaked again, as max clapped his hands together, stating he was getting them ready for the oven.

“so, i have already preheated the oven,” he began to explain as he leaned over to his computer, messing about on obs. he stopped talking as he fixed what he needed to, and the next minute the main camera angle had switched— now, instead of the camera on the tripod, the main camera was the one on the counter initially used as the hand cam. now though, it was sat so it faced the right side of the kitchen, which included the oven.

“so no need to wait for that,” he finally finished, looking into the camera and giving it a smile before he stood up straight, grabbing the tray. he turned around and walked towards the oven slowly, as if he knew what he was doing.

max’s chat— and your internal thoughts— went back to their thirsting ways as max’s defined, toned back was on display. the comments honestly could’ve came from your mind, as they were along the same lines. ‘i need to scratch down his back’, ‘that back is looking a little bare.. let me fix that’, just to name a couple.

max stopped in his tracks, doing a 180 and walking back towards the counter. “oops, i forgot how long to put them in for,” he muttered, a small smile on his face that gave away his lies. it was obvious what he was doing, he simply just wanted to see the thirsty reactions. and god, did he get them.

“glad you’re all enjoying the view today,” he speaks up, turning back towards the oven and walking towards it, giving the fans what they wanted. then, he bent down towards the oven, giving the camera a perfect view of his curvy ass as he placed the tray in the oven. as he pulled the oven door back down, he pushed himself out further as a tease for the camera, before standing up straight again.

“it’s free today, you know,” he continues, referring to his last comment about the view. “but tomorrow? who knows,” he sighs, eyes scanning his chat as they burst into desperate pleads for him to keep slutting himself out for free.

max had decided to cut the stream off for a break while the cupcakes baked in the oven. he leaned against the counter, arms in front of him causing his chest to push together and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it.

“i’ll be back later, don’t you worry about that,” he reassures any worrying viewers with a wink. “thank you for joining, everyone. i’d say don’t forget to kiss the cook— but none of you can,” he pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “least you could do is send me a sub,” he adds cheekily, standing up straight. he begins to untie the knot from the back of the apron, causing the apron’s strings to drop to the side.

your eyes widened as he began to slowly lift the apron off of himself, allowing the viewers to see his soft body on display. his chat went crazy— from comments about grabbing his love handles, to marking his chest, to wanting to explore that happy trail— everyone enjoyed the view.

conveniently the countertop covered his boxers, therefore nobody could see there or below.

“i’ll be back later for you all, hopefully ready to show my cupcakes,” he smiles, reading the chat one last time.

‘what about your cake, max?’ is the last message he reads, causing him to burst out laughing.

“if we reach the big sub goal, maybe something can be arranged,” he teases, before the stream abruptly cuts off.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

[ginax0916]

✩ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 ✩

Sturniolo Triplets x bsf!fem!reader

Synopsis: The triplets try a period cramp simulator thinking it’ll be easy.

Warnings: period cramps ig?

*this is js platonic :)*

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆

“Hey guys welcome back to our YouTube! Today we have our best friend y/n here with us” Nick said as I waved to the camera smiling.

“Tell them what we’re doing today since you’ve been so enthusiastic about making this video” Matt says clearly not happy about the video idea.

“Well if you watched the boys stream the other day, Matt brought up that he bought a period cramp simulator but they’ve refused to use it. So with a little bit of begging and buying Chris a whole box of Pepsis I convinced them to film the video” I laughed excited to see their reactions to it.

“I’m so not excited for this” Chris groaned.

“I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be that bad” Nick says confidently.

“Whatever you say” I say giggling.

“Ok who first?” I ask.

“AHH OH MY GOD” Nick suddenly screams.

“What?” We all say scared from his sudden yelling.

“I searched up how bad period cramps hurt and it says that they can hurt as bad as a heart attack oh my lord” Nick says clearly scared out of his mind.

“Holy fuck” Matts jaw drops.

“Damn bro you gotta go through this shit every month?” Chris asks genuinely concerned.

“Unfortunately” I sigh.

“Alright who first?” I ask again, setting up all the equipment.

“Not it!” Chris screams.

“Not it!!” Nick screams right after him.

“Fuck fuck no” Matt panics.

“Ok come on Matt sit in the chair” I laugh.

“No I can’t I can’t” Matt says as he reluctantly sits in the chair.

“You’ll be fine” I giggle. “Ok lift up your shirt” I say.

“Oooooh it’s getting freaky” Chris says.

“Oh shut up” Nick slaps his arm.

I put the patches on Matt’s stomach and laughed at his flinching every time I put one on.

“Ok are you ready?” I ask him.

“Oh fuck Chris hold my hand” Matt says to Chris who was standing next to me.

“Ok we’ll start easy on level 1” I turn the machine on to the lowest level. Matt’s eyes close for a second and then he breathes out.

“Ok ok not that bad” He sighs.

“Level 2” I say turning the machine up a bit.

“Still not too bad just feels like a Stich” Matt says letting go of Chris’s hand.

“Level 3”

“Ok this one’s got a bit of a kick but not too bad” He breathes out again.

“4”

“Ow fuck this one feels like the type of stomachache you have after having too much hot sauce on something” He says making us all laugh.

“Level 5”

“Level 6”

“AH FUCK FUCK” Matt yells in pain reaching out for Chris’s hand again.

“Level 7”

“Oh my god stop it actually hurts like a bitch” Matt whimpers in pain.

“Someone’s gonna edit that” Nick comments making everyone laugh.

“Level 8”

“Y/n stop holy fucking shit I can’t” He moans in pain again. His head falling back as he closes his eyes.

“Come on get to 10 Matt” I say turning it up to level 9.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK” He moans loudly making his brothers laugh.

“And level 10” I say.

“Oh god. Oh fuck I can’t oh my god” Matt says gripping my arm with one hand and Chris’s hand with his other. Nick stood behind him massaging his shoulders dying of laughter.

“Ah- fuckkk” He whimpers “It hurts so bad fuck” Matt moans.

“How does it feel?” I ask softly.

“Turn it the fuck off oh my god” He moans.

“There you go” I say turning it off.

“Holy shit” He sighs in relief.

“Was it Bad?” Chris questions.

“It was fucking hell” Matt says clutching his stomach.

“Alright who next” I chuckle.

“Chris rock paper scissors shoot” Nick says.

“Ok ok loser goes” Chris states the obvious.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot” They play and Nick looses.

“FUCK OFF” Nick screams as get gets in the chair. 

I place the patches on him just like I did with Matt.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Fuck is Turn it up to level 4 straight away it can’t be that bad” Nick says with confidence but also fear.

“Damn Nick alright” I say turning it up to level 4.

“HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” Nick screams gripping the chair so hard his knuckles look like they might turn white.

“See Nick it is that bad” Matt says laughing.

“Shut up I realize that now” Nick says trying to punch his brother.

“Level 5”

“Fucking hell” Nick groans in pain.

“Level 6”

“JESUS OH MY” He screams again.

“Level 7”

“I hate you for my making me do this oh my god” He moans in pain just like Matt.

“Level 8”

“FUCK FUCK FUCK NO IT HURTS SO BAD” Nick yells stomping his feet on the ground almost making the chair fall back.

“Damn relax you beast you’re gonna break our floor” Chris laughs.

“FUCK IT I CANT” Nick rips off the patches and runs into the living room screaming making everyone die of laughter.

“Oh come on Nick you didn’t even get to 10 I bet I could” Chris says teasing his brother.

“You sure about that Chris?” I say pushing his shoulder with mine.

“Oh I’m sure” He smiles sitting on the chair lifting his shirt up.

“There’s gonna be a shit ton of edits of this” Matt sighs covering his face with his hands.

“I’m looking forward to it” I laugh.

“Ok you ready?” I ask Chris.

“Go for it” He replies, closing his eyes in fear.

“You’re Fine Chris this is only level 1” I say as I turn it on.

“Ok not bad Like Matt Said” he says.

“Level 2” He gets through all the easy levels not making a noise only scrunching his face once in a while. Even on level 4 he barely has a reaction.

“Damn Chris” I say stunned.

“Holy fuck dude I was screaming” Nick says baffled at Chris’s pain tolerance.

“Level 5”

And again no reaction from Chris, only a slight scrunch of his face.

“Bro how” Matt raises his voice flabbergasted at his brother.

“Alright Chris you’re doing a little too good I’m gonna turn it up to 8 which is where Nick gave up” I speak up wanting to see him have a reaction.

“Alright I’m ready” Chris breathes out.

“Ok Level 8” I turn it up.

“Ok fuck fuck this one actually hurts” Chris whimpers and grabs my arm.

“Level 9” I say happy that Chris finally reached a pain limit.

“Oh my god wait this actually hurts -ah fuck” He moans throwing his head back and squeezing my hand harder.

“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long without a reaction Chris” Matt says rubbing his shoulder still surprised.

“And level 10” I turn it up to the max.

“Ah- fuckkkkk it feels like a bunch of pin and needles playing with my intestines” He groans.

“Do you want me to turn it off ?” I ask him.

“No I wanna see how long I can last” Chris says whimpering again.

“That’s what she said” Nick bursts out laughing.

“Shut up Nick” I laugh.

“Oh my godddd -ah shit” Chris squirms in the seat scrunching his face in pain. He moves one of his hand to cover his mouth which is letting out soft moans and whimpers.

“You sound like you’re having an orgasm” Nick points out laughing.

“Shut the fuck up you couldn’t even get to 10” Chris argues.

Matt Starts uncontrollably laughing and rests his head on my shoulder as he laughs.

“You want me to turn it off now?” I ask.

“Fuck yes please oh god-” Chris groans in pain one last time before I turn the device off and take the patches off his stomach.

“I’m never doing that again” He sighs in relief and falls forward to rest on the table.

“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long” I say patting his back.

“That’s what she said” Nick laughs and runs away.

“SHUT UP NICK” Matt screams and chases after him.

“Well thanks for watching the video! Give it 100k likes for a part 2!” I say.

“NO NEVER” I hear them all scream.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆

I actually want them to do this video so bad 🙈

[thedilfdiaries]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.