#this hit me while i was eating hot chips

[x-atlas-x]

Jou, walking up to Yami: Oh, hey pal! Ya likin’ those chips?

Yami, holding a bag of spicy chips: I am.

Jou: Yeah, I can tell! You’ve got the red powder all over your hands.

Yami: …That’s blood.

[hvhvmoc]

♡♡♡

Characters : Art the Clown (Terrifier), afab!reader

Warnings/CW : blood, talks about murder, domesticity, HARD smut, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, squirting, oral (f! Receiving), Art himself, silly stuff, cussing, reader has a poochina, a lot of words, etc etc

A/N : IM BACK and OBSESSED with Art rn yall r gunna get sm of this clown omgggg (he looks so hot in that gif)

It's 8:50pm.

You're laying on your couch, your head on one armrest, your feet resting on the cushion. You're dressed in your pajamas, a soda on the coffee stand and a bag of chips in your arms. You watch your favorite show on the TV. Almost every light is off around you, which would scare anyone. Especially where you live, and knowing what- rather whos- been creeping around the streets recently. Lucky for you, you're dating him. So you'd say you're pretty safe. At least you hope so. The only light on is a small kitchen light, and the light coming from the TV screen.

There was three knocks at your front door, which was a couple feet away from where you're laying down. You recognized those knocks. "It's open!" You shout and shove some chips into your mouth. The door opens, revealing your murderous clown boyfriend, Art. He walks in, a frown on his face for a second before his grin returns. He shuts and locks the door behind him and he drops his bag full of weapons by the couch.

Art walks up to you happily and reaches over to hug you. That's when the familiar (too familiar) smell of blood hits your nose and you stop Art from hugging you. You get a better look at him, now realizing that he's covered in blood. The clown sulks a bit when he's rejected affection. "Babe, you need to shower."

Art rolls his eyes and leans back a little in the process, putting his hands up in a fake surrender. He looks side to side a couple times before he tries to hug you again, huffing dramatically when you again, refuse to touch him. "Go shower and we can cuddle." His mouth forms an "O" shape and his eyes widen. He nods vigorously and turns on his heels and speeds to the bathroom. You laugh and focus back on the TV and your snacks.

♡♡♡

After a while, you're still laying on the couch, sipping your soda and eating from your almost-finished bag of chips. Suddenly, right next to your ear, a loud squeak sound startles you. You jump (or if you're like me, you scream too) and look behind you where the noise was. And there he was; your boyfriend. He leaned back in silent laughter, pointing at you, still holding the horn he loves so much that he used to scare you.

You roll your eyes and laugh with him a little. Instead of his usual clown attire, he has a black T-shirt on, with the word "cunt" across the chest in white and black sweatpants. He still has his usual clowny makeup on, just now it's cleaned of blood. When laughter dies down, Art suddenly lunges at you, hugging you over the couch, tightly. You hug his arm. "Come around so we can cuddle." He instantly shoots up and scrambles to walk around the couch. You didn't have time to fully open your arms before he laid down on you. His arms wrap around you and he nuzzles his face in your chest.

You wrap your arms around Art, just as tightly as his arms wrap around you. His hands slide down your back and to your ass, a huge grins on his face, thought he's not looking at you. You let him feel you up and watch the TV. Until you feel Art squeeze your ass a couple times. He finally looks up, his shit-eating grin not leaving his face. "Art-" you look down at him. He maintains eye contact with you as he gives you a couple more squeezes, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You press your cheek against his head and laugh a little with him. "I love you," you tell him softly. He squeezes you tighter and kisses your collarbone. "Do you love me too?" He nods vigorously as a response, then sits up a little, outstretching his arms, seeming to say "this much", his smile not leaving his face. You smile up at him and he collapses again into your arms, squeezing you tight.

You continue to watch TV as Art snuggles against you, clinging onto you and locking his eyes onto your face; not once looking at the TV. You play with the tag on the back- inside of his shirt as his arms stay fully wrapped around your waist, forcing your back to arch a bit. You look over at the clock. 9:56 pm.

"Baby," you reach for the remote and turn off the TV and sit up a bit, "lets go to bed." Art wiggles his eyebrows at that and you just scoff as a reply. He gets up and so do you. Art bends his elbow to you, offering to hold your arm, almost like a butler would to the princess. His other hand on his hip and he continues to smile widely. You hook your arm into his and he happily guides you both to your shared bedroom. He opens the bedroom door and reaches in to find the lightswitch, his tongue sticking out in an almost cartoonish manner of concentration. His smile returns when he flicks on the light and he fully opens the door, let's go of your arm, and gestures you in, in a "ladies first" kind of manner. You tiredly laugh and walk into the room. Art shut the door behind him when he enters too.

You tear off your bra and pull down your pants, then climb under the covers. Art climbs into bed with you, immediately snuggling close to you, burying his face in your neck. After a while, he pulls away and points at his cheek. "Kiss?" He nods and you kiss where he pointed. He turns his face to show his other cheek, pointing to it too, and you kiss it. He turns again and points to the cheek you kissed first and you lean in to kiss it again, when he moves his head at the last minute, making you kiss his lips. He silently laughs, pointing at you, silently saying "gotcha!". "Hey!" You laugh.

You flip eachother over, getting on top of him. His mouth forms an "O" shape for a second before his grin returns and he wiggles his eyebrows, his hands tracing your back. "If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked." You kiss his lips and Art immediately presses his hand on the back of your head, tilting his head opposite of yours. You hum as you two kiss. You pulled away from the kiss, which makes Art frown, and he pushes you back into his lips. You smile and laugh a little bit kiss him back.

Arts hand goes down once again, giving your ass a playful squeeze. After a while of kissing, you two pull away and you lay on his side, looking up at him. How you loved this man. This sick, sick man. You both look at eachothers eyes, the only sound being heard is your breathing and an occasional car driving past coming for outside. You can't even hear him breathe. It's not like he's human anyway.

Art blows you a kiss, which you reply back with the back of your hand against your forehead, in a dramatic fashion, throwing your head back. Art holds you closely and buries his face into your neck, grinning. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised, as he slips his hand under your underwear, his hand now on your bare ass. When you look at him, silently questioning him, his eyebrow raises further up. "..finee." you roll your eyes and smile down at him.

Arts eyes light up instantly and he gets on top of you. He kisses your neck, rougher than his other kisses earlier that night. He grabs onto your hips and hoists you up so your head lays against the headboard, his body between your legs. Art dips his head down between your legs and bites your pantyline and tugs it off with his teeth, and painfully slow. He maintains eye contact the whole time and when you lock eyes with him, he wiggles his eyebrows in a playful manner, which you reply back with a breathy laugh.

Art pushes your legs back as far as they can comfortably go. He finally breaks eye contact to stare down at your pussy, licking his lips in an- again- almost cartoonish manner. He stays staring at it for seconds too long, making you look away a little embarrassed, feeling too exposed for too long now. Suddenly he dives in, not even going easy first. Your thighs tremble and you moan in suprise, your hands grabbing onto the bedsheets. Art goes from roughly sucking on your clit, shoving his tongue into you, and making out with your pussy, roughly moving his head side to side as he does. He occasionally looks up to watch your reaction to his movements, then looks back down at your pussy. He pulls away, making you look down at him. He uses one hand to point at the hand holding your legs apart. You caught the gist, replaces his hands on the back of your knees, opening your legs, with yours.

Once his hands are free, he licks his lips again and dives back in. Art uses his thumbs to spread you open, giving him more access. He goes faster and faster and you moan louder and louder. Your thighs tremble and Art continues eating you out. Art pulls away every so often, licking around your pussy, your inner thighs, and your ass; licking up your juices. He locks his lips around your clit and sucks roughly, moving his head side to side.

You moan louder and louder, warning him of your upcoming orgasm. He continues his movements, his hands gripping your hips and pressing his mouth impossibly closer to you. You grip onto your own thighs as your head rolls back, as your orgasm hits you like a train. You moan loudly, calling out his name, your legs threatening to close but your strong grip on them keeps them open. Art slows down just a little bit, but does stop. You squirm a little from the overstimulation as he continues.

After another minute of Art making out with your pussy, he pulls away, sitting up. His eyes stay locked on your pussy, his fingers teasing and tracing it. His hand goes to your thigh as you let go of your legs and they relax. Art grabs your chin, roughly but not enough to hurt, and he looks at you darkly. That stare would've scared anybody. But you've gotten used to it. You can tell what his eyes are telling you, rather than what his mouth can't. He kisses you roughly, and you taste yourself on his lips. How you're not covered in his face paint is beyond you. Maybe it's not face paint. Maybe it's just his face. Who knows?

Art pulls down his pants as he kisses you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He keeps his pants still on, but pulls it down just enough to where his dick is now exposed. He gives you no warning before he enters you, then wasting no time to start moving. You struggle to kiss him back, while you moan louder than you did when he ate you out a couple minutes ago. His hands grip your hips and he fucks into you roughly. You grip onto his arms as your back arches. Art bites down onto your neck, occasionally kissing it too.

Your head starts to go fuzzy as he continues his almost brutal pace, your hands on his back now, nails digging into his back. "Art...art- baby..." you moan out, making him look up at you. His expression looks relaxed but hungry, which was rare but not unusual. "Faster...I want more... give me everything you have..-!" You begged, but before you can finish your sentence, Art does exactly what you asked of him.

His pace is almost unhuman, and brutal. But really, that's all he is: unhuman and brutal. But it hurts so good. Your legs try to close, but with Arts body between them, they stay open. His eyes never leave your face as he continues. His signature grin returns- with no time for you to question the sudden expression change- and he delivers a couple rougher, harder thrusts into you, going deeper and deeper into you with each prolonged thrust.

You look up at him and he silently laughs before diving back in to attack your neck, and his fast, hard thrust come back. Your brain feels fuzzy, to the point where you're now just babbling nonsense into his ear as you moan. Your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble. After a bit of Art raming into you, seemingly, unmercifully and attacking your neck, you again warn him of your upcoming orgasm. His movements don't slow down, or speed up, as you cum for the second time that night. Even when the feeling subsides, he doesn't stop. He doesn't even slow down. He just sits up and looks into your eyes as he overstimulates you, again.

He picks up your legs, pressing your knees on either side of your chest as he continues. Drool collects a little on the corner of your mouth. You grip onto his arms as he (borderline creepily) smiles at you, showing no signs of stopping. You couldn't tell if you wanted to beg for more, or beg for mercy. "Art! Fuuuck!" You borderline scream, your nails digging into his arms as you cum again, this time squirting, making a mess on his shirt- that he was still wearing- ,his pants, and the bedsheets under you.

Art looks down as you make the mess, almost like in a trance. Your legs tremble in his grasp and he finally stops. He pulls out and looks up at you tired, fucked out face. His face looked suprise and points to the mess. "What?" You question, panting. He looks between your mess and your face a couple times, surprised. Art grins and flips you over to your stomach. You lay your head on pillows as Art lifts your hips up. His hands never leaves your hips, knowing your wobbly legs wouldn't be able to hold yourself up.

He enters you once again, making you moan, this time muffled by the pillow. His harsh pace from before starts up again and your eyes roll back and back arches. You moan loudly- again muffled by the pillow- as he continues. After a while, it seemed like Art didn't like how the pillow muffled your moans, so he digs his hand into your hair and pulls your head back. You continue moaning, blabbering his name, along with nonsense.

In the midst of your incoherent blabbering, you begged him for more, which he caught onto. Art throws your head back into the pillow and grip your hips harder. He goes harder, matching his speed, so much that it hurts. You moan loudly and your legs threaten to give out but Art keeps you on your knees. You turn to your head to look back at him, and he's grinning, like usual, looking at your reaction.

Art let's go of one of your hips, his hand roughly smacking your ass as he continues. When he heard your loud moan of a response, he deliveres another rough hit to the same spot. And another. And another. And a final one. He massages the spot he abused, not slowing down his thrusts for a second. You mutter to him that you're close and he continues his pace against you. You moan loudly as you cum, again.

And like everytime, he doesn't stop when you came. You reach back and grab onto his hand. He keeps going with his pace you again, make a mess on him and the bed. Your moans now sounding more broken and tired, but still loud. Even after you squirt for the second time tonight, Art didn't stop. He keeps his harsh pace until you feel him finish inside you and pulls out. Your body relaxes, but tenses up again when Art shoves two of his fingers into you, moving them in a rough pace.

You let out broken, sob-like moans as he continues, your thighs shaking. He keeps his pace steady and harsh until he sees you starting to squirt again. He quickly pulls out, and dives his face into your pussy as you cum, drinking your fluids. He grips onto your thighs as he cleans you up and sits up, finally. He flips you over so you're on your back, and stares at you face; red, lips puffy, eyes wet, and the corners of your mouth wet too (whether that be from drool and from he made out with you after he ate you out).

Art points at his now wet shirt, pants and the bedsheets, then pointing an accusing finger at you, moving his hands to rest on his hips as he nods, like a disappointed parent. "Your fault," you tiredly spit back. Art throws his hands up in a fake surrender and leans back a little and rolls his eyes. "Go change you're wet-" He grins at that. "That's what she said," You speak for him. Arts grin stays on his face as he gets up from the bed and changes clothes. Once he's changed and you slip your underwear back on, he crawls back into bed with you, covering the two of you in your blanket. He hugs you tightly, his grip more innocent now, his head on your chest. He traces a heart on your back, his own way of saying "I love you".

"I love you too," you whisper to him and he holds you tighter. "...so much." You mutter before falling asleep in his arms. Legs hurt, stomach aches, brains static, but hey, you're laying in bed with a torturous, brutal killer clown and you're alive. And loved by him. And every "pain" he does give you is always in bed. And you love it. ♡

I'm sorry if there's spelling mistakes I wrote this at 11pm, fell asleep, and finished it when I woke up 😭😭

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (35/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk - with Nightmare Coladas.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: love you. feedback is appreciated!

You are sitting on the sun bed when Charles rejoins you. He is holding a tray in his hands and as he places it on the floor next to you, you see that it is filled with sliced fruit. In addition to a plate of watermelon, there is a bowl of grapes, strawberries and raspberries.

“A good foundation is essential if you want to get drunk,” he grins and lies down next to you on the sun bed, a healthy distance between you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be better to eat something greasy then? Like fries or pizza?” you ask, helping yourself to a strawberry. 

“That's just the beginning,” he defends himself and nibbles on a piece of watermelon. “There are fries, mozzarella sticks and chicken nuggets in the oven.”

You have to grin. “Sounds like lunch for a five-year-old.”

Charles shrugs and pops a raspberry in his mouth. “You'll be able to drink like a grown-up in no time.”

“Touché.” 

The two of you lie next to each other in silence, enjoying the last rays of sunshine while you eat the fruit and wait for the timer on Charles' cell phone to beep. The water splashes against the sides of the boat, the smell of the sea hits your nose and if you didn't know that tomorrow is Christmas, you'd think it was a beautiful summer evening. 

“What would you like to drink?” Charles asks. 

You turn your head in his direction. “Do you have any sweet white wine?”

He nods. “I had Thomas bring your cheap wine,” he grins. "He didn't find it at first. Apparently you can only get it in the supermarket and not in a wine store."

You purse your lips. “Hey. The wine tastes good,” you say with mock offence, trying to suppress the thought that Charles sent Thomas out to get your favorite wine. Very thoughtful. “What are you about to drink?”

"There are quite a few drinks. Maybe I'll make myself a cocktail,” he considers, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "Maybe a piña colada? Or a sex on the beach?"

The way the word 'sex' rolls off his tongue makes the blood in your veins run hot. You bite into a piece of watermelon. “When are the fries ready?”

Just as you've said it, Charles' phone rings. He gets up and leaves the sun bed. “I'll be right back.”

You turn to him. “Do you want me to help you?” You're almost on your feet when Charles waves you off. 

“ It's all right.” 

While he disappears into the interior of his yacht, you also leave the sun bed to grab your camera and laptop, but instead of lying back on the sun bed at the back of the boat, you move the party around the bow, where there is another sun bed. From here, you have a wonderful view of Monaco - even if it is still some distance away from you. 

You start to edit a photo of Charles when he rejoins you - fries, mozzarella sticks and chicken nuggets on a tray. 

“Here you are,” he smiles, setting the food down. “I thought you'd jumped in the water and swum home.”

"Are you crazy? I'm sure the sea is freezing cold,” you reply and put your laptop to one side so you can grab a nugget. “I've already started editing a picture of you, by the way.”

Your friend plops down on the sun bed next to you. "And?” he asks. “Do I look good?”

You roll your eyes. “You always do,” you reply jokingly, hoping that he can't hear the truth in your words. 

“I know,” he grins and pops a chip in his mouth. "But seriously. Do you think the pictures are any good? For my Instagram profile, I mean."

Charles is a natural model. With his big eyes, deep dimples and beaming smile, he could even advertise haemorrhoid cream and look great doing it.

“Absolutely,” you smile and push your camera over to him. “See for yourself.”

While Charles looks at the many pictures on the small display, you continue to edit some pictures on your laptop. They are all good - thanks to his looks - but somehow none of them reflect Charles as you see him. They look posed, which isn't a bad thing in itself, but you had hoped to capture him with your lens in such a way that you could almost feel the closeness to him and his warmth. 

But you don't tell him that, after all he has to decide for himself which pictures he would like to put on the internet. 

“What do you think of this?” he asks and shows you the display. In the photo, he is standing at the wheel, his sunglasses are perched on his nose and he is smiling broadly over his shoulder, as if someone has said something funny. It's a good picture - objectively speaking.

“It's good,” you reply and bite into a mozzarella stick. The cheese almost burns the roof of your mouth, but you try not to let it show. 

Charles raises his eyebrow. “Just ‘good’?” he asks, looking at the picture again. “Okay, I'll find another one then.”

You shake your head vehemently. "No, Charles. It's a good photo, really,” you assure him. 

He's not buying it. “But?”

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “It - it looks so posed,” you answer honestly. "But maybe it only looks like that to me because I know it's fake, you know? Maybe I just can't see it."

He looks back from you to the display. “I know what you mean.” He presses his tongue into his cheek. "I'll take another one then. They're your photos. And I want you to feel comfortable with them too." 

You smile at him. You didn't know he cared so much about your opinion. "That's nice. Thank you."

Charles pops a French fry into his mouth. "Keep eating. Your wine is cold and just waiting for you to drink it."

You continue to eat in silence - Charles continues to rummage through your camera while you edit some pictures. The silence between you is comfortable and every now and then you smile at each other to reassure each other that everything is fine. 

When the last of the fries has been eaten, Charles stands up. "Very nice. Now it's time to start drinking,” he winks at you as he leaves the sun bed. “You want your wine, I guess?”

You nod. “Thomas shouldn't have made the trip to the supermarket for nothing,” you grin and cross your arms behind your head. You look at him. "But I think one glass is enough for now. Maybe I'd like to try one of your cocktails afterwards."

“Of course, Madame,” Charles replies and bows to you playfully like a servant to his queen. "Can I bring anything else? A pillow, perhaps?" 

You nod, beaming. “That would be great. Then the bed here will be even more comfortable."

Without another word, he disappears, the bowls and plates in his hands, while you close the laptop and put it to the side. You consider whether you should put the camera away too, but decide against it. Perhaps there would be another opportunity to take photos of Charles later.

A few minutes later, Charles reappears. He puts your wine glass down next to you and throws you two cushions. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure you'll want to stay here longer."

You look at him in confusion. “Why?”

With a nod of his head, he points to the shore. "When it gets dark - and I mean dark - Monaco lights up beautifully. And I don't want to deny you the sight,” he smiles. "I'm going to make myself a cocktail. Do you want me to bring you your sweater right away?"

“Yes, thank you,” you answer him. “And you really don't need any help?” you ask uncertainly. It's nice of him to go to all this trouble to make you feel comfortable, but you feel a bit like you're taking advantage of him. 

But Charles disagrees. "Stay put. You're my guest on this boat. I'll take care of everything while you lie there and look pretty." 

Before you can react to his words, he has disappeared again. 

Look pretty? Charles thinks you're pretty? 

You try to ignore his words, but they keep bubbling up. When he said he was afraid of losing you, he hit you hard. You would never let anything separate you again. You need him too much for that - and it seems he needs you too. Even if it's not the same way. But that's okay, you tell yourself. You'd rather have a piece of him than nothing at all. 

When he rejoins you, you seem to have almost forgotten his compliment. Or at least pushed it aside. 

“Here,” he says, handing you your sweater before setting some things down behind your head. There are several bottles, an ice bucket and a couple of shakers in the large basket. Then he carefully sits down next to you with his cocktail in hand. As he tastes it, he makes a brief grimace. 

You have to grin. “Too strong?” you ask him. 

“No,” he replies, but from the way he raises his eyebrows and turns his head away briefly, it's clear he's lying. 

“What did you mix?”

“Piña Colada.” He furrows his eyebrows. “But it tastes more like nightmare colada than pineapple.” He stretches out his arm and holds the glass out to you. “Have a taste.”

Without hesitation, you reach for the cocktail - still careful not to let your fingers touch - and sip the drink once. You look at him in amazement. “I don't know what your problem is,” you reply and take a big sip. “It tastes fantastic!”

Charles looks at you doubtfully. “Are you serious?”

“Definitely,” you confirm. “I'd offer you my wine, but you don't like sweet wine.”

“Give it to me,” he says unceremoniously and grabs the wine glass as you hold it out to him. Without hesitation, he puts the glass to his lips and drinks every last drop of the wine. "Sorry. I had to get rid of the horrible taste of that cocktail."

You look from the empty glass in his hand to his face in amazement. "Wow. So you think the piña colada is that bad. If you keep going like this, you'll be drunk in no time."

Charles reaches behind your head into the basket and pulls out a bottle of wine. “That was the plan, wasn't it?” Slowly and intently, he pours some of his dry wine into your glass, careful not to waste a single drop. “Don't tell me I did all of this  for nothing.” He points to the many shakers with a nod of his head. 

You curl your lips into a thin line. “Are you even allowed to drive the boat tomorrow if you still have alcohol in your blood?” you ask and take a sip of his - now your - cocktail, which, contrary to Charles' opinion, actually tastes phenomenal. 

“I don't know,” he replies and sips his wine. “But if need be, you and I can stay here another night.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas,” you remind him. "Your mom would be furious with us if we didn't show up for dinner. And then she'd kill us."

Your roommate shakes his head. "My mom loves you. She'd kill me without hesitation, but definitely not you." He leans back a little and rests his head in the pillow so that he's comfortable but still sitting upright enough to drink easily. 

“I think I'd stand up for you,” you say before taking another sip. 

The Monegasque looks at you, dumbfounded. “You think?”

The way he opens his eyes and looks at you, you can't help but burst out laughing. "Yeah. After all, I don't want to incur your mother's wrath. I like her far too much for that,” you say into your glass and look at him over the rim. 

Charles rolls his eyes. "You're being mean. I'll take you on my boat -"

“Yacht,” you correct him. 

"All right then. I take you on my yacht, where you can even spend the night, make you delicious food and offer you all the alcohol you can imagine - and you think you'd stand up for me?" Playfully hurt, he puts his hand on his chest. “Wow. I thought you'd care more about me.”

You do, you say in your mind. More than you'll ever know.

“Oh, come on.” You snuggle into your pillow too. "How many women have you taken here already, huh? Surely I'm not the only one you've spent a night with here." Realizing your choice of words, you clear your throat. “In a friendly or romantic way, I mean.” Even though you don't want to know the answer to how many women he's had here on the boat, curiosity wins out. 

Your roommate shrugs. “You're the only one,” he replies quietly before taking a sip of his wine. He avoids your gaze. 

Your head jerks in his direction. “Not even Annika?”

“Not even Annika,” he confirms to you. “I - I don't know - I took Annika out for a nice day at sea once, but we  went home at night. This is the first time I've been on a boat with someone other than my family and stayed the night."

His answer relieves you a little. Apparently you're not the next in a line of women Charles is spending the night with on his boat. And the fact that you're the only one, according to him, makes you feel a little happy. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” you start your sentence, “you're also the first person I spend the night with on a boat.” You smile at him. 

“It's not that difficult if you've never been on a boat before,” he replies with a grin. “And I thought it was a yacht?”

You roll your eyes. “Don't make me regret being on a boat on the open sea.”

As the wind sweeps around you and the sun disappears behind the horizon, you pull on your sweater. You feel Charles's gaze on you. “What?”

He shakes his head. "I thought the alcohol would warm you up a bit. But apparently you need to drink more."

You look into your cocktail glass. “I've almost finished your Nightmare Colada,” you defend yourself. 

"But only almost. Drink up, then I can pour you another one."

You raise your glass to your lips. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Maybe,” he grins and pulls a shaker out of the basket. "There's a little Nightmare Colada left, if you like. Otherwise there's still your wine, or Sex on the Beach, or schnapps."

You take the last sip of your cocktail and put the glass down for him to refill. Heat shoots into your face, which is almost certainly due to the alcohol - and definitely not the way he says the word 'sex'. "Your offer sounds tempting. I think I'll stick to the nightmare colada for now. We can always have the schnapps later."

Charles shakes the shaker briefly before carefully pouring the rest of the cocktail into your glass. “I haven't had a schnapps in ages.”

"Why? Is your nutritionist against it?” you ask him with a grin. 

“Yes, actually,” he replies and hands you your glass. "But I'm on vacation at the moment, so I don't really care. That's why I had the chicken nuggets."

You raise your eyebrow. “I thought the chicken nuggets were there so we wouldn't get drunk straight away?”

Your friend shakes his head. "Actually, you had chicken nuggets because, culinarily speaking, you stayed somewhere between canned soup and Big Mac. That's what Lando said anyway." 

The fact that he remembered that warms your heart. A little something you didn't think he would remember. 

"There's also dessert, by the way, if you're still a little hungry. Chocolate muffins,” he smiles. "But maybe we'll save them for later, when we're drunk. They'll taste even better then."

“Muffins?” you ask in surprise. When Charles nods, blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” His voice is soft and warm. He briefly puts his glass to one side and pulls on his white sweater. 

“Are you cold?” you joke, sipping your cocktail. 

“Haha.” He rolls his eyes and adjusts the bandana that is still tied around his head. “Even if the alcohol warms me on the inside, I can be cold on the outside.”

“But make me look stupid for it,” you retort playfully. 

"Sure. It's just pretty easy to drive you up the wall."

“What do you mean -” you start your question, but he jumps up from the sun bed as if stung by a tarantula. 

“There!” He goes to the railing in front of you and holds on tight. “I told you.”

You carefully put your glass to one side and stand up too. When you see what he means, your breath catches in your throat. 

Monaco shines in front of you in the dark and the water reflects the light beautifully. Charles hasn't promised too much. 

You stand next to him with your mouth open, your eyes fixed on the beautiful Monaco. “It is - breathtaking.”

“It is,” Charles replies quietly. You don't notice him looking at you. “Breathtaking.” He‘s almost ashamed at how beautiful you look to him. He has to look away.

The Monaco in front of you glistens and sparkles, captivating you so much that an idea occurs to you. With quick - and slightly swaying - steps, you walk back and grab your camera before standing on the sun bed. The cocktail has done a good job, because the cushion under your feet feels like jelly, so you need a moment to find your footing.

Charles is apparently just as fascinated by the view as you are, because he doesn't seem to notice that you've moved away from him. He continues to look ahead, towards his home, while you take a photo of him. A single photo - and when you look at it on your camera, you could cry. 

“That's it,” you smile. 

“Huh?” Charles turns to you questioningly. “What's what?”

You proudly hand him your camera. “This is the picture.” 

He looks at it briefly before glancing at you. A smile spreads across his face. “I knew it was a good idea to bring you here.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he closes his mouth again before handing the camera back to you.

“Maybe you should hire me,” you joke, sending the picture to your phone and then sending it to him. 

“Maybe I should.” His smile is warm and electrifying and luminous. He's beaming - like the Monaco behind him. 

God, he's the most beautiful man in the world. 

“But first -” he walks around you, staggers across the sun bed and leans forward to fish a bottle out of the basket. “But first - comes the schnapps.”

[ynsvnte]

Our world collided ! — Nishimura Riki

Genre: fluff, angst-ish.. Drabble, opposites attract, friends to lovers, childhood best friends, high school au

wc: 1.2k+ (1238)

warnings: kissing (like once), pet names (pretty girl), jealousy

pairing: emo!niki x coquette!reader

Masterlist

“Okay that’s enough” Niki says while pushing your hands off his hair.

“What—no I’m not even close to being done..!?” You complained, hoping he’ll let you continue to let you play with his hair. The current situation being that Niki’s hair being into pigtails along with some of your hair bows attached. You thought it was cute..while he thought the opposite. “It’s hurting my scalp, take these off me now..” he demanded.. you noticed the slight pout only his face. Making you chuckle.

“I’d rather not..” you say, squishing his cheeks. He rolls his eyes before grabbing a hold of your wrist and pulling it away from him.. “I warned you..” That’s all you heard until you felt the wall against your back.. you close your eyes at the impact until a few seconds past and you open them seeing Niki infront of you kneeling down to reach your height.. your heart sped up from him being this close..

“Umm…” you say hoping he would (not) back away. Niki gets closer noses barely centimeters from touching each other.. you breathe hitched. Niki notices this, smirking.. you could feel your face getting hot. You felt like he was going to kiss you.. that’s until he pulls his face away from yours.. laughing at your reaction.. “Why so shy..hmm?” He asked while smirking.. you glare up at him, clearly embarrassed.

But that won’t stop him from teasing you. “I’m not shy..just..surprised..” You said your gaze softened..you glance up, he’s staring at you.. you look away before walking away from him..disappointed.. Niki sighs at the sight of you walking away.. “Did I really make her upset?” He asks himself, wondering.

The school day was near the end.. you looked up the clock.. 15 more minutes left and then you can leave. You’re lucky this time you don’t have class with Niki. As you only have 2 with him and lunch period. You got distracted, letting time fly by quickly. You check the clock again..so so so close only 2 minutes.. you just go ahead and start packing up your things..within those 2 minutes the bell finally rings dismissing all the students for the day. You past students trying to avoid bumping into Niki ever since what happened earlier. You really had your hopes up, expecting him to like you after all these years of being friends and yet…nothing. You quickly pick up your pace and walk out the gate.. you usually walk home with Niki as your both next door neighbors having your moms be best friends back in their days. You don’t see him anywhere, not bothering to wait too..you just start walking home..alone which is rare.

You’ve made it home taking off your shoes and tossing them out of your way. You set your bag down. Walking to your room. Opening the door you rush towards your bed, jumping onto it. Letting the cool sheets hit your face. Your aching body feels better when the feeling of your bed hits it. You rest a bit before leaving your room seeing what’s there to eat. While you wait for your mom to come home.. you find some kind of chips and decide to snack on it.

You make your way over to the living room..you can see through the sheer curtain.. something catches your eye.. two figures walking.. side by side. You walk a little bit closer seeing its Niki.. and another girl.. you don’t know her..never seen her either.. you frown at the sight in front of you.. “that should be me” you thought.. you noticed he still had the bows you used on him from earlier.. clipped to his bag. You take one more look before you see them both entering his house.. you just too push whatever just happened out of your mind.

Hours later..you couldn’t stop thinking about Niki with another girl aside from you? You knew he was earlier scared by girls no matter who it was except for you of course.. the unknown girl left about an hour ago you look out your bedroom window seeing the light in Niki’s on. You see the cup and strings from your window from the outside.. that’s how you and Niki used to communicate.. you resist using it.. thinking it seems foolish.. but you decided to anyway.. you open up your window.. a gust of wind blowing your hair out of your face.

You pick up the cup.. tapping into it 2 times remembering the code you both set up a long time ago. You weren’t expecting him to answer.. a few moments of silence passed you debated to go back inside or try again, before tapping your finger twice again.. you hear his window open up.. you look up seeing him.. in a basic black tee.. yet he looked so good. Moonlight shining his skin.. giving it a youthful look. Niki was in the same daze as you admiring your face.. doe eyes.. staring straight right at him.. plump lips he wishes to one day kiss. Niki slowly picks up the cup speaking into it.

“Need something..?” He says, your throat goes dry.. it’s like you never talked to him before. You clear your throat.. “Umm—can I get my hair bows back..I’m using it for tomorrow..” you made that up..it was the only believable one to get an excuse to talk to him.. “oh I don’t know if I can throw it at you..” “no I mean can I come over just for a bit..” you say.

You can see his reaction slightly confused but agreed anyway. You take a short trip to his house..going through the back door like it was your own home. You go up to his room. You knock before he opens the door for you. Niki is met with you and your hello kitty pajamas.. and hair in 2 braids decorated with bows. “Hi..” you said slowly.. Niki moves aside allowing you to enter. You keep your gaze low, but from a far you can see your bows.. you quickly grabbed it.. “That’s all?” Niki asks..

“Yes..wait actually yea.. no I mean no….i still have something to ask” Niki close the door, sitting down on his bed.. “yeah?” You get embarrassed to ask this but you continue on.. “Umm..I was wondering who that girl was..that you know you were walking with earlier..” you said avoiding his gaze completely. You hear him chuckle lightly.. “that..oh well..she just wanted to hang out..knowing her intentions..but don’t worry I don’t like her..” “why would I be worried if she likes you or—“ Your voice slowly fades away when you realize Niki's face is close up to yours. “There’s no denying it..I can see right through you..” you knew you were already blushing by now. “Not that I would want you to deny it..because..I so happen to feel the same..” he added smiling at you. You never see him smile. Always having a blank face for most part. Niki holds your jaw bringing your face closer to his before colliding your lips together. Lips against lips. His soft lips against yours. The kiss was tender..slow.. moments later he pulls away.. “Now pretty girl, care to cuddle..” he offered, holding his arms out.. you smiled at him.. “Of course”

Author’s note: get a little inspiration from the book I’m reading rn which is if he had been with me RAHH 🦅 back with my writing haven’t written for Niki in so long along with sunoo WHICH I NEED TO DO ASAP! Crazy how this was in my drabbels for 2 days while my hee one is a month and it’s not coming out anytime soon 🙄💀

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[stuckyslut8]

Gimme a big boy

Pairing : chubby bucky x baker reader

Summary : you love baking, you love bucky, bucky loves you and bucky loves your baking.

Warning :18 + under the cut . fluff, smut, riding while eating (quite dangerous) ,sex isn't cardio...or is it?,creampie,chubby bucky, needy bucky , bucky has a dirty mouth, bucky can't resisit you. Typos.

You loved baking, loved experimenting with all the new recipes you'd come up with and occasionally try some vintage ones too in your own little bakery you owned in brooklyn.

So it was no surprise when james Buchanan barnes was roaminf around brooklyn one day, reminiscing his childhood and looking at how much things had changed around here over the years, he stumbled upon your bakery, the smell of freshly baked croissants could take him anywhere. And one look at you ,he knew he was in trouble.

It took him a little push from Steve to ask you out and you immediately said yes. And the rest is history.

You were currently riding bucky on the couch of your apartment, while he was sampling your newly made batch of creme brulee donuts. You were gripping onto his love handles ,bouncing on his cock in a slow phase allowing him to have the pleasure of your pussy and the taste of the donuts at the same time, "fuck pretty girl , go faster i can take it, i wanna cum in you before i finish the last of this batch,they're so good."

And you did as he said, quickening your phase making, moaning as you did so, "you feel so good bucky, soo big."

"Just like that doll keep going, i want that pretty little pussy - ah fuck I'm gonna come." And he filled you with his hot ropes of cum.

"You're gonna choke when we do this one day." You said out of breath, bucky still in you, not wanting to let go of his warmth.

"and it'll still be worth it pretty girl. " he said giving you his dreamy grin. "I think that's the best way to die , still buried in your pussy."

You hit him playfully on his shoulders at his answer, "shut up, now lemme go check on the cookies." You tried to move and get his cock out of you, but in vain as bucky pulled you towards him, making his cock move deeper in you, bucky was clearly enjoying your whimpers.

"No way, i just ate all of those cream donuts, now i gotta do my cardio." He shifted you on the couch so he was on top of you.

"Buckyy Sex isn't cardio and i need to check on the cooki- ahh " you could barley finish your sentence as he stared pounding into you, making you cry in pleasure.

"You don't get it i need this pretty girl, I've gained so much pounds because of ya it's only fair you help he lose them, isn't it?" He asked with a smirk on his face, as he watched you writhe in pleasure, barely able to nod at his words.

While it was true that bucky had gained some pounds because of your amazing baking skills, but poor bucky could never resist you or the sweet little treats you made especially for him. He had never had someone care for him so much in all these years, so when he'd wake up to the smell of freshly baked muffins that you put in extra chocolate chips in just for him ,he couldn't say no. When you'd bring your delicious brownies to him and the team in the middle of the day, just because you missed him, he couldn't say no. when you'd made him his mom's famous apple pie, he swore he could've married you right then. And of course he couldn't say no to you. And he knew you thoroughly enjoyed feeding your man.

And just as he was done with you , you heard the timer you set for the cookies. So you rushed to look at them. They were a little overcooked but would be perfect for the night out you'd planned with the girls.

"You know sweets i think you need to stop baking all this stuff." Looking at his little pudge annoyingly.

"I'm a baker bucky that's what i do and that's how i made you mine in the first place." You reminded your sweet boyfriend.

"But look at what you're doing to me sweets, " he whined poking at his belly, "I've gained over 14 pounds since i first saw ya"

"And you look fucking sexy ,so stop complaining. " you said working on clearing up the table.

"I'm not complaining." He said coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around tour waist." I'm so lucky to have a girl that bakes me the sweetest stuff but i gotta get back in shape ya know." He said playing with your nipples through the thin camisole you were wearing.

"Well why don't you do that next month, cuz you're birthday is coming up and I plan on making you the best cake ever and all your favorite pies."

Bucky pretended to think for a moment, "well if you insist sweets, that's alright with me." Bucky's fingers started moving towards your panties again, you tried to swat it away. "You know i need to taste my sweet pussy now, don't deny me."

"No way barnes, my day is so full today, i don't have time for this, i gotta go."

"You're gonna regret denying me doll. " bucky said as you left the room with a smirk on your face, you obviously know that you're gonna regret it but in the best way possible.

You thought about the last time you left bucky hanging, he tied you up and ate you out until you'd passed out as punishment. You wondered what he was gonna do this time.

A/N : i know this is a bit all over the place i almost choked cuz i was drinking something while writing this. Couldn't bother with correcting it.

[bxeckersz]

your child is kicking my ass | Paige Bueckers x pregnant reader

summary: y/n is feeling bad while paige is at practice

warnings: language, pain

a/n: ive been obsessed w paige x pregnant reader so here is this 😭😭.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I feel like shit. I’ve been having contractions all day, it’s hot, and on top of that, Paige has been gone all day. I groan as I pull my phone out to text Paige.

wife 🤞💞💍

baby where r u

paigey 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

im at practice still y? do u need anything?

wife🤞💞💍

im having contractions again

and i miss u

and im hungry

and its hot

and i feel like shit

and ive been throwing up all day

your daughter is kicking my ass

paigey 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

chipotle or wing stop

wife🤞💞💍

huh?

paigey 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

im omw home, chipotle, wing stop, or do you want something else?

wife 🤞💞💍

chipotle

wait Geno let you leave?

paigey 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yeah i told him you were feeling bad

wife🤞💞💍

baby you should’ve stayed at practice

read 5:37 pm

I roll my eyes, throwing my phone back down. Paige has the tendency to leave practice if i text her. I turn on the TV to watch something to distract myself in the meantime. I drift off to sleep while watching.

“Hey, baby” I hear gently, waking me up. “hm” I hum, sitting up. I look up to see Paige standing there in her practice clothes with a chipotle bag and her gym bag in one hand and multiple bags in the other.

“Paige” I whine, immediately feeling the pain as i get up. “What’s wrong, baby?” Paige says, dropping her bags and running up to me. “It just- it just hurts” I groan, going back to sit down.

“Sit down, baby. I got it, don’t get up” Paige soothes, sitting me back down. “I got snacks and Chipotle. I also found this heating pack thing- the girl helped me find it because i was lost” Paige rambles with a smile on her face.

“Thank you, baby” I say, quietly. “you’re welcome” Paige says, setting the things out in front of me. “You wanna go in the room?” Paige asks me. “mhm” I nod.

“okay, are you sure you can walk?” Paige asks. “Yes, Paige.” I sigh, walking into the room as Paige follows behind with everything in hand.

“Okay, ima go take a shower and you can find a movie” Paige says, setting everything down. “Mhm” I nod as Paige walks into the bathroom.

A couple minutes later Paige walks back in the room, putting on some boxers and a sports bra. “Did you find a movie?” Paige asks, kissing my cheek and laying next to me.

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna start it without you” I whisper, showing her the movie. “Here’s your food” Paige says, handing me a burrito bowl. “And I got you ice cream, chips, cookies, candy, and drinks” She finishes, pulling the things out the bag.

“Thank you, baby. I love you” I say, pressing a small kiss on her lips. “mhm, I love you too” Paige says, starting the movie.

“It’s called 5 Feet Away” I say, eating my food. “mm” paige nods, watching the movie as she cuddles against me.

☆

“ow” I groan. It’s 11 pm, Paige is sleeping and her daughter won’t leave me alone. “hm?” Paige stirs.

“shit. Ow” I say, tearing up. “What’s wrong, baby?” Paige says, sitting up. “It- it hurts baby. really bad” I cry, gripping the sheet in pain. “here, take this” Paige says, handing me a pain pill.

“shit” I groan. “It’s oaky, baby” Paige soothes, rubbing my back. I don’t know what hits me but i feel emotional all of a sudden. “Paige, what if i’m a bad mom” I cry.

“Baby, you’re gonna be a great mom. I promise” Paige says, wiping my tears. “but-“ I start before Paige cuts me off.

“Y/n you’re gonna be such a good mom, okay?” Paige says, more directly now. I nod while sniffing. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed” Paige whispers, pulling me into her carefully.

“I love you” I whisper into her neck. “I love you too” Paige whispers back as we fall back asleep.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thanks for reading! the ending was totally rushed but thats wtv 😭😭. also i literally dont know what this title is..

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — first date (yjw)

pairing. class prez! yang jungwon x fem! reader synopsis. awkward first date w/ won genre. f2l fluff wc. 1733 notes. ft. minji & riki library.

"i don't know what to wear!" you told minji through your phone. twenty minutes left before jungwon would be there to pick you up and your once clean bedroom looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

last week jungwon confessed to you. well, riki accidentally confessed to you for him.

you had seen riki's messages to jungwon as you played a game on his phone during lunch. all the messages sent consisted of riki teasing him about his crush.

stomach dropping as you thought that your crush could be crushing on that wasn't you. you also felt bad for invading his privacy when you tried to turn the phone off. however, curiosity got the best of you, nearly throwing the phone across the room, until riki said your name.

a sense of relief hit you, letting out a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

when jungwon returned to the classroom with some drinks from the vending machine you slowly gave his phone back. after he started frantically apologizing you reassured him that you shouldn't have kept reading the texts but glad you did since now you knew the feelings were reciprocated.

you were thankful that you and jungwon always ate alone in the student council room since he had all day access to it being class president. he was also glad that the confession happened privately.

jungwon asked you out on a date and now it was d-day.

unfortunately for you, he hadn't told you where you were going. not even a single hint. so there was no way to know what was appropriate to wear.

"he said comfortable! i'm sure shorts and a t-shirt will be fine!" minji advised, currently doing something on her computer, and barely paying attention to you.

"what if he means comfortable like watching a movie comfortable? what if i’m overdressed or even worse underdressed? what if i get cold-" you rambled, holding up different shirts in the mirror up to your front.

"how about you keep those shorts, the blue crewneck, and wear a cute tank top underneath in case you get hot." minji suggested, eating some chips.

"you're a genius!"

quickly grabbing the items she instructed you to get and throwing them on. afterwards, picking up the mountains of clothes on your floor, folding them, and shoving them back in your drawers.

by the time your room was cleared jungwon's contact appeared on your screen. ending the call with minji after she wished you good luck you rushed downstairs.

jungwon was already standing at your doorstep as you saw from the window. he rang the doorbell and you were quick to open it before your little sister could.

"hey ____," jungwon stood on the porch, coincidentally wearing a blue sweater in a similar shade to yours.

"hi!" your younger sister greeted him before you. "she opened the door before i could!" she whined, crossing her arms.

"i told you don't answer the door to strangers," you patted her head.

"why did you answer the door then? he's not a stranger if you-"

you smiled at jungwon, letting him into the house while ushering your sister to the other room.

"let me just tie my shoes-" you went to sit, reaching down to your feet. 

jungwon didn't say anything before kneeling in front of you and tying the laces of your sneakers up for you. you found yourself flustered, cheeks feeling warm from his gesture.

"oh thanks," you said once he stood back up, reaching a hand out to bring you up off the couch.

"let's go?" he asked, staring down at you.

"yeah," you replied shakily.

it was weird being nervous around jungwon, you had hung out with him alone plenty of times when you didn't know if he liked you back. nonetheless, you let him intertwine your hands and lead you to his car. he opened the passenger door for you, waiting for you to get in before shutting it and looping around to get into the driver's seat.

"so where are we going?" you asked, buckling your seatbelt.

"it's a surprise ____," he laughed, starting up the car and driving off.

the car ride was around fifteen minutes. you looked out the window listening to the music jungwon had been playing until you recognized where you were.

the beach.

"why did you let me wear sneakers?" you frowned, looking down at your shoes and thinking about getting sand in your shoes.

"i'm wearing sneakers too," jungwon started, turning into the parking lot. "i brought us slides don't worry."

jungwon parked the car close to where the stand started and exited the car. circling around the front to open your door for you. after helping you out he opened the back of his car to get the said slides and some sand toys.

while he was busy doing that you took off your shoes and left them on the floor of the passenger’s seat. jungwon dropped a pair of his slides that were slightly too big for you in front of you and then you both started walking through the sand.

you followed jungwon as he picked a spot for you guys to sit. he set down a towel big enough for the both of you and patted the spot next to him for you to sit.

"can we make a sand castle?"

"that's why i stole riki's sand toys," jungwon laughed, his dimple becoming more prominent. "don't tell him i told you these were his."

"i wouldn't!" you giggled, poking his dimple.

picking up the medium-sized bucket and shovel you remember that you needed wet sand.

jungwon was a step ahead of you already. he knew how much you hated the feeling of sand sticking to your feet after touching the water so he wordlessly picked up one of the other buckets and strides towards the shore.

"here," he set the water-filled bucket next to you. his sleeves were rolled up and his hands were dripping with ocean water, his veins showing.

you thanked him and got to work, mixing the water into the dry sand in front of you. then packing it into the castle-shaped mold as jungwon watched from beside you.

"you should make your own," you looked over to your date. "i doubt it will be better than mine though!"

"you're on!" jungwon nudged you with his shoulder and started working on his own.

by the time you had both finished you had added some seashells on top of yours while jungwon eventually gave up and started writing random things in the sand.

you excitedly showed him your final work and he swore he could kiss you right then and there.

jungwon snapped a couple of candid photos of you while you were caught up making your sand castle. saving them so he could change his wallpaper to you when he got home.

you asked him if he wanted to look for shells and he accepted.

"won look at this shell!" you held up a small shiny orange shell for him to see. "you can have it." you placed it in his hand.

he took the shell, sliding it into his pocket, then held your hand in his as you continued walking down the beach.

you continued to pick up shells and talk jungwon's ear off. he simply just let you drag him along and keep the shells you liked in his pocket for you.

eventually, you had enough of walking up and down the shore, probably picking up all the shells you stumbled upon you stopped walking, which made jungwon nearly bump into you.

"ew i don't want to go back in the sand," you whined, staring down at how your feet were drenched in the ocean water. the coolness of the water felt nice two minutes ago but now you had to make it back to the blanket feeling the texture of wet sand all over your feet.

"come here," jungwon instructed, removing his hands from his pockets.

"what?" confused, you turned around to face him.

then he suddenly picked you up and started running back to your spot.

"hey put me down!" you lightly hit his chest.

"we both know you would be complaining if you had to step in the sand with wet feet," jungwon set you down on the towel, picking up the toys from earlier and putting them all together before laying down next to you. a somewhat comfortable silence took over you both of you.

"hi," you said as you laid back facing him.

"hi," he stared back at you, his eyes still glued on the sky.

"why are we so awkward," you laughed, thinking about how today lacked all of the normal conversations you had before confessing to each other.

"i don't know about you but i'm nervous," jungwon confessed, turning over to face you.

"i'm only nervous because you've barely said a word to me this whole time," you sighed, staring up at him.

"you look pretty today."

"you're changing the subject-"

"that's why i'm nervous," jungwon rested a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "we've been friends for so long, and now that we're on a date i'm blanking."

"let's just pretend this is a normal hangout," you suggested, returning to resting flat on your back.

"____, can i kiss you?"

"that's not what you would say at a regular hangout-" you felt your face warm up as you awkwardly scratched your neck.

"yeah because we're on a date," he sat up, waiting for you to mirror him, which you did. "i'm going to ask you again ____, can i kiss you?"

"um," you stared at him like a deer in headlights.

jungwon moved closer to cup one side of your face, noses brushing against each other. his minty breath hit your lips and filled your senses.

"so can i kiss you?" he asked one more time, barely above a whisper.

"yeah," you shakily replied, letting your eyes fall shut.

satisfied with your answer, he finally let his lips collide with yours. kissing you gently for a couple of seconds before pulling away to look at you. he let out a chuckle when your eyes were still tightly shut.

"you can open your eyes now," jungwon brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i knew that!"

jungwon grinned and went back in for another kiss.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook wants you all for himself (and bam) and you buy him flowers.

> fluff, a little angst / wc: 2.8k

> warnings: jk gets pissed off at a guy who tries hitting on you T_T, making out!!

note: i couldn’t resist and here i am with the post-jungkook live effect [deep sigh] as always i hope you enjoy and i also hope you let me know if you did <333

—

standing infront of the door of your apartment, you struggle to unlock it with your fingerprint because of the paper bag you’re hugging to your chest and the small bouquet of red roses occupying your other hand. in the end, you decide to put down the paper bag on the cold tiled floor. you press your index finger on the rectangular pad above the numbers before turning the doorknob.

the familiar ringing of the door opening and closing make jungkook and bam comically perk up at the same time. the dog stands up by resting his front legs on the backrest of the sofa, tail excitedly wagging as he anticipates your arrival in the living room.

“hello, baby. i’m home.” you sweetly hum as you pad across the floor with your feet only clad in white socks after lazily leaving your shoes by the doormat.

jungkook isn’t even sure if you meant ‘baby’ as in him or bam, but that thought shortly gets pushed to the back of his mind when his confused doe eyes zoom in on the flowers you’re securely cradling.

relieving yourself of its weight, you finally set down the paper bag from the convenience store, sliding your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants to leave it on top of the center table as well. bam jumps off the sofa sniffing loudly at the flowers, but you quickly raise your arm to put it out of his reach.

“no- no, bamie. you can’t eat this! this is for your daddy.” you tell him with a giggle, digging your hand into the paper bag to dish out the new toy you bought him.

“for me?” your boyfriend chips in to the conversation with a toothy grin, but his question is left unanswered as you squeeze the yellow fish to make it squeak.

the high-pitched sound makes bam hyper. he stretches out his front legs forward, leaning down on his elbows — a posture that usually indicates that he wants to play. you throw the toy into the air and it lands near his house. he runs after it not even a second later, nails clicking against the floor. he carries it in his mouth and jumps on the other corner of the couch, living in his own little bubble to chew to his heart’s desire.

jungkook steals this opportunity to snake an arm around your waist, pulling you down to the open space next to him. you whimper in surprise as you fall on top of the bundle of blanket he abandoned, lifting your butt quickly to remove it from under you. bam inches closer to snuggle against the soft cotton, ears abruptly moving in curiosity when he successfully makes the toy squeak too.

“where are these from, huh? was someone trying to steal you away from me again?”

they almost make you instantaneously melt — his deep voice laced with half humor and half truth of bitterness, accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hip.

“babe!” you scold him with a laugh to mask how flustered you’ve become, as if you’re still not used to his flirting after all these years. “i passed by a flower shop on the way home and i thought i should be the one to buy them for you for a change.”

you extend the hand holding the bouquet, eyes twinkling with devotion that causes his resolve to crumble into ruins. it never stood a chance in the first place.

—

you walked away from the cashier while stuffing the book you just bought inside your tote bag, the man you strongly refused to allow and pay for it still hot on your heels.

“wait! i’m sorry. let me just- uh-”

you froze awkwardly before the lean and blonde stranger who blocked your path to the door, probably standing somewhere around 5’10. based on his complete nike get-up, you were pretty sure he was outside for an afternoon jog.

“i just wanted to let you know that i think you’re very beautiful, and maybe ask if we can hang out this weekend? at my place?”

and you could tell he was trying his best to appear confident, but the shaky hand that was holding out the bouquet of fresh tulips betrayed him. it was the first time in your life that you found your favorite flowers to be undesirable, no matter how perfectly and intricately arranged the beautiful colors were.

‘at my place?’ what the hell happened to chivalry? oh, a lost art indeed.

despite being extremely irritated at him for causing an embarrassing scene infront of the cashier earlier in addition to this, you forced yourself to give him an apologetic smile for the sake of being polite.

that was when jungkook came back after buying two cups of hotteok from a cart only half a block away. his walking pace slowed down as he watched the scene unfold through the glass separating the bookstore from the sidewalk, eyebrows knitting in growing confusion and annoyance. he failed to read your lips while you were talking. by then he was already prepared to join the conversation, even more after he realized that he recognized the man.

however, before he could reach the door, you were already pushing it open. the gush of wind blew through your hair, and your face lit up when you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend holding your favorite snack. with a thrilled smile, you practically skipped your way to him and took the cup from his left hand.

“you got them! the line was pretty long so i thought they would sell out before your tur-”

your smile slowly faded when you realized he wasn’t listening. jungkook’s eyes were too busy shooting daggers at the stranger walking to the trash can, jaw clenching when he saw how aggressively he slammed down your dearly beloved flowers. he was the only one to notice the lone orange tulip that slipped and fell on the ground, firmly rejected and thoughtlessly discarded.

your warm hand held his cheek, gently coaxing him to look at you instead.

“what did he say? did he touch you?”

it’s very rare to see jungkook this seriously angry. therefore, you are only reminded at times like this that he can be scary if he wants to. at first, you thought his protectiveness would only last until the early stages of your relationship and eventually fade like those who came before him, but he never changed.

you shook your head, rubbing his arm in an attempt to soothe his temper. “no, not at all. he was kind of stubborn but i handled it just fine.”

he only nodded in response, features still hardened, but relief washed over him after confirming that nothing dangerous happened to you while he was gone. but he was swept off his feet before his mind could run for another mile. you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, the torrid kiss you granted him with lasting seconds. insatiably craving more of your ministrations, he made a move to chase your lips, but a rude car honk jolted him awake to the fact that you were still in public.

you gave him a coy smile. “want to eat ramen with me at home? i’m getting cold.”

“let’s go home, baby.” he hummed in agreement. “i’ll warm you up.” he hung his tattooed arm over your shoulder, guiding you to his other side to put himself between you and the rushing vehicles passing by.

he spared another sharp glance at the bookstore before walking away. he met the eyes of the asshole who has been indiscreetly observing you still regardless of the disaster that just transpired. he panicked at the interaction and turned on his heel, disappearing into the fiction aisle.

jungkook smirked, shaking his head in disdain before taking the first bite off his hotteok.

—

walking didn’t seem to help shake off his inflexible thoughts.

“something still bothers me about that guy.” he mumbled after tossing your empty cups in the trash bin you passed by.

“what is it?” you frowned worriedly, intertwining your fingers with his. by this time the glorious sun has started to set, splashing the sky with light orange paint that reflected on his honey skin.

“he was already there when we went in the bookstore. i know he saw us holding hands. i’m obviously your boyfriend.” vexation continued to run in his veins until it dripped from his tongue. his satoori accent came out thick and heavy as he spoke with wide, expressive eyes. “and he still had the fucking audacity to go out and buy you flowers?”

your lips parted open in surprise, tilting your head to the side as you tried to recall the surroundings when you entered the establishment earlier. no wonder he was instantly upset and worried.

“i don’t remember seeing him . . . but you know, if he’s as brazen as you think he is, why did he only approach me when you left?”

your stream of thoughts got interrupted by a scandalous gasp when you arrived at a new angle of looking at the situation.

“he invited me to his place.” you halted on your tracks, glaring back at your previous location. you were already five blocks away from the bookstore, and you wish he could magically feel the negative energy you were exuding from the distance. “so did he really think i’m that kind of-”

you instinctively pulled back your boyfriend by tightly grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. “hey! where are you going?”

his jaw clenched, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek — telltale signs that he was unquestionably pissed off. “baby, i won’t let that one slide.”

alright, this is not good. not good at all. perhaps you should start learning how to stop saying your thoughts out loud.

“but he’s not worth the time.” you pouted sadly, wrapping your arms around his waist so he wouldn’t be able to walk away. “i just want to go home and cuddle with you and our child while watching the new chainsaw man e-p.”

he breathed out a sigh to compose himself. the proposition you laid out was undeniably irresistible, albeit a bait of distraction. but he knew you were just keeping him in check before he impulsively acts again. he gave your forehead a chaste kiss, honeyed lips a little sticky from the sugar syrup of the hotteok filling.

“okay then. let’s do that.”

—

“are you still annoyed about yesterday?” you poke his soft cheek with your index finger. “hey, look at this. i got six red roses for a reason . . . you are my one and only.”

you point at each flower as you slowly speak the sentence word by word, and his heart overflows with fondness as he watches. when you innocently look up to meet his gaze with a hopeful smile, saying the words- “i would’ve gotten you a fancier arrangement but i don’t want your allergies acting up.”

that is his final straw.

“shit, baby. why are you so damn cute? what am i going to do with you?” he accepts the bouquet with a lighthearted chuckle, setting it down on the table before attacking you with his affection.

you end up falling on your back as he climbs over you. you giggle uncontrollably when he holds your wrists and traps your thighs in between his knees anchored on the cushion, tirelessly peppering your face and neck with love-fueled kisses.

the noisy disturbance distracts bam from his squeaky yellow fish. he jumps off the couch to stand beside you and jungkook, licking at whatever his tongue reaches. for you, it’s your arm held folded by your boyfriend.

“it tickles! you know it tickles there!” you squeal, squirming beneath him. you feel his frisky lips curve into a smile against the left side of your neck, stubbornly planting more kisses on the expanse of your skin.

“mhmm, i love you. i love you.” he hazily chants, drunk in love, tracing his way back to your lips. “i love you so much.”

that’s when he decides he’s finished with innocent pecks, delicate hands releasing your wrists to properly balance himself on top of you. you tenderly caress his face as he deepens the kiss, coaxing you to part your lips so he can dip his playful tongue in your mouth. when he tilts his head to the side so his nose won’t bump against yours, your hand slides to the back to support it, fingers tangling with his long and fluffy hair. a desperate, filthy moan escapes from his throat as you unconsciously tug, prompted by his soft nibbling at your bottom lip. it sends tingles running through your spine like live wire, and the air engulfing the two of you becomes hotter and heavier.

he parts away from you breathless, resting his forehead on yours before pulling himself up again. “fuck. is this how you feel when i buy you flowers?”

you gingerly brush his undereye with the pad of your thumb, finding yourself deeply fascinated with his dilated pupils staring right back at you.

you lick your swollen lips, front teeth digging on your bottom lip. “i should’ve done it sooner, right? i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. you already give me so much, silly.” he softly pecks your lips again. “besides, your presence is my favorite gift. you’re a blessing to me, you know that?”

you smile shyly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his random confessions of overwhelmingly sincere adoration never fails to elicit a giddy reaction from you. “i love you.”

“ah- ouch.” a wince shortly replaces your smile when bam jumps on the couch again, accidentally stepping on your hair.

“bam, sit, sit. sit down.” jungkook rises to kneel on his knees, moving forward until they reach your waist. bam obeys his command, and your hands find purchase on the flesh of his thighs as he releases your hair from under the dog’s paws.

“i’ll go put the flowers in the vase.” he cheerfully announces as he cautiously removes himself on top of you, planting his feet on the ground.

“okaaay.” you drag out the word as you sit up on the couch. while he takes the bouquet of roses with him to the kitchen, bam finally finds the chance to leave the toy on your lap, but not before he gives it a good bite to make it squeak.

you pet his long floppy ears as he licks your cheek and then your hands, urging you to play with him using the gift you bought him. you press quick kisses on the top of his head before squeezing the yellow fish, waving it infront of his face.

“do you want to play, bamie? should we? will you bring it back to me?”

he starts panting as if to answer ‘yes’ to all of your questions.

you throw the toy at the kitchen, and you cover your mouth out of reflex to suppress your laughter when it landed on the dining table, only a few inches away from jungkook. he pauses from plucking off the leaves from the stem of each rose, jokingly raising an eyebrow at bam, who is balancing himself standing up by using his body as a support.

he picks up the toy and dangles it above bam, speaking to him in a baby voice. “is this what you’re looking for? aw, really? you want it? go take it then . . . that’s it, good boy!”

bam easily catches it with his mouth, running back to you so he can complete the mission you gave him. he drops it on your lap again, bumping his nose against yours, and you dramatically collapse on the couch. he starts sniffing at you curiously, front paw poking your shoulder once to gauge your reaction.

your eyes only open half-way, and you spread out your arms to show him the space you created for him. “bam, i’m sleepy- sleep. i need to recharge. can we play again later?”

he lies down on his back and uses your arm as a pillow, rolling around for a bit until he chooses to curl up beside you in the end, his upper body resting on your stomach.

“ugh, you’re so heavy. can’t. breathe.” you mutter under your breath, but nevertheless, you stroke his side lovingly until you both completely doze off for an afternoon nap.

jungkook squints at the living room when the apartment got suspiciously quiet, lips forming a pout.

“are you two cuddling? i still need to trim the stems- save me some space!”

—

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[fanaticsnail]

hi sis can you write me a sanji fic pleaseeeeeee

One hurt/comfort Sanji fic here for you, Smol-Snail.

Limits

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,500+

Synopsis: Baratie has been overbooked, and the tension in the kitchen has been overwhelming. Being a hard-working kitchen hand, you have been covering far too many shifts. Sensing the overwhelm, your coworker attempts to aid you through your emotions.

Themes: Sanji x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, kitchen slang, eating food, minor swearing, fluff, angst, domesticity, hidden feelings, almost kisses, playful banter, nicknames.

Notes: Spoiling my sister usually includes Mihawk or Garp, but I am absolutely loving the change. Thanks for the ask, sis! Hope you like it. Also, gosh it's good to be back in Baratie again.

The crackle of water hitting a pan of hot oil popped and simmered, a string of curses and yells following the large rukkus. Voices overlapping, music blaring, orders expediting, and the clangs of silverware shuddering with ceramics in water continued to mute their tones in the air surrounding the lively kitchen of Baratie.

It had been a mean shift tonight. The restaurant was overbooked, over packed, and overwhelmed. Guests on the waiting list were made to wait longer than they had anticipated, adding to tempers flaring and temperaments turning foul on all sides. The front of house were begging with the back of house, the back of house pleading with the front of house. Chef Zeff had even jumped on the line, cooking alongside the lot of you to fight against the rush. The thump of his peg leg hitting the linoleum swelled within the serenade of the lively kitchen, the chorus finally rising without any indication of an interlude.

“Carne, 'hot behind', damn it!” Zeff growled angrily while standing to full stature. Carne was holding a tray of simmering desserts at chest height behind him while shifting from one surface to the other. “Communicate, kitchen. Ya’ hear?”

“Oui chef!” The kitchen all repeated the phrase like a prayer on their tongues to their hierarchical clergyman.

“Ca Marche-!”

“Sharps-!”

“Plate up-!”

“Push-!”

“To the pass-!”

“Through-!”

Sanji stalked through the rows up until the pass, pacing two and fro while jumping in to aid all those that needed support. Garnishing mains, whipping cream for desserts, assorting steel bowls of oils and accompaniments to coincide with breads and greens: Sanji did it all. Each time he stepped in to aid in the dance of the kitchen, his eyes fell to your frame to mentally check in.

Eyes down, shoulders hunched, rubber gloves thrust up to your elbows, you ensured the kitchen remained functional with the fluctuation of crockery, cutlery and dishes for truly impeccable service. The kitchen-hand, or 'Dish Pig', was the backbone to a functional restaurant, the mental wellbeing of the house truly on the shoulders of that individual.

How could a chef create masterpieces without a canvas? How could guests in the dining hall consume their delectable arrangements without the means to raise each bite to their lips? The kitchen-hand ensured all was possible, and the chefs barely paid you any heed while you slaved away to grant them relief in their supplies.

You attempted to hone in on your craft, using your fingernails beneath the rubber gloves to chip at caramelized and caked scorches on iron pots like a scourer. Breaths heavy and labored, you shifted everything from your focus asside from one thing and one thing only:

Keep the kitchen clean.

Bubbles and suds consumed your senses, your hair sticking to your forehead in heavy clumps of sweat and soap. Your nostrils flared with the burn of eucalyptus, lemon and menthol. Working a fortnight of splits and doubles to cover for your colleagues had finally taken its toll on you, and stressors in your personal life added to the tension in your bones. The loss on your own mentality began to slip into a panic as another wave of silverware made their way to your arm side.

The mention of, “‘Ere ye’ go, dish pig. Clean up,” barely phased you, regardless to the usual playful temperament you displayed. You didn't even crack the smile you usually had on your face, your permanent exhaustion falling in the emotionless and dead-stare you displayed down at the dish rack.

The kitchen has began to pack down. Each element was extinguished, and stock was taken alongside a final tally. The chefs had removed their aprons, cravats and hats and began making their way towards the bar for their knockoffs. Your own drink would have to wait, the pile never reducing no matter how hard you had worked.

For each plate you cleared and cleaned, four more would somehow find their way to your hands. Each pot would have a lid to match, each pan would have an array of spatula, tongs, and forks to pair with. The chefs used the tools of their artistry with reckless abandon, and it was now you who was paying the price for their carelessness.

“A'ight, beers? That what we're drinkin'?” Patty clapped his hands and rubbed them enthusiastically together. Carne barked out a long string of laughter, allowing himself to succumb to the relief that came from a grueling shift while he clapped his hand over Patty’s bicep.

“I'm keen on one of them steins we just got in,” he admitted, squeezing lightly before looking to Zeff, “Is that on the menu for knock offs, chef?”

“Only is if you save two for me, you prick,” Zeff stated affectionately, “Give us a pale or an amber, I'll be in my office takin’ a damn breath. What about you, little eggplant? What are you drinkin’ tonight?”

Sanji hadn't spoken a word since he hung up his apron. He had been keeping an eye on you throughout your shift, feeling the tension waft in your aura the longer you silently chipped away at your monotonous task.

“I'm gonna have a cigarette,” he nodded to the head chef without moving his eyes away from you. “Then I think I'll sample that new amaretto rum you got in.” Sanji moved to Zeff’s side, casually glancing back at you while lowering his tone to the head chef, “But first, I'm gonna stay here a while. Leave inventory to me, and I'll take care of it, old man.”

Zeff noticed the drop in Sanji’s usual cadence and finally took notice to the quiver in your shoulders. With a curt nod, Zeff turned to both Patty and Carne and spoke to them with a simple scowl that meant: ‘Get out of the kitchen, now’. The two chefs quickly looked between Zeff and Sanji, then to the source of the noise continuing to fall from the underappreciated corner of the kitchen. With a nod of their own, they silently excused themselves from the kitchen with Zeff trailing behind them.

Where Sanji would've placed an unlit cigarette between his teeth and stalked out behind them, he would never do that without you. Both of you were similar in ages, and the rapport and camaraderie had always been a highlight to his kitchen shifts. The two of you were more than coworkers, more than simple friends, and you both lived and breathed Baratie in your own ways. You both loved that place, thrived on the chaotic energy working the line, and adored spending time in the dark before the next shift would begin.

The only difference between you is Sanji had been working his usual shifts, and you had been overworked far beyond your natural capacity lately. You were running low on mental energy, and you were taking it out on the dishes you were cleaning.

Wiping, scrubbing, clawing, patting, drying, prying, stacking, and placing away in their delegated areas: you had not spoken a word for the whole shift. Nothing more than a soft, shaky breath expelling from an otherwise vacant expression, nobody would know if anything was occurring within the battle of your mind.

But Sanji did.

Unhooking his apron and rolling up the sleeves of his uniform jacket, he placed it over his neck and slowly moved over to work silently in an unoccupied station. Several containers of various raw ingredients were hastily removed from their spots. Pots, water, flours, sugars, utensils and plates were all set up by his skilled hands: making something of your youth that he knew would bring you comfort.

Rolling glutinous rice flour into small balls with regular flour and water, he stuffed them full of purple adzuki mix, hazelnut white chocolate, and yuzu-honey dew custard. Placing the small balls in a steamer, he set a mental timer to check on them after a few minutes. Not his usual method to make dango, but he wanted to experiment for you.

He knew better than to disturb you when you were like this, and he allowed you to work out whatever was brewing in your mind on the dishes you were cleaning. He looked to the bowls and dishes he had just made in crafting you something delectable and grimaced.

‘All of those dishes just to make a simple dessert,’ he mentally scolded himself, ‘And that's just one piece of the kitchen. You're taking care of everyone’s dishes here, not just the kitchen’s.’ He gently lifted the lid of the bamboo steamer to gauge the consistency of the circular treats, nodding to himself once he viewed the squishy exterior.

Plating up the dish by patting them dry and rolling them in rice flour, he softly approached you with the bowl of rainbow-colored treats.

You were in your own head, your thoughts swirling in a tight coil threatening to snap. This shift had been enough to break a seasoned kitchen hand, and you had endured it all with a silent professionalism. Just when you were about to begin the next wave of remaining dishes, you turned and met your eyes with a plate of rainbow and sunshine.

“Hands, chef. You need to eat something,” Sanji softly spoke, his usual smirk and cocky attitude fleeing his face. The replacement of his usual demeanor was something you hadn't experienced with him. His eyes were rounded, his lips softly pouring, his head was lowered and seeking out your gaze with his own, and his empathy was worn with each subtlety.

All in one fluid motion, your head hung low and your glove-covered hands shrouded your eyes from his gaze. At the same motion, Sanji placed the bowl down beside you and hastily drew you into an encumbering embrace. It had finally been too much for you, and this was the first breakdown you had ever had regarding a shift. Heavy sobs were muffled by your rubber-covered palms while Sanji cradled you in his arms.

“Hold onto me, love,” Sanji softly whispered into your ear. You immediately unburied your face within your palms and nuzzled into the blonde man’s neck, arms wrapping beneath his shoulders and clinging to him like a rope offered from a cliff’s edge. “There you go. Good job. Just hold on, okay?”

“S-Sanji?” you attempted to whimper out, only being met with a soft shush and a tighter hold on your form. He rose one arm up to remove your dark chef’s cap from your head and carded his hands over your scalp in a soft brush.

“You've been pushing too many doubles, and saying ‘yes’ a whole lot lately,” he gently soothed you, “And while I love this place as much as you and the old man, I know my limits.” He gently lifted his head to gaze down to where your head was nestled in his collar, “You just hit yours, didn't you?”

“First time since I started,” you whispered into his shirt, “I didn't think I had one ‘til now, Ji.” Your admission alongside his arms holding you firmly dried up your tears after the heavy release.

“Course you do. We all do,” his soft baritone gently coaxed you. You slowly raised your eyes to meet his. His smile was like sunshine after a storm, warmth following a heavy winter, hope where hopelessness was found mere minutes prior, and a sanctuary found after a season of war.

When he looked at you, you felt like the most important person in the world. Time stood still in that moment, eyes darting between one another's and gently focussing briefly on the other’s lips. The close proximity you found yourself in was not unfamiliar to you, but this emotion swelling was far greater than you had anticipated. Sanji made to lean towards you, halting mid-way and second guessing himself from giving you the kiss he truly wanted. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours in a gentle seal of friendship.

Noses flush with one another’s, you both closed your eyes and dwelled in the silence for a moment. Nothing else was heard: no yells in the kitchen, no music from the dining room, no yells from your coworkers, and no demands from the patrons in the hall. All that was heard was the small thump of your heartbeat in your ears, and your shared breaths gently soothing one another in unison.

“I made you dango,” Sanji uttered softly, making no move to part from you.

“Thank you, Ji,” you expressed your gratitude just as softly.

“And while you eat, I'll finish up on the dishes,” he scrunched his nose playfully, moving away from your head and slowly releasing you from his embrace, “Then we can go and have a knock off. I'll have one of the bar staff take your shift tomorrow- And before you interrupt-!”

Sanji knew you all too well, halting your interjection before you had an opportunity to speak it out with a harsh expression.

“-I know it's a 'double split'. That's a four person job, and I know exactly the four people to do it,” he finally withdrew his arms from your shoulders and soothed your upper arms with a firm caress. “Now, hand over those gloves. I made a right mess cooking you your sweets, and I'm going to see to it that it's spotless while you eat.”

You slowly removed your arms from his body, halting them briefly on his hips while you bowed your head in gratitude.

“Oui, chef,” you huffed out in a bid to add humor to the scenario. Releasing him from your grasp, you began to remove your rubber gloves and hang them over the steel railing beside the sink.

Sanji slid his hands from your shoulders, his right hand moving to gently tap your chin up with his index finger. Following his motions, you met your eyes with his once more, offering him a small smile after the exhaustion of emotional release.

“‘Oui Chef’?” he gently teased you, his eyes playfully narrowing in his jest, “Hush, you. Now go eat your dango and tell me what you like about it. We got sweet red bean, white chocolate hazelnut, and citrus-melon mouse in the centers.”

Your eyes bloomed with a wave of gratitude, Sanji’s understanding washing from his aura and consuming you within his single glance. The only thing to break your joint hypnosis with the scent of the sweetness atop the bench, you bobbed your head a final time to your coworker and dearest friend.

You moved to sit by the sink on a wooden stool, plonking down and resting your worn feet with the plate sat in your lap. Head slumping on the steel bench, you close your eyes and raise one of the squishy spheres to your lips.

Placing the entire blob into your mouth, the center burst on impact of the clamp of your teeth. The flavors erupted over your palate, your emotions once again being forced to the surface at his thoughtfulness. Each tartness was compensated by the sweetness it needed, the sours holding a balance of soft umami to prolong the dance over your tongue.

Watching from the corner of his eye while elbows deep in the sink, Sanji smiled at the encounter, truly pleased that he could offer you that sense of comfort after a grueling few weeks. Each bite you took of his mastery had his heart swell. Knowing he could do this for you, take a piece of that burden away from you and give you some joy to focus on: that was all he ever craved in return from you.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 5: Let Me Take You There✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has been a work in progress for 2 months, but it is finally here! Moodboard made by @mrsmando 🩵 I have been working on so many things lately, but I’m so happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy 🥰 No beta for this one, but thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for letting me share snippets with you and scream about these two 🩷

Chapter Summary: After your parents cancel your weekend trip to Galveston at the last minute, Joel offers to take you instead.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 10.5k

Chapter Tags: Joel takes reader to Galveston, road trip, oral receiving (both male and female), unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, reader and Joel being in love, bondage, vibrator use, lots of fluff and smut, switching POVs, no use y/n

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  It’s Tuesday evening, a few days after your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Mexican food. You’re not alone with your parents; your dad invited Joel over to watch some college game with him. He sits next to you, leg digging into yours as you let yours mold into his. His leg is strong, firm, holding you together as you let it rest against yours. You want to be in his arms, let him hold you tight while you drown in his lips, in his taste, but you can’t. Not here, not right now. 

   You take another bite out of your chicken enchilada and pop another chip drowned in queso in your mouth, letting the juicy flavors run down your throat as it hits just the right spot. 

   “Hey, sweetie, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You know the Galveston trip this upcoming weekend?” your dad asks, finishing off a bite of his cheesy quesadilla as he sips from his tall water glass. 

   “Yeah, what about it?” you ask through another bite of enchilada. 

   “We’re gonna have to cancel the trip,” he says sadly, taking another bite out of his dripping quesadilla like he has no care in the world for the words that just came out of his mouth. 

   “What?” you ask, shocked. You drop your fork and it goes tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud clunk against the hardwood. Joel doesn’t hesitate and reaches his long arm down, picking up the ruined fork and setting it on the table next to him. 

   “I’m sorry, hun. Your aunt May and Charlie are making a surprise visit down, and they’re gonna come stay with us for the weekend. We wanted to tell you Thursday, but we didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” she says with apologies all over her uneasy tone. 

   “Why couldn’t you just tell them we already had plans? You’ve never canceled this trip before!” The words come out stronger than you want them to, hurt written all over your angry voice. They knew this weekend was important to you. They knew. 

   Joel places a hand discreetly on your thigh to help soothe you, but you barely register his gentle touch with how mad you are. 

   “We tried, hun, but the plans just fell through. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to go. Maybe next year…”

   You interrupt your mom. “Maybe next year?” you ask quietly with your lip quivering around your words. This trip was important to you. It was always something you looked forward to, but now it was ruined. You feel the backs of your eyes burn with hot tears, but you won’t let them see. They don’t deserve to see you crumble. You’ll just go sulk in your room.

   Joel sees how upset you’re getting, sees the way you’re trying to keep it together at the table. He digs his thick fingers into the flesh of your knee and knits his brows together as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You feel his concern through the connected skin. As much as you want to place your hand over his, you just need a few minutes alone. 

   “If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite,” you say as you push back your chair and feel Joel’s warm fingers drop from your skin. 

   As you leave the room and make your way up the towering steps, you hear your dad say something under his breath. “She just needs to cool off. She’ll be fine.”

   For some reason those words just make you more frustrated as you tread up the stairs, letting a hot tear collapse down your cheek as your vision begins to blur. Stupid trip, stupid aunt, stupid everything. You can kiss goodbye to any chance of your ocean weekend getaway because it isn’t happening. 

   You slam the door closed and flop onto your bed, curling your knees into your chest as you let the tears fall. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re too angry, too sad, too hurt. It might not be a big deal to them, but it is to you. So you burn with the heat inside your body and let it swallow you whole. 

   Joel takes a stiff drink of his iced tea and looks over at George. “You didn’t tell me you were canceling the trip,” he says slowly, trying not to show the concern in his voice as he worries about you wallowing alone in your room. 

   “It just came up. May isn’t usually the type to just drop in, so we thought we’d better stay home and let them come on down. I feel bad, but sometimes things come up, ya know?” George says through a bite of a crunchy tortilla chip, not seeming all that concerned about his daughter. 

   “That’s too bad. She seemed really excited. I think you crushed her,” Joel says as calmly as he can without getting all worked up himself. The thing was, he hated seeing you upset, would never dream of ever making you feel that way. And now he felt obligated to make you feel better. He had to because you’re his girl, and he always takes care of his girl. 

   “We are really sorry. We just hope she’ll forgive us,” Claire says with a sigh huffed in between bites of her dinner. 

   “Yeah. Joel, the game’s back on, you ready to go finish it?” George asks as he gets up and starts heading toward the living room. 

   “Oh, yeah. Just go ahead and turn it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Gonna head up to the bathroom first,” Joel says as he pushes back his chair and heads toward the stairs. 

   “Alright, don’t take too long,” George calls as he disappears into the dark living room. Joel prowls up the stairs quietly and heads toward your room. 

   

You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leave traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess. 

   Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices. 

   “Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you. 

   “Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet. 

   “That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane. 

   “I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge. 

   “Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all. 

   “Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down. 

   He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.

   “Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Attagirl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.

   “Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state. 

   “I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair. 

   “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out. 

   “Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly. 

   “Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again. 

   “What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch. 

   “Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled. 

   “What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead. 

   You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning. 

   “Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”

   Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. 

   “What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.” 

   “You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin. 

   “I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek. 

   He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?

   “Joel…”

   “Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes. 

   You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs. 

   “Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his. 

   “You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly. 

   “I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face. 

   You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.

   “You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him. 

   You lift your chin up and slowly plant your lips on his, letting the moment move slow, delicately, passionately. You sink into his weight and let him devour your lips, your tongue, your everything. 

   Joel Miller was the definition of everything, and you’d never ever let him go. 

   The cool breeze of November blows in a rush through your long locks of hair as you lean your head out the window, the air crisp and smelling of pine trees as you rest your elbows on the edge of the door and enjoy the taste of freedom. The radio hums low through the speakers as you feel Joel’s eyes on your back, feeling his warm smile on your skin as you close your eyes and take in this beautiful moment. 

   The drive to Galveston is relaxing, the sun kissing your skin as you bathe in warm sunlight. Joel taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel along to an AC/DC song that plays quietly throughout the truck. You take a moment to turn toward him, leaning your head on the back of the seat as you admire the beautiful man that sits before you. Tousled curls with grey threaded through his thick locks, a blue flannel that tugs at his muscular biceps, a glowing smile that reflects off the backs of your eyes as you soak him up, painting a pretty picture in your mind that you’ll surely take to your grave. 

   Joel catches you staring and reaches an arm out as he snatches your fingers and pulls your hand up to his plush lips. He grazes his lips against the back of your knuckles and laces his fingers through yours as he pulls your hand into his lap, holding tight as he drives along the vacant highway. 

   You blink twice and smile as you watch him drive, your hand on top of his thigh as he looks over and sees you in a lovesick daze. “What are you smilin’ ‘bout, hmm?” he asks as he smirks your way, arching an eyebrow as he drives along.

   “Oh, no reason. Just can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Galveston.”

   He squeezes your hand gently and looks over at you as the crow’s feet crinkle around his warm eyes. “Well, believe it, baby. Gotta keep my girl happy. And trust me, I wouldn’t wanna spend the weekend doin’ anythin’ else.”

   You scoot over to his side, unfastening your seatbelt as you nuzzle up into the side of his neck, catching the edge of his greying scruff. He tsks at you as he eyes you with your seatbelt off. “Seatbelt on, baby. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

   You huff out a response, batting your long eyelashes up at him. “I just wanted to be next to you. Being in the passenger seat was too far away,” you pout.

   He rolls his eyes and sighs, putting a strong arm around you as he hugs you into his side. “You’re a handful, you know that?” You giggle out and he just shakes his head. “Guess you can stay right here, can’t say no to my girl.”

   You beam up at him, reaching up to leave a sweet kiss against his tanned cheek while you wrap your arm around his hip and nuzzle back into the warm, woodsy scent of his flannel. You still can’t believe you’re going to the beach with your boyfriend, your dad’s best friend, and you can’t even fathom how he fell in love with you in the first place, but you’re so glad he did because you think he’s the love of your life. 

   Joel stops on the way to Galveston at Buc-ee’s, and the both of you jump out and grab all your favorite snacks for the long ride. The two of you share a bbq sandwich, grab fountain drinks, a bag of Doritos, beef jerky, and numerous bags of candy. When you’re back in the truck and driving down the long highway, you’re back against Joel’s side and leaning your head on his shoulder while you slowly chew on a piece of salted beef jerky. 

   He leans down and bites off a piece of it which makes your head fall back and laughter flow out the cracked window. Who knew that a simple road trip with your dad’s best friend would be the most exciting thing to happen this year? You never saw it coming, but neither did he. He just made you that happy. You’d be content just sitting by his side, reading a book while he watched a baseball game on tv. It was simple really, you were just that in love with Joel. 

   He takes another bite and hugs you tight against his side while his fingers slowly trail up and down your outer arm, making tingles flow down your spine. “So, what’d you tell your parents? Reckon your mother gave you a mouthful for leavin’ on the weekend you have family comin’ into town,” Joel says as he keeps one hand on the leather steering wheel, his eyes vigilant on the straight road ahead. 

   You sigh, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. “Told them I was having a girl’s trip this weekend in Dallas. My mom was pissed, but she’ll get over it.”

   He nods his head, tongue sliding over his bottom teeth as he eyes you from the corner of his vision. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick. Besides, how can she stay mad at a pretty face like yours, hmm?” He cups your chin as his calloused fingers slide against your smooth skin, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on your cheek. 

   You smile up at him, your cheeks warming from the golden sun and his soft touch. He really is the sweetest guy you know. “Thanks, Joel. You always know how to cheer me up.”

   “Always here for ya, baby.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips while he lays gentle kisses across your dainty knuckles. 

   When he releases your hand to focus on driving again, you pick out a sucker wrapped in pink paper and slowly unfold the sweet treat. You pop it into your mouth slowly and savor the cherry flavor on your tongue. Joel watches you lick at the sucker, your tongue sliding along the see through candy, eyes growing dark when he watches you pop it out of your mouth with drool sticking to the top. 

   He shifts in his seat, eyebrows furrowing together as he smirks your way, a devilish grin spreading across his crooked smile. “That good, huh?” he asks with hooded eyes.

   You smile his way, taking your tongue along the smooth edge as you slowly lick at the cherry flavored sucker. “Sooo good,” you hum as you take it further into your mouth, as far as you can without choking yourself. 

   His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he drives along, fighting himself from running off the road. “Better stop that now,” he warns, his eyes flickering with dark flecks of temptation as he gazes at you again with little control.

   “Stop what?” you ask innocently, giving the sucker another lick as you stare directly into his smoldering eyes. 

   “Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me. You tryin’ to kill me?” he murmurs as you eye the hardening cock against his jeans. Oh yeah, you were going to have fun with this. 

   “Not trying to kill you, handsome. Just having some fun,” you tease. 

   He sighs, raking a hand slowly down his grey threaded scruff. “You’re trouble, sweetheart. A little tease is what you are.”

   “Oh, I know,” you giggle. 

   You lean over and lick your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and a hint of mahogany cologne. You taste him. 

   “Christ,” Joel groans as he grips the steering wheel even harder. “You’re gonna make me pull this truck over if you’re not careful, I mean it,” he warns, his voice thick and gravelly against the pinch of temptation. 

   “You’re not gonna pull over. You’re gonna keep driving with your eyes on the road while I do this.” You palm him through his jeans, feeling just how hard he is as he groans through his gnashed teeth. 

   “Now, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on there.” He tries to pry your hand off, but you don’t move an inch. 

   “Joel, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Please, let me make you feel good. Rather suck on your cock than this lollipop.” You give another innocent lick to the pink sucker and bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him the prettiest smile you can muster up. 

   He ticks his jaw, eyebrows molding together while he drags a huff out. “Alright, alright. Jus’ don’t go wild. I need to concentrate on the road.”

   “Noted,” you wink, watching him grit his teeth together as he watches you slowly unzip his denim jeans, pulling his boxers down while his hard cock springs up and hits his soft tummy. 

   You revel at how thick and long he is, wrapping a hand around him to slowly slide up and down his shaft, spreading the leaking precum over his entirety. He groans at your slow motions, eyes blowing out as he watches you sink down to his lap while your mouth closes over him.

   “Fuckkk,” he groans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, hovering down to where his tip is kissing the back of your throat, making you choke and drool all over his weeping cock. He shifts beneath you, hands cemented to the steering wheel as he fights to keep his eyes on the road instead of at your pretty mouth around his thick length. 

   You gather your spit and fist him in your hand, moaning while you hear the wet, sticky noises of your fingers working him nice and good up and down repeatedly. You feel your own slick gathering in your panties, an ache you’re desperate to alleviate. You slide your left hand under the lace, circling your throbbing clit while you moan his name, still working him up and down with your hand. 

   “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he growls, watching you get yourself off with your own fingers. “If I wasn’t in the middle of the highway, I’d pull this truck over and have you spread across my lap while I finished the job.”

   “Yeah?” you whine, fingers curling up inside yourself while your thumb presses down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. 

   “Oh yeah, sweetheart. Better believe I’m takin’ care of you later. You brought what I asked, right?”

   “Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself about to spill inside your denim shorts. 

   “Attagirl. Gonna get you all nice and wet with my fingers, my tongue. Gonna tie you to the bedpost and give you what you deserve. Gonna make my girl come so hard that we’ll need new sheets before the night is through,” he growls with gritted teeth. 

   “Joel,” you moan, feeling a white hot sensation flow through your body before your panties are ruined with your release, continuing to stroke him while you come down from the blissful high of an orgasm. 

   “That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You’re absolutely drenched from his dirty words.

   You take a minute to come back to the present while your eyes glaze over, feeling his pulsing cock beneath your fingers while you work him up and down slowly. You lean over and glide the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock where a large vein guides you forward. He groans, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel while you work your magic. 

   Suddenly, Joel stills beneath you, hearing his phone buzz deep in his pocket. He curses under his breath and reaches one hand in, grabbing up his vibrating phone as his eyes blow wide. 

   “It’s your father,” he mutters, knitting his eyebrows together as he answers the phone. “Hey, George. What’s up?” he says casually, motioning for you to stop while he talks on the phone. 

   You still your hand, keeping it wrapped firmly around the base, brushing the end of your nose through his coarse, wiry hairs, breathing him deep as you get intoxicated off his manly musk.

   “Beers at your house tonight? Sorry, bud. I’m actually out of town this weekend.” 

   You hear your dad on the other end sighing, can almost see him rolling his eyes. You know he misses his best friend, but right now he’s a bit tied up with you. 

   “M’sorry. It was a bit last minute, but I’m goin’ to the lake with Sarah.”

   You listen to Joel and your dad carry on the conversation, one hand on the steering wheel tight while he balances the phone on his shoulder. You know he’s trying not to break while he’s on the phone, but you just can’t help yourself. 

   You lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue in slow circles around his swollen red tip as he hisses through his teeth. He glares at you, but you just smile sweetly up at him as you dive back in. 

   You take him deep in your mouth, feeling the salty precum slide down your throat as you choke on him again and again. He grabs the back of your hair, letting you work him over, swallowing your own moans with his thick length. 

   You take him deeper, choking on him while you make the most obscene gagging noises around his cock. “Ahh fuck,” he growls through his teeth as he looks down with blown out black eyes. “Oh, sorry. Jus’ lifted somethin’ a little too heavy for me. Guess I couldn’t quite handle it,” he mutters while his fingers grab your hair harder. 

   He pushes you down further, rutting his hips up while you choke again and again on his cock, letting him deepthroat you as your drool and spit coat him in wetness. 

   “Yeah, that’s right. Mhm, feels fuckin’ great at the lake. Not too cold, not too hot, jus’ right,” he grits through his teeth, fisting your locks in his hand as he drags your mouth up and down him, mouth fucking him intensely. You’re nearly drowning in him.

   “Mhm. Tuesday. I’m gonna come. On Tuesday, right,” he pants out, teeth gritted together as he pushes your head down hard and blows his load inside your hollowed out cheeks. 

   You swallow him down, barely able to take all the hot ropes of cum as some leaks out of your mouth. He curses under his breath and hits the back of his head on the headrest, broad chest heaving while you clean him up and lap up all the excess cum and drool on his messy cock. When you’re done cleaning him and his cock is softening, you fold it back into his boxers and pull his jeans back up, zipping them up for Joel.

   He takes deep breaths, listening to the last few words your dad tells him on the phone. He seems uninterested in whatever your dad has to say, his eyes only watching you now. They’re glazed over, dark flecks shining in the sunlight as he looks at you with love in his eyes. It makes your heartbeat pick up and kick against your chest. 

   “Alright, George. Sounds good. Have a good weekend. See ya Tuesday.” He clicks the phone off and shoves it in his pocket while his hand trails back over to you. His eyes find yours, and they look so beautiful in the rays of sunshine that glow through the window. 

   “You messy, messy girl. Goin’ down on me when I’m tryin’ to drive, when I’m on the phone with your father. You’re such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he settles a large palm on the top of your head, gently running his fingers softly through your long locks. 

   “Mhm. I’ve always wanted to do that for you. And now I can say I have,” you giggle. 

   “Christ. How’d I get so lucky with you, hmm?” he smiles, watching you turn on your side and laying your head in his lap while one of your arms wraps around his thigh. 

   “The question is how’d I get so lucky with you? I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you all to myself. Almost doesn’t seem real, you know?”

   You hear him hum while his thick fingers curl against your shoulder. “I know what ya mean, sweetheart. It’s real, though. You’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me, pretty girl.”

   “Fine with me, cowboy,” you smile.

   He chuckles out, the weight of his laughter echoing through your heart. “I love you, sweetheart.”

   “And I love you, Joel Miller.”

   He smiles down at you as you situate yourself in his lap, closing your eyes to take a nap. Maybe when you wake up you’ll see the surf and sand of Galveston before your eyes. 

   After you check into the lavish hotel and place your bags in your suite, you and Joel both throw on your swimsuits and grab some beach towels. You settle into a dark teal bikini, and Joel almost matches you with light blue swim trunks. He looks so good, so broad with his tanned chest almost glistening in the sun, his large muscles flexing every time he moves. He looks like a masterpiece. 

   Just when you almost get lost in your fantasies in your mind, Joel pulls you right back out. “I’ll race ya to the beach,” he smirks as he pulls open the back sliding door that leads to a winding staircase down to the beach.

   “Bet I can beat you,” you giggle as you push him in the shoulder and race past him, barreling down the sturdy steps as you hear him laughing uncontrollably behind you. 

   “Cheater,” he laughs with a gravelly tone, “pushed right past me.”

   You turn your face his way and stick your tongue out playfully. “Come catch me, slow poke,” you giggle. That just makes him sprint faster toward you.

   You take off in the warm sand, your heart beating wildly inside your chest as you run toward the blue crashing waves of the ocean. You turn your head back around quickly and scream when you see him right on your heels.

   “C’mere, pretty girl,” he chuckles. One more step and he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder while you squeak and try to escape. 

   “Joel, put me down!” you laugh, using every bit of strength in you to break free of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s got you in a tight embrace. 

   “Ain’t puttin’ you down jus’ yet, baby. Nah, gonna jus’ take ya for a little dip in the water.”

   “Joel Miller, put me down this instant!” you squeak as he squeezes the backs of your thighs, taking off into the thick sand. 

   “Nah, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna do that.” 

   You hear the crash of waves before you see them, and then he’s throwing you into the salty water while your head gets completely covered in the cold water. You make your way quickly up to the surface and rub the salt out of your eyes, yelling at Joel playfully while he laughs in the near distance. 

   Once you see him you start splashing him in the face with the cold water, watching his hair get completely soaked with his tousled curls slicked back with big droplets of salt water framing his face. “Now who’s winning!” you shout gleefully. 

   “Oh, so you wanna be like that? Okay, baby. Two can play at that game.” He starts splashing you right back while you turn your head and avoid the salt water getting in your eyes. 

   It’s a water fight in the best possible way, you and Joel going back and forth seeing who can make the biggest splash and who can get the most soaked. A fit of giggles leave your mouths while the sunshine warms your dripping shoulders. It goes on for minutes, the playful water fight until Joel comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist. 

   “C’mere,” he chuckles. He spins you around and pins you to his chest while his lips find yours hungrily. You melt into the kiss, fingers twisting through his dripping curls, him slotting his tongue into your mouth as you taste the salty flavor of the ocean and him. 

   You squeak when he picks you up, legs wrapping around his hips as one of his hands locks you to him. You rest your forehead on his, your lips curved into a warm smile as you take in the salt water that covers his tanned skin. “Thanks for taking me here, Joel,” you whisper against his mouth. 

   “Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.” 

   You wrap your arms around his neck and let him hold you up in the water, keeping your body flush to his chest. You both turn your attention to the horizon, watching the gentle blue waves lap against the water, focusing on the afternoon glow of the sun, the graceful seagulls flying overhead, your own beating heart mixing with Joel’s. 

   It’s moments like this that you can never take for granted. Being at the beach with your lover, not having to sneak around under the nose of your reluctant father, being at one of your favorite places in Texas. It’s all surreal, almost fictional. You’re one hell of a lucky girl, and you know that. God, you know that. 

   You rest your head on Joel’s shoulder and feel him kiss the top of your head slowly, his lips grazing against your drenched hair. “This is so peaceful, Joel,” you breathe, sighing into the scruff of his jaw. 

   “Mhm, it sure is. Haven’t been down here in a while. You know Sarah was jealous, right?”

   You giggle and look up at him, catching the sunlight strike his dazzling honey colored eyes. “You told her you were coming here?”

   “Yeah. Guess it was a mistake ‘cause she threw a fit, but she got over it. Told her I wanted a little alone time with my girl.”

   You smile and nod in understanding. “Glad she took it well.”

   “Me too. She kept askin’ when we were gonna tell your folks about us,” he sighs, one hand raking down the curve of his jaw, thick fingers catching water droplets from his greying beard. 

   You huff and sink back into his chest. “I don’t even want to think about that. I mean eventually we’ll have to, but not today. Not this month, or year. Maybe next year,” you sigh while your nails scratch against the back of his tousled curls. 

   “Whenever you want, baby. M’not in a rush either. Whenever you feel like the right time is, we’ll tell ‘em together. I’ll be right there by your side, no matter what happens. M’not goin’ anywhere, even if your father hates me after. I’m yours. Always.” He brushes his lips over your cheekbone, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower regions. The man always knew how to get you. 

   You stay in the cool, salty water just a little longer, going back and forth from floating on your back to being in Joel’s arms. No one else is in the water or on the beach, it’s just you and Joel. Your own island paradise for the weekend. 

   You bathe in the beauty of it all. The salty air breezing across your hair, sun kissed skin soaking in every bit of ray of sunshine the sky graces you, Joel standing behind you with his lips brushing against your collarbone, his deep hums sending sparks of lightning through your core. You never want to leave this place, never want to leave him. You’ll just stay in the moment for as long as you can.  

   “Joel?”

   “Hmm?” He hums as he kisses your neck sweetly, his other hand dancing along the bikini line as his thick fingers play with the teal material by your hip bone. 

   “Promise me this isn’t just a dream and that I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow with you gone.”

   He chuckles behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers in his deep, gruff voice you so love. “S’not a dream, baby. It’s real, I’m real. And I can promise you I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

   You sink your weight into his broad chest, his finger cupping your chin with his calloused fingers. He tips your head backwards and meets your lips with his, letting him soak you in all his sunshine and salty presence while you float off on a cloud into paradise. This is heaven, Joel is heaven. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him. 

   After half an hour of basking in the beautiful ocean, you decide to get out and lay in the sand for a while. You drag your feet through the damp sand, body relaxed and tired from the ocean water. You spot your towels laid out together, yours pink and Joel’s dark blue. But before you can reach them you feel Joel catch your hips while he envelops you in his warm hold, dragging you down to the sand as his weight topples over you. He pins your wrists to the warm sand while he holds himself over you. 

   “Got you,” he chuckles, hovering over you with his tousled curls dripping salt water all over your chest. 

   “Joel!” you laugh as you erupt into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t realize we were still playing.” 

   “Mmm, found the perfect opportunity to take you down again. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles. 

   “Silly old man,” you tease.

   “Old man, huh? Ain’t old enough to do this,” he laughs, sinking his body against yours while his lips crash into you. 

   You melt into his lips, your fingers running through his tousled curls that smell of salty water and mahogany, the two mixing together to form a scent you breathe into your lungs and get lost in. His tongue dances with yours, his rough hands gliding against the curve of your hips as he slithers his way between your legs. 

   You stay like that for minutes just breathing each other in, getting lost in the hungry kisses, the panting breaths that sound in tune with the lapping waves against the shoreline. It all feels like a dream, but this is real, and it’s the most perfect day with your ridiculously hot boyfriend. 

   He nips at your bottom lip, slowly releasing his mouth as he hovers back over you. When you open your eyes, you gasp. The way the warm sun beams down over him makes him look angelic, a bright light surrounding him as you look into those beautiful honey eyes, the dark flecks reflecting off your own. God, he looks so beautiful, so exquisite. You could stare at him every second of every day if you got the chance to. 

   Your fingers brush over his grey threaded beard, lips parting in awe as you smile up at him. His lips curve into a warm smile that makes your toes curl, and his eyes crinkle down at you while one of his hands grazes against your jawline. 

   “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You know that?” he asks, affection spilling off his Southern drawl while he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. 

   “You tell me all the time, handsome,” you smile, eliciting a groan from his mouth as you drag your fingers against the scruff of the back of his neck. 

   “You deserve to be told every single second of every day, sweetheart. And I’ll do that, over and over again. Even if you get tired of it, I’ll keep at it. ‘Cause you deserve the world, so let me give it to you.”

   Your mouth drops open, your heart in your throat. You’re so stunned that you can barely say anything but run your fingers through his hair, a wide smile splayed over your face as you gaze into the eyes of the love of your life. 

   “Joel Miller, never knew you were such a romantic at heart,” you smile, lazing into those crystal clear dark eyes. 

   “Always been a romantic, baby. Guess I jus’ didn’t have anyone to show it to. But now, there’s you. So let me shower you in it. Got many years to make up for it,” he chuckles. 

   You drag his face down to yours, pressing your lips flush against his until you sink back into him, reveling in his touch, his kiss, his everything while the sun slowly slips against your ocean kissed skin. You swallow his essence, inviting him in while his tongue swirls feverishly around yours. It’s like you’re in the middle of a cute little romance movie, but this is your reality. This is real.

   He drags one of your bikini straps down, slipping his fingers underneath the silky teal top, grazing against the underside of your breast. “Joel, stop,” you groan. “This isn’t a nude beach,” you laugh. 

   “There ain’t nobody around, darlin’. Jus’ let me do one thing, yeah?” he asks while you silently nod your head in approval. 

   He drags one of your cups free, burying his face in your chest as he takes the flat of his tongue and gently swirls around your pebbled breast. You groan into the shell of his ear while his other hand lightly feathers against the folds of your already soaked center. 

   “Joel,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his salt covered neck as he nips up your collarbone. He slips a hand beneath your bikini bottoms and starts to slowly circle your puffy clit, eliciting a moan that falls like a melody against the curve of his ear. 

   “Yeah? That feel good, darlin’?” he asks, feeling just how drenched you are beneath your bikini. He presses harder against your aching bud, pulling you dangerously close to spilling over him as you feel a cold wave hit the backs of your feet.  

   “Joel, fuck - you’re gonna make me…”

   “Make you come? Go on, gorgeous. Spill for me. Know you want to,” he purrs, his calloused fingers swirling swiftly around your bundle of nerves until you dig your fingers into the scruff of his neck and moan his name intensely while he elicits a long, amazing orgasm from you. Your body jolts at the aftershocks, coming down from your high as cum spills all over your teal bikini. 

   “Attagirl,” he praises, working you through your orgasm, then slipping his fingers inside his mouth to clean them off properly. He groans at the taste of you, savoring the flavor against his tongue. 

   He leans back and looks at you, glistening tanned skin and chocolate coated eyes you want to melt in. He’s absolutely stunning. “Joel Miller getting me off on the beach?” you smirk as you raise an eyebrow at him.

   “Mhm, couldn’t wait to get back to the room. Had to get a taste and repay you for the favor you did for me in the truck.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh and roll him over into the sand. You climb on top of his chest and drape your arms over his broad shoulders while he brings his large hands up to rub your back softly. 

   “You’re the best, Miller. Best I ever had,” you smile as you rest your chin on his tanned chest. 

   “Mmm, think you’re the best, sweetheart. Never met a girl that got me quite like you do. You’re somethin’ else.”

   He takes one of his fingertips and traces a heart in the sand, writing out your initials and drawing an arrow through the heart with a lovesick look in those pools of honey. You gawk at him, almost tearing up when you see how mesmerized he looks hovering over your initial, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him.

   “There. Now it’s our beach. Jus’ yours and mine, baby. It’s written in the sand,” he lulls warmly.

   You smile down at him, placing your hand against the soft scruff of his jaw and turn his face toward yours. You part your lips, almost speechless as words start to fail you. Joel really was a romantic after all. Your perfect, romantic, endearing boyfriend.

   “Joel Miller. You amaze me every single day. And God, I’m just so in love with you,” you muse.

   “Sweetheart, it’s me that’s so in love with you. Never gonna stop. It’s written in the sand, in the ocean, in the stars even. You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he whispers, staring up at you with the most endearing brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Everything about this moment is magical.

     You gaze into the warmth of his honey eyes and play with his tousled curls, running your fingers through the soft locks as you get lost in his gaze. You stay like that another hour, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean, soaking up the warm sun, getting hopelessly lost in his mahogany and salt water scent. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, just like he is with you. 

   After a while, Joel helps you up off the sand and leads you across the shoreline. He takes your hand in his and guides you through the lapping water, taking in the salty breeze of the sea and the picturesque vision of you and him walking along the coast. It’s so romantic, so very special, and it feels so right. His strong hand in yours, him smiling down at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and his smile that sends you over the edge every single time. It’s all just so breathtaking. 

   Maybe this was fate after all, maybe you were meant to be on this beach with Joel the whole time. It sure seems like it now. You realize why it never worked with anyone else. It’s because Joel Miller was always the one. You just didn’t know it then, but you do now. He’s the one for you. Your forever. 

   After you and Joel have showered and thrown on white silky robes, you sit on the balcony and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and amber colors. You lean into Joel on the reclining chair, letting his fingertips trace up and down your arms slowly while his lips brush against the shell of your ear. 

   “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, watching the waves slowly lap against the sand while he murmurs in your ear.

   “Mhm, gorgeous.” He grazes his lips against your cheek and whispers sweet words into your ear. “You wanna go back inside? Let me make love to my girl,” he whispers as he trails another kiss over your cheek. 

   You spin around and smile down at him. “Okay, handsome. What’d you have in mind?” you giggle. 

   He smirks up at you and chuckles. “You remember when we were watchin’ Scream on Halloween night, and I asked about the whole handcuff thing?”

   You raise your eyebrows in question and nod. “Yeah, what about it?”

   “Well, don’t exactly have the handcuffs, but that black silk ribbon I asked you to bring? Gonna use that to tie you to the headboard. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. That what you want?” he asks with a long Southern drawl, eyes darkening as he speaks to you in a deep voice. 

   You gulp and nod your head. “Okay, daredevil. Take me to bed then,” you whisper into the shell of his ear. 

   He wastes no time and hauls you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he makes his way through the sliding glass door, closing it with the heel of his foot. “On the bed for me, naked,” he instructs as you fully oblige. 

   The room is massive, marble countertops and fancy light fixtures filling the room. The room is dim, only a couple of lamps on as the luminescent dark blue walls cover the space. The king sized bed is pristine, white sheets with fluffy pillows covering the top of the bed. The headboard is made of light wood, and a small fireplace crackles underneath the 70 inch flat screen tv in the center of the room. 

   You slip off your robe, crawling onto the plush bed while Joel watches with wide eyes, grabbing a couple things from your pink suitcase that sits in the corner of the room. His eyes stay locked on yours, especially when you spread your legs wide and show him the sticky mess already building up over your warm core. 

   He licks his lips, dragging a hand slowly over his mouth while he feasts on your naked body. “Look at you, baby girl. Already so wet and ready for me. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ vision,” he purrs, leaning against the edge of the bed just mesmerized at the perfection that splays in front of him. 

   You smile, bedroom eyes slipping over his tanned form, and he knows exactly what that means. He crawls over you, pushing your legs further apart with his knees and catching your wrists above your head. “Stay still for me, sweetheart. Gonna tie you up now.”

   You stay still, letting him collect your wrists above your head, gently tying the black silk ribbon against the headboard. You almost moan, feeling his thigh brush against your clit as he sits back to assess his work. “You okay? Not too tight?” he asks with concerned brown eyes. 

   “Feels perfect, Joel,” you smile, giving him a mischievous smirk while your foot hikes his robe up his tanned thigh. “Gonna take that off, Miller?”

   He chuckles, untying the belt slowly and then ripping it off his body as it goes crashing to the floor. You gawk at him, watching his cock twitch before you, already hardening as he assesses your bare body before him. 

   “Look at my man. So handsome, tan, big, all mine,” you giggle. 

   “Mmm, all yours, gorgeous. Now breathe for me. Wanna try somethin’,” he murmurs with darkening eyes. 

   You see him spread your thighs more, trailing kisses up your inner thighs and brushing his nose through your folds, dragging it over your sensitive clit and ending in the soft curls above your mound. 

   He gives you a devilish grin and then licks a long, thick stripe up your core, sending a moan falling from your lips as he drinks in the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl,” he groans, licking the slick from his lips slowly. “Now, for the fun part. Think you’re gonna love this,” he smiles. 

   He reaches behind his back and grabs the vibrator that was sitting underneath your clothes in your suitcase. He turns the power on, starting it slow as the buzzing noise fills the width of the room. Before he brings it to your center, he hovers it just over your clit as he speaks. “Take a deep breath. Gonna start it slow.”

   Your breath falters when he places the end of the vibrator on your clit, pressing down and massaging slow circles across your bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, letting him revel in your long, drawn out moans.

   “Attagirl, feels good don’t it?” he chuckles, watching the way your lips part and eyes blow wide. 

   “Yeah, it feels - ohhhhh,” you moan, feeling him slip two digits into your dripping hole, working them nice and slow, curling up into the spongy wall that makes you lose control. 

   “That’s it, sweetheart. Let’s take it up a notch, shall we?” he smirks. 

   He switches the settings, powering the vibrator to a more intense level that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. He shifts his knee, pinning your thigh down so he can see the spasming movements of your ruined pussy. 

   His eyes expand into black pits, tongue licking against his bottom lip while he assesses the damage he does to your soaked core. He watches the way the slick runs down his knuckles, fingers fucking deep into your drenched pussy, obscene squelching noises and melodic moans filling the room. He’s never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.

   He presses down harder on your throbbing clit, the buzzing motion of the vibrator making you squirm beneath his calloused fingers. “Joel, I’m so close. I’m so - oh,” you writhe, hearing the wet noises of him fucking your pussy with his thick fingers faster and faster, feeling him coaxing you on each time his fingertips kiss that perfect spongy spot that makes you black out. 

   “That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises, pressing downward on the vibrator and opening a whole new sensation that makes you form your lips into a wide O, white hot heat sliding down the edge of your spine.

   “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, fusing your eyebrows together and choking on a moan. 

   “Come for me, beautiful. Make a mess on these fingers,” he coaxes. 

   One more brush of the vibrator and curl of his thick fingers and you’re gone. You moan his name, twisting your fingers into the silky ribbon as you feel the rush of bliss blow over you. You release for him, spilling all over his fingers, along with another wave of pleasure that overcomes you. You feel yourself squirt, watch yourself coat his broad chest, the scruff of his jaw with the slick that just keeps flowing. 

   “Oh, Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby. There she goes. Jus’ keeps on comin’. Fuckin’ drenchin’ me,” he purrs all mesmerized and hypnotic while he talks you through it. 

   “Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off while he collects slick against your glistening mound. He slides his fingers from your insides, popping his soaked digits into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you. 

   “Joel, that was incredible,” you pant, coming back to your body after the intense orgasm washes through you.

   “Yeah? Well, I ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart,” he teases, a crooked smile forming over his beautiful face. 

   “Not yet?” you ask, laughing.

   “Not yet,” he confirms with a glint in his blown out eyes. 

   Your eyes look down, staring at the large erection between his legs. His cock is thick, the head red and swollen while precum leaks down his shaft. You go wide-eyed, licking your lips as you gaze hungrily at him. 

   “Joel,” you whine.

   “What do ya need, baby girl? Use your words.”

   You strain against your bindings, panting desperately, trying to show him how badly you need him between your thighs. “Your cock. Need you inside, please,” you beg.

   “Don’t gotta beg for me, darlin’. It’s all yours, I’m all yours,” he smiles. 

   He brings your legs over his shoulders, crawling between your thighs as he stretches you wide, cock gliding against your folds, collecting slick on his angry tip. You groan at the feeling of him, the tingling sensation his cock gives as it slides against your wetness. 

   “You ready for me?” he asks, brushing over your clit once more as you stifle a moan.

   “Mhm,” you hum.

   “Okay, baby girl. Deep breath for me,” he instructs. 

   He pushes into you, stretching you wide as his thick cock fills you to the brim. You pant, writhing beneath him while he starts a slow rhythm of going back and forth, his grunts becoming savage like when he talks you through it. 

   “There ya go, sweetheart. Takin’ me so good, jus’ like you always do,” he grunts out, his large hands caging you against him. 

   You want so badly to be able to run your hands through his hair, want to scratch your nails down the tanned skin of his back, feel the sweat building on his sculpted skin. Being tied up is hot, and something about not being in control right at this moment is really turning you on, but you also want to just be able to really feel him. 

   He sees you struggling with your wrists, pulling against the black silk while you pant out his name through every brush of his cock against your tight walls. He stills his thrusts, giving you a concerned look as he takes you in. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too tight? Too much?” he asks with a soft voice.

   “I just… This is really hot, Joel. But I kind of just want my hands free so I can touch you,” you say with glossy eyes. 

   He chuckles, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart. Here, let me jus’ fix this real quick.” His arms go over your head, carefully untying your hands from the polished headboard. He throws the black silk ribbon on the nightstand and situates himself over you again, all while still being inside you. “Better?” he asks, a crooked smile draping over the curve of his mouth. 

   You throw your arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief as your fingers scratch up the tousled curls on the back of his neck. “Better,” you smile. 

   “Now, let me get back to makin’ love to my girl,” he says with eyes that smother over with darkening irises. 

   He ruts back into you, speeding up his thrusts as his lips come down to meet yours. You part your lips and let him slot in, drowning out your moans with the slide of his tongue as he licks feverishly inside your mouth. You twist your fingers through his sandy colored curls, eliciting a grunt from his lips as your nail beds dig across his scalp. 

   He moves his lips down to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone, sucking against the sensitive areas all while his large palms cup your breasts, pebbling your nipples with every stroke of his calloused thumbs. 

   “Oh, right there,” you whine, feeling his cock reach that certain spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

   “Yeah, feel good?” he purrs along the shell of your ear, licking his tongue along the edge of it. “How ‘bout this?” he says with a devilish grin, eyes blowing wide with dark black pits. 

   “Fuck,” you moan, feeling his thumb draw meticulous circles across your swollen clit while his cock kisses the back of your cervix, spreading wet, obscene noises around the glow of the room as his balls slap frantically against your sweaty skin. 

   You dig your nails into the back of his shoulder blades as Joel folds you like a pancake and ruts deep inside you, his cock drenched in your sticky slick. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine. You’re so close to spilling.

   “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock. Attagirl,” he praises as he sees your eyebrows thread together, your body quivering beneath him. 

   He slides his thumb in slow circles over your buzzing clit, cock hitting your spongy wall again and again and again until you can’t hold back any longer. You squeeze his thick cock, moaning his name as white hot heat takes control of your body. You feel yourself start to spill, covering Joel in your blissful orgasm that coats him in your slick.

   “Attagirl, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, talking you through your high as your body starts to come down from sweet release. 

   He pushes your legs further apart, cock working swiftly in and out of your core as he chases his own release. “Oh yeah, fuck me,” he growls, thrusting in and out faster and faster until he’s furrowing his eyebrows together and clenching his jaw, spilling hot ropes of cum inside you till he collapses at your side and pulls you flush to his chest. 

   You both pant out in exhaustion, sheets soaked from the sweat of skin on skin, bodies tangled together as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles warmly over at you. “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he praises, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as you take in the starry flecks of amber brown of his dreamy eyes.

   “Thanks for showing me something new. Never knew I could be so into bondage,” you tease, smirking his way with flirtatious eyes he can’t seems to look away from.

   “Mmm, we’ll jus’ have to explore those kinks together then, yeah?”

   You giggle while you run a hand through his messy curls, taking in this beautiful moment of you and Joel on a weekend getaway together. It feels so natural, so right being here with him. You guess it’s just always felt like this ever since starting this whole thing with him.

   After a few minutes of just staring at one another mesmerized, Joel traces his thumb across your bottom lip and smiles gently at you. “You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you when I met you?” he asks quietly.

   “What?” you laugh gently, placing your palm over the top of his hand.

   “Your eyes. Never saw such beautiful eyes before. And your smile. God, that gorgeous smile. Thought I was seein’ an angel the first time you looked at me.”

   Your breath gets caught in your throat, the outside waves being muted from the man that lies in front of you. “Joel… that’s so… wow,” you whisper breathlessly.

   “Think I was in love before we even started dating, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest with myself, I should’ve known all along. You’re exactly the woman I’ve been lookin’ for. You’re so beautiful and smart and kind. I’m jus’ so… fuck, I jus’ love you a lot.”

   Your mouth drops open, a gasp leaving your throat as you stare at him like a lovesick puppy. You’re almost too overwhelmed right now with tears licking the backs of your eyes. “Joel Miller, you sweet, sweet man. I never thought… I only dreamed that this could all be real. I never knew it’d turn into this. But I’m so crazy about you, and I love you so so much.”

   His eyes tear up, brown syrupy flecks glistening back at you in the starry moonlight. He looks so happy and so in love that your heart swells like a balloon in your chest. “Thank you again for taking me to Galveston. You’re the best, Miller,” you smile, fingers entwining with his. 

   “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’d take you here anytime. Jus’ say the words, I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I get to be with my girl, that’s enough for me,” he smiles.

   You pull him in for a long kiss, getting lost in the scent of the ocean breeze and the woodsy scent of his cologne. This may last forever, it may not, but you’re going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts. 

Tags: @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @vividispunk @mrslawrencealbarn @pedrossl4t @pedroswife69 @sarap-77 @casa-boiardi @princesatracionera @msjarvis

[thebisexualdogdad]

Dating Sanji and Zoro (Male!reader)

● oh the amount of arguments you have to break up between your boyfriends

● they love purposely doing things that will annoy the shit out of each other

● and you are stuck in the middle playing mediator

● “Sanj maybe you don't need to use Zoro's sword to cut those tomatoes”

● “Zoro please don't swap the labels on Sanji's spices… again”

● it's a real shit show when one of them grabs your bo staff to hit the other one over the head with it

● Zoro is a master swordsman, Sanji is skilled in black leg style fighting where you are a pro with a bo staff

● and you've learned to expertly fight alongside one another to become practically unbeatable

● Sanji is much more affectionate than Zoro

● he's all over you, hugging you and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and putting his hand in your back pocket while Zoro prefers to do those things in private

● though Sanji will purposely kiss Zoro in public just to fluster him which makes you laugh

● "wha- sanji I- I told you not to do that"

● "to late, already did it lover boy"

● and he will forever deny that he gets butterflies whenever he hears either of you refer to each other as your ‘boyfriends’

● but you better believe Zoro gets so soft when you or Sanji get hurt/sick

● you could just have a common cold and Zoro will not leave your side until you feel better

● Zoro's love language is acts of service

● so without telling you he will clean up the kitchen for Sanji or fix any dents in your staff

● Sanji “Hey do you know who organized all the food by what's closest to expiration?”

● or you “does anyone know how all the chips in my staff are gone?”

● Zoro just shrugs and pretends to not know despite staying up all night to do those kind of things

● and Sanji's love language is making sure his boys are always fed

● he's constantly asking you guys if you've eaten or if you're hungry

● “Sanj we ate dinner like an hour ago we're stuffed”

● “yes but I can still make you dessert”

● Sanji and Zoro are both switches

● but Zoro refuses to let Sanji top him

● because the one time Sanji did he hasn't let him forget it

● they will be in the middle of an argument and Sanji will say “you weren't so tough when I had you on your back begging for me”

● Zoro “Shut up Sanji!”

● you chuckle “well you are a beggar”

● when Zoro bottoms for you he becomes a moaning begging mess

● chanting your name as he gets closer to his release

● where bottom Sanji is a total brat who loves to push buttons to get punished

● when they top you they get so competitive of who can fuck you better

● “I'm the one who made Y/N cum last night”

● “yeah but I'm the one who made him cum twice this morning”

● and when they are both on their knees sucking you off it's a sight to see

● one will be taking your cock all the way to the back of their throat while the other is sucking on your balls

● Sanji loves having his nipples played with

● he's in heaven when one of you is eating his ass while the other is sucking and licking his nipples

● and Zoro loves having his hair pulled

● if you have him on his hands and knees fucking him from behind while you pull his hair he's putty in your hands

● you and Sanji regularly worship Zoro's muscles

● if you see Zoro flexing his biceps you two can't resist dragging him somewhere private

● his abs are always covered in hickies

● you love seeing his stomach uncontrollably flex while you're teasing his v lines

● you and Sanji making dumb jokes about hot guys like Shanks and Mihawk

● you “I could take them”

● Zoro “in a fight right?”

● Sanji “sure, that's what we are talking about”

[dirtysvthoughts]

tipsy nights 🌕

tags/warnings: boyfriend! chan, female! reader, alcohol, mentions of a finished dinner, lots of kissing, lots of touching and feeling each other up, reader praises chan, chan gets kinda shy, dry humping

word count: 1.9k

notes: thank you to @duhnova for helping me with the idea for this drabble! this has been a recurring thought in my mind - getting tipsy with chan, making out, and getting handsy 🥺 the dingo tipsy live is also one of my favorite chan looks ever (and the inspiration for this drabble), it’s so boyfriend coded 😩 anyways, enjoy besties!

chan stretches out his body, groaning out in satisfaction as you wash the dishes from your meal. “seriously babe, you’re such a great cook! that tteokbokki was one of the best i’ve ever had.”

you blush at chan’s words, a smile making its way on your lips. “thanks chan, i’m really glad you liked it!” you dry your hands with a towel as you join him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulders as your legs move into a mermaid position. chan puts his hand on your knee and begins rubbing your skin in a circular motion.

“you take such good care of me,” he admires, looking in your eyes, feeling as if he could get lost in them forever. “you’re always making sure i’m eating, making sure i’m well, i don’t deserve you..”

“i don’t deserve you, chan,” you emphasize, holding his hand. “the things you’ve done for me and the way you take care of me too? you’re the greatest boyfriend ever.”

you share a quick kiss, resting your head on chan’s shoulder when you separate. having a partner that not only understood you, but wanted to know more about you, flaws and all is one of the best feelings you’ve experienced.

after a few minutes of silence, you eye the bottles of soju and other alcohol on the table in front of you. plates of snacks and fruit were also laid out, your eyes turning back to your boyfriend. “ready to start drinking?”

chan smirks as he grabs a soju bottle, causing you to sit up for a moment. he pops the top off fashionably and he pours halfway to your shot glass, while pouring to the top for his. you reach for your liquor as you both say cheers, clinking your glasses and taking your shots. you hiss at the strong taste of the alcohol, the slightly bitter taste of regular soju wasn’t your favorite, but it was tolerable.

chan laughs at your reaction, shaking his head, “still getting use to the taste huh?”

“the flavored one taste so much better to me!” you defend. “i dunno how you take down almost three bottles of this,” you take the bottle as you pour another shot, stopping halfway again.

“but yet, you’re getting another drink of it,” he chided and you playfully, lightly hit him on his shoulder. “i never said i didn’t like it, y’know,” you pop a chip into your mouth, swallowing it. “i just prefer other tastes.”

thirty minutes pass by and a pleasant feeling overtakes your body and brain. you’re not completely drunk, but you definitely could say you weren’t sober either. what was the word you were looking for?

“are you tipsy, baby?” chan smiles at you leaning his head back on the couch, hand covering his face, chuckling to himself. while his tolerance was way higher than yours, he had already downed two and a half bottles of soju - and is probably more intoxicated than you are.

“mmmhmm,” your slowly slur, leaning forward but stopping yourself so you wouldn’t fall over. “it feels good though, not gonna lie,” you giggle, shifting yourself to sit closer to your boyfriend. you rest your head on his shoulder again, hand holding on his forearms. you stare at the wall in front of you, but you look up at him when he takes another swig of alcohol, biting your lip watching his adam’s apple move with each swallow, how his lips looked so soft and pillowy.

you tap his arm twice and it brings his attention back to you, chan humming in response to your gesture. “i dunno if told you this but you look really hot today.. i mean you always look hot, but right now?” you stop to bite your lip, legs pressing together tightly, “god, i need you inside of me, on top of me, maybe even underneath me.”

chan blushes profusely at your words, his bright smile making one also spread across your face. you kiss his cheek twice, but something inside you is encourages you to go further and your lips trail down his cheek to the left side of his neck. his breath hitches at the sensation, your moist, wet lips doing something to him.

“i didn’t think my outfit today would have such an effect on you,” he muses, looking down at the long sleeve brown top he matched with some jeans. he hadn’t intended on making you feel a certain way when he puts this together, but he mentally pats himself on the back for it because look where it got him. his favorite girl in the world, tipsy and kissing his neck ever so tenderly.

you chuckle, moving your body to sit on top of his left thigh, praising and thanking all the high powers for convincing you to wear shorts today. you maneuver yourself closer to him, lips diving into his neck again, but this time alternating between kisses and small, light bites. this clearly arouses chan and his hands make their way to the small of your waist, softly gripping the skin.

“mmm channie,” you moan softly as your hands make their way down to his chest and stomach, fingertips tracing the line of his abs. “you’re so handsome and stunning.. everything about you is so attractive. you’re an amazing performer, a hard worker, so patient and understanding.. not to mention funny and insanely talented, you’re like the complete package.”

you momentarily pause as your hand goes inside his shirt, now tracing the lines of his skin. your fingers slowly dance their way down to chan’s zipper, his breathing becoming quicker. “just wanna show you how amazing you are my love, wanna shower you with you all the compliments i can think of,” you kiss his forehead as you tease him by rubbing your fingers lightly against his crotch.

chan leans his head back as he whines from all the praise he was getting. “baby, you’re making me red,” he says a little above a whisper, and you can’t help but smile at how cute he is right now. normally he would be one to take compliments to his advantage, use them to dirty talk you until you were leaking all over him. but tonight was different. there was something in the air chan couldn’t define, but whatever it was, he just wanted to let you take the lead in this moment.

deciding that it was time to switch things up, you begin to slowly grind on your boyfriend’s thigh, the feeling of your shorts and his jeans on your crotch has you immediately moaning. chan’s mouth opens in awe as he lays his eyes back on you, the expression on your face and the way you bite down on your lips has him starting to form a wet spot on his boxers.

chan tenses the muscles in his thigh and it has your chest falling forward, causing you to release a louder moan. “shit, channie,” you whine, a doe like look spread across your face. “please do that again, please,” you beg breathlessly, never stopping your enticing motions on his leg.

chan smirks at how affected you are and fulfills your request, tensing his muscles again and moving his leg side to side to add extra excitement to your folds. you whimper as your body continues to heat up, chan’s movement and groans tightening the coil in your stomach. before you think you’re about to burst, chan taps the back of your thigh twice, bringing all of your movement to a stop.

“there’s two things i want you to do for me pretty girl,” he bites his lips as he eyes you up and down, noticing how your nipples got perky and were peeking through your shirt. “yes baby?” you respond, pushing some of your hair back that got in your face.

“first, stand up and take your shorts off for me. let me see your cute little panties,” he smirks, now eyeing the lower half of your body as you get up from his leg. four eyes dare not leave chan’s as you find the button to your shorts, then you work the zipper down, pulling them down slowly as he groans when they’re completely off your legs, kicking them off to the side.

“like what you see?” you tease, already knowing the answer. chan licks his lips and beckons you to come closer with his index finger.

“second thing, you think you can ride me but sit on my lap this time? i wanna feel your pretty little pussy on my dick.”

“think?” you playfully roll your eyes as you maneuver your body and gingerly sit on his lap, you crotch pressing against chan’s. “i know i can, i wanna feel you too channie,” you moan already feeling his hard on touch the material of your underwear.

“how are you so hard already?” you geniunely question as chan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “not that i’m complaining or anything!”

your boyfriend smiles as he seals your lips in a long, drawn out kiss, guiding your body to grind against him. “that’s all you baby,” chan laughs as you hold on to his shoulders, feeling up his arms. “you feel so good rolling your hips into me like a good girl.. i can feel how wet you are too, soaking these adorable panties you have on,” his fingers lightly touch your clit from the outside and it has you mewling, craving for more - chan’s name and more higher pitched moans than the others you let out earlier consistently coming out your lips.

“channie,” you beg, moving down on him with a bit more pressure. “i need you so bad, need you to fuck me here on the couch after i come.. please tell me you’ll fuck me,” your eyes looking like they were watering. chan tilts your chin up as he pushes his hips up to thrust into you, making sure you kept your eyes on him. “i fuck you just how you want baby, i’ll make sure i’ll have you screaming for me on this couch, have you begging even more than you are now. you want that baby? want me to have you screaming my name?” you pace has sped up as you nod frantically, the coil in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter.

“chan! chan! cha-” you loudly whine as your body becomes undone, slumping into your boyfriend’s chest as you come all over his boxers, making an even bigger mess on his clothes. your breathing is ragged, but you love the state you’re in right now, chan continuing to hold you by the waist as he rubs your back.

“think you’ve sobered up a bit?” chan asks as he helps you sit up. “cause i know i have,” he chuckles, brushing his hair back. you nod, agreeing with him. “yeah, i think so too.”

after a few beats of comfortable silence, you call out your boyfriend’s name, looking up at him. “can you still take me down on the couch? i still haven’t felt you inside me yet,” you fake pout as he smugly smiles, switching your position, and pressing you down on the couch’s material.

“just you wait, i’m gonna leave you wanting my touch for a very long time.”

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]

Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈

TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.

W.C: 4.7k

A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰

You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.

////

//

-

Oh how you had hoped.

Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.

“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”

He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.

“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”

“It puts the lotion on its skin….”

You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.

“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.

-

The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.

Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.

Eddie.

For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.

Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.

Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.

You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.

A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.

This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.

“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.

One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.

Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.

Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.

The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.

“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”

You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.

Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.

“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.

You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”

His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.

It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.

You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.

“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.

“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.

Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”

-

You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.

After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.

The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.

You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.

But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.

You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.

Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.

“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.

Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.

You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.

Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.

Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.

A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.

You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of

Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.

Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”

A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”

You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.

“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.

Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.

A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.

Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”

You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.

“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”

“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.

“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”

Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”

“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”

“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”

Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.

-

The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.

You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.

The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.

The slam of your car door goes unheard.

The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.

“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.

Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”

You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.

“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.

Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.

“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.

“Not here you’re not.”

He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.

“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”

He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.

“Hmm?”

You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.

“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”

You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.

The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.

You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.

“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.

In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.

“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”

A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.

-

Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.

You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”

You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”

“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”

You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”

“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.

You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.

“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”

Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.

His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.

“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”

You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.

vol iii

—

A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!

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[adrienneleclerc]

Birthday Breakfast

Pairing: Landó Norris x Latina! Fiancé! Reader

Summary: Lando’s fiancé makes him a birthday breakfast

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

After dating for 3 years, Lando proposed to his then girlfriend, now fiancé, Y/N. 2 months after, Y/N moved into Lando’s apartment and they’re very happy together. Right now, Y/N and Lando were clearing the table after dinner.

“A ver, mi amor, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Y/N asked, putting the dishes in the sink for Lando to wash. Lando let the water run, wet the sponge, and added soap to wash the plate.

“Mm, i Don’t know, baby girl.” Lando said, scrubbing the plate before rinsing and placing it on the drying rack.

“Well, you don’t have a race this weekend, you haven’t thought about what you wanted to do?” Y/N asked.

“I just want to spend the day with you, darling. I don’t get to do that often, you know?” Lando said, continuing his duty of washing the dishes.

“There must be something you want to do, fresita.” Y/N insisted.

“How about we go to Nice, hm? We could visit a cathedral or one of the many museums.” Lando suggested.

“But that’s more like something I want to do.” Y/N voiced her concern.

“And all I want to do is make you happy, so if my birthday is spent in Nice on the English Walk and eating at Chez Thérésa, that sounds like a good day to me.” Lando said as he finished washing the last dish in the sink and placing it on the drying rack.

After their conversation Y/N set her alarm for 6am so she has time to surprise Lando. She put her pajamas on and did her skincare routine before kissing Lando Goodnight and joining him in bed. When Y/N’s alarm went off, she quickly silenced it.

“Mm, what was that, love?” Lando asked, his voice was Low and a little raspy.

“It’s just a phone call, okay, bebé, go back to sleep,” Y/N said and she removed his hand from her waist and got up. She walked into the kitchen and got out the things she needed to make their breakfast. She put an AirPod in and put on her playlist so she could “focus” on cooking. She pulled up a list of what Lando needs in his F1 driver diet and made him avocado toast with scrambled eggs and turkey bacon on top (let’s pretend it follows his diet) while she made herself chocolate chip pancakes and cut up a strawberry to serve on top. While she was getting a glass from the cupboard, she felt Lando’s hand on her waist,

“Ay, pendejo, you scared me,” Y/N said, turning around to hit him.

“Ow, that was uncalled for.” Lando said.

“Sorry, fresita.” Y/N said and she leaned forward to kiss him. “Happy birthday, Lando. I made us breakfast.”

“Thank you, my love,” Lando said, kissing her,

“Hopefully now your fans will stop being concerned about you eating like a frat boy.” Lando groaned and began kissing her neck. “Baby, I was in Portugal for a week for a modeling job and you were eating expired food.

“Can’t we forget about that and enjoy the breakfast you made while it’s still hot?” Lando asked and Y/N laughed

“Okay cariño, Let’s eat.” Y/N said. “But seriously, you need to stop worrying your fans like that.” Y/N said, cutting up her pancakes to eat.

“I’m trying to do better, I promise.” Lando chuckled and they continued eating. “Thank you for breakfast, baby girl.”

“Happy birthday, fresita.” Y/N said, kissing him.

The End

Was this a little stupid? Yes. But it’s Lando’s birthday so I have to post something

[fuutakaijyama]

IMITADORA! ᝰ JASON TODD . P1

¿quién es esta imitadora hoy en su lugar?

CONTAINS : ANGST, POST BREAK-UP, GETTING WITH THE "ENEMY", COMFORT, EX!DICK GRAYSON, "ENEMY"!JASON TODD. SOOTHING, NON SEXUAL INTIMACY, CUDDLING, NIGHT IN, HURT/COMFORT, FLUFF.

Did it matter? Was it worth all of the effort? Was there any love to begin with? You couldn't answer the question as you cried, looking down at the memory on your camera roll, you and your now ex-boyfriend Richard “Dick” Grayson on your phone with you as your lipstick stained his cheek, looking at each other as he smiled.

Was that real? Was he just doing it to make you happy? You couldn't tell. Feeling the hot tears of shame, grief, anger, confusion, and yearning in your soul.

Not for him, but to feel the way you felt when you were with him.

You didn't want to think about it, groaning in annoyance as you selected pictures from your camera roll, one after one erasing the digital memories that you held, a way to control the grief of your dead relationship.

You’d blocked his number, deleted his contact, got rid of all his social media, given him back all of his things, and moved him out of your apartment. But there was one thing that bit at the back of your mind, slowly eating away at you like some sort of brain eating infestation.

Jason Todd, his brother and the one member of his family he’d mildly forbidden you from interacting with throughout the course of your relationship due to some.. internal affairs.

But you had his number saved in your phone, a call wouldn't hurt. Right?

You hesitated, staring at his contact on your screen in a snowstorm of emotions that threatened to swallow you whole, one after another as the confusion, anger, fear, confusion and conflict washed over you in quick waves.

You pressed the call button and pressed the phone to your ear as you made your way to your couch, sitting with your knees pressed against your chest while your chin rested on your knees.

One ring after another, before the line clicked. “Hello, [Name]?” you could hear his brow raise from the other side of the line, the gruff, deep, and mildly disembodied voice from him hitting you almost like a freight train.

“If this is about you running back to Dick he's happier-” “That's not why I’m calling!-” You cut him off, sitting up straight in annoyance, your back pressed itself into a straight line, jeez.. sucha headache.

You pulled the phone from your ear, pressing the large red button on your screen, the call ending as soon as it started. Back to wallowing in self pity.

“Just-” You groaned, feeling as if any attempt to explain would be futile “Nevermind. I was just calling for some company.”

You both sat on opposite ends of the couch, chips and dip, alcohol and snacks thrown on your coffee table as you chugged a bit of your drink while Jason blabbed about whatever he could think of.

“And that's why he and Kory didn't work out.” He groaned while looking you down on the couch, his deep sunken eyes boring into yours.

“That's stupid.” You muttered, swallowing whatever the hell you had in your mouth while you jerked your head to look at him, shifting around to sit just slightly closer to him. He responded fluidly, both body and voice, his arm wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his side.

“Yeah, trust me I got a front row seat to it.” He chuckled, calloused and dry hand softly massaging the side of your head and hair. Jason Todd, possibly the softest yet stoic man you've ever met.

You leaned into him, placing your drink on the table and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body as the alcohol hitting you in all the right places, the dim light of your living room making the moment feel immensely more intimate than you ever did with Dick.

How sweet.

You felt him shift, opening your eyes as you both awkwardly locked onto each other, the strange push and pull with the pseudo-stranger in your home. He patted his thigh, a silent beckoning gesture, a plea for intimacy. You complied, dragging the blanket from the couch right along with you as you settled into him, taking the blanket from you and draping it over your interlinked bodies, his hand finding your bareback and rubbing it up and down, your arms snaking around his neck.

“This is nice..” You mumbled, prompting him to respond with a firm grunt, a smile on his face as you nestled into each other.

“You know.. I know we aren't- significantly close. But I’d like to take you out some time.” He offered quietly, a hint of fluster coloring his voice. “Like dinner.” he elaborated, his hand on your back never stilling as he spoke.

“I’d like that,” You smiled into his collar, your closed eyes shining into the black void behind your eyelids.

“Yeah?- I’ll plan something and text you.”

© 2023 FUUTAKAJIYAMAS. do not copy any of my layouts / writing + translate / repost onto any other sites.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 7

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When Peter returns, he’s not alone. You stand, feeling gangly as you hunch, as he introduces his friend; Ned. You offer a tense smile and your name. He’s friendly, like Peter, but still a stranger.

“Yo, Pete,” Ned approaches the TV, “why are we not racing for the mushroom cup right now?”

“Ned,” Peter drones.

“He’s a sore loser,” Ned scoffs as he grabs two colourful shapes; one red, another blue. As he nears, he holds one out to you. The buttons on it suggest some sort of controller. “So, how about it, you ready to dethrone the champ?”

“Take it easy on her, Ned,” Peter slides a tray of crackers and cheese between the bowls of chips.

“I’m sure she’s not half as bad as you.”

“Um, I never…” you take the controller and rub your lips together, “I’ve never played… actually.”

“Ah, a noob, no worries then,” Ned plops down on the couch, “we’ll play easy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, I guess, but er…” you look around, “if Peter wants to play–”

“Actually, I need to listen for the door,” Peter counters.

“Right,” you turn back to the TV and sit. You thumb the stick and examine the buttons as the loud music erupts from the speakers.

“So this one you can steer, or you can tilt the controller,” Ned explains, and you press this button to go…”

You try to keep track but you’re not too sure. It seems pretty intuitive. You think.

A new screen comes up and there’s an array of characters to choose from. You choose the princess in the yellow dress over the dinosaur. You wait for the first track to load as your hands sweat around the controller.

The first lap has you veering and crashing but on the second you get a handle of it. It’s not as hard as it seems. Your usual clumsiness doesn’t translate to the digital. You come in fifth. Not as bad as it could be.

As you wait for the second race, voices carry from behind you. You turn as two girls and a guy enter. Ned peeks over, “hey.”

“Hi,” one of the girls chimes back as she approaches, “oh, you must be the one Peter mentioned. I’m Gwen,” she announces, “MJ,” she points over her shoulder, “and Harry.”

“Oh, okay,” you stand again, awkwardly swaying on your long legs, “do you wanna play?”

“We can wait,” she assures, “actually, we’re going to check out the snacks.”

“Right, uh, nice to meet you,” you murmur and sit back down.

Ned asks if you’re ready and you nod. He hits a button and a new race begins. You’re silent as you focus on staying on the road.

“I’m no good at parties either,” he says suddenly, “not that this is much of one. Peter’s not exactly the cool guy.”

“Right, er, it’s… just a lot of strangers.”

“Relax,” Ned says, “I’m gonna get you good. You’re gonna beat them all.”

You laugh, a bit less nervous as he keeps it light, “yeah, I… I’ll try.”

“Pizza,” Peter’s voice punctures the din.

“Finally,” Ned groans but keeps playing, “save me a slice of deluxe.”

The savoury, greasy scent permeates the room almost instantaneously. Your stomach roars but you focus on the screen. You bump another character out of the way as you squint. You’re almost done the last lap.

“Hey,” Ned says, “that was me.”

“Oh, sorry,” you utter as you cross the finish line.

“Woo, first place,” he nudges you lightly, “see, you’re a natural.” He stands as your stomach continues to gurgle, “I’ve trained you well, young padawan.”

“Um,” you furrow your brows.

“Right, not a Star Wars fan, noted,” he smirks, “anyways, I’m starving. How about we feed that dragon in your belly?”

You look down, embarrassed.

“I’m okay,” you say.

“There’s plenty to go around, better get it while it’s hot,” he insists and leaves the controller on the armrest.

You reach over to do the same but stay seated. Your stomach really hurts and your head is starting to pulse. You should eat but you just feel… out of place. Like you shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong and you don’t deserve to share all this nice food.

“Hey, you like cheese,” Peter sits beside you, “got double.”

He holds two plates, hovering one before you.

“Oh, you didn’t have to…”

“You can always switch up if you want pepperoni,” he holds the plate before your nose. You salivate. You can’t hold out any longer.

“Thanks,” you accept the plate, nearly shaking as dizziness swirls in your head.

“No problem,” he sets his plate in his lap and lifts the first slice.

You mirror him and take a small bite of the end. You chew slowly, trying not to betray how your stomach clenches violently. You could devour the slice in a single bite but you don’t want them to judge you. You continue with measured nibbles.

“If you don’t like pizza…”

“No, I do,” you assure him. “Thanks, it’s really good.”

“Well, next time, I’ll make sure to get your fave toppings. You like mushrooms? Oh, don’t tell me you’re an anchovies girl.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t… had that,” you shake your head as you pick at the crust.

“Or maybe you’re more into hamburgers? Oh, how about pasta? Sushi?”

“No, no, I like pizza,” you assure him.

“Well, you can help yourself, there’ll be lots of leftovers, I’m sure,” he stands up, his plate empty as you break the crust of your first in half, “you need more water?”

“No thanks,” you focus on your plate.

“Be right back,” he promises and shuffles away.

“So,” the girl named MJ comes around, chewing while she talks. You look up at her and put the crust down. “You and Peter, how long have you been together?”

“Pardon? Together? Oh, I only just met him a few weeks ago–”

“You two must be getting serious,” she says, “you’re a cute couple.”

“What?” Your heart hammers. “No, I–”

“You know,” Gwen approaches, “just like Peter to spring a girlfriend on us without warning.”

Your mouth opens and you blink dumbly. They think you and Peter are together?

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you say.

“Oh, ha, sorry, no labels,” MJ winks, “it’s only what he told us.”

“He said that?”

“To be honest, when we saw you, we didn’t believe him,” Gwen snickers.

You swallow and stand up. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say a word. You take your plate to the table and put it down. You grab a paper towel from the roll and wipe your fingers off as you head for the stairs. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. 

They couldn’t believe Peter would be with someone like you. They’re right to doubt that but it still stings. Just as always, you’re not good enough.