#wonder how the bees and other bugs are doing

[petit-papillion]

Charles at Buzzin' Corner | 2023 Japanese Grand Prix

📸 Scuderia Ferrari (edited by Petit)

[blujayonthewing]

just remembered the time I was lamenting on twitter about not having bug friends anymore and my ex replied ':('

darlin. you live in pennsylvania. I meant friends I can actually hang out and catch bugs with

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?���

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[vraska-theunseen]

😶h

aughhhh. aughhhhhjhhhh

[sunnami]

deleted draft/scene - watch me, don’t touch me, love me, don’t hurt me.

legitimately cannot write anything at the moment, so please have this for a bit T-T

“LILY, DARLING! That dress looks utterly divine! Is that Charmeuse silk? The purple simply brings out the color in your eyes! And your skin, my love! Just glowing! Tell me—have you been trying those snail facials? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays.”

Amidst the Yule Ball festivities, a crowd gathers in the corner of the icy ballroom; far beyond the ages of awkward teenage hand-holding, and an acquired taste for Firewhiskey rather than fruit punch. In the middle of it all—is you. Obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention, whether they like it or not. But even the Dementors in Azkaban would find themselves drawn to your shrilling voice and careless display of wealth; like a bee to a field of flowers. Your gown is dripping in black, hand-woven gothic lace, and drapes of ruffled, yellow satin skirts. It is a testament to your House—the cete of badgers. A pear cut, Canary Diamond necklace sits atop your neck. The capelet around your shoulders is of black velvet and gold trimmings. 

(Always the belle of the ball, but Sirius Black wonders if there’s anything in your head at all.)

(“Bloody hell.” Marlene grabs the flask of whiskey from Sirius’s hands and pours the burning liquid down her throat. “I’m going to need more of this if I plan on surviving the night. Surely there are more important matters to discuss than French designers and our frilly dresses. It’s like I’m back in sixth-year all over again.”

Sirius shakes the now-empty container in amusement. “And you thought stealing my stash was the best idea? Do you know how hard it was to sneak this in with Minnie glaring down my shoulders? I swear that woman treats me like I’m still fourteen.”)

“We work in the same castle, Lily flower, but it’s a pity we don’t run into each other much,” You say liltingly, lipstick staining the rim of your champagne glass. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately avoiding me!”

Lily flashes you a constrained smile. “On the contrary, I’ve been rather busy these days helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. My responsibility, after all, is first and foremost—the children.” She raises a brow at you contemptuously. “Not all of us have the luxury of skipping work for tea and gossip.”

You hum, lips quirked in amusement. “Oh? That’s a shame. Narcissa and I would love for you to join us one day.” 

“Perhaps when I’ve no longer important things to do,” says Lily in a saccharine-sweet tone. 

You grow bored of toying with Lily—to her relief—and decide to throw a bone at Rita Skeeter. The bloodthirsty journalist preys hungrily at your every word—and you’re more than willing to satiate the irritable, little pest. You have nobles from pure-blooded families kissing at your feet for a moment of your time; entertaining a crowd like this takes no effort. (Except for the Marauders, you find. They’re the section that plays out of tune in the orchestra you’re conducting.) 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rita darling, of all the people I come upon in Rome—it’s Vittoria Zabini!” You throw your head back in laughter as Rita’s eyes grow wide as a bug’s. “On a honeymoon, no less!” You wink at Rita. “This makes her fourth one now, I believe.” 

As predicted, Rita greedily whips out her Quick-Quotes Quill. “Riveting.” She pushes her glasses upwards with a quirk of her lips. “We may have tomorrow’s front page at our hands.” 

Lily hides a scoff by taking a sip of her sparkling beverage. “Surely we have more important news for the wizarding world than an innocent woman’s marriage.” 

You gasp melodramatically. “But this is Vittoria Zabini! Haven’t you ever wondered why her husbands mysteriously disappear after months of marriage?”

“Not even once!” Lily slams her glass down onto the round, draped table; nostrils flaring and chest heaving. “Sorry.” She dabs a napkin at her lips with a heavy exhale. “Please excuse me. I’ve just lost my appetite.” 

“Poor dear,” You mutter as the red-headed beauty makes for the group of Gryffindors a few feet away. She instantly collapses into James’s arms, no doubt complaining about your charming personality. There’s an odd ache in your heart as you watch the McKinnon girl pat her back comfortingly; Remus Lupin taking Lily’s hands and easing her anger. You’ve never felt a camaraderie such as theirs. Always the Gryffindors, and their flagrant displays of loyalty and whatnot. 

How repulsive. 

this was one of the first ever drafts for the fic! and no, the yule ball scene won’t be like this, it’ll be quite better, i hope. ;0

[derangedanomaly]

Bad Sans with a Tall Thick S/O I mean tall to the point they are at boob level (idk if this'll apply to horror but she can be at his chest level but she's still tall af)

Sounds like a dream to me- WOAH!!! WHO SAID THAT??!

MASTERLIST

BAD SANSES X READER

THEM BEING AT YOUR BOOB LEVEL

WARNING: Established relationship, suggestive?, Not proofread!

NIGHTMARE:

It isn't the first time he finds himself in this kind of predicament.. and it certainly isn't the last one either.

You can't help but stare down at him in slight concern, yes, that is the Nightmare you're concerned about, but still- he was acting very uncharacteristic. He was just staring at your chest area, almost frozen in spot... "Night? Dear..?" He didn't respond to your voice immediately, gaze still glue to your chest. "Are you feeling ok?" His gaze finally snapped to your face instead, as he blinked a several times. "Sometimes, I wonder if you rile me up on purpose..." He finally slurred out as he coughed a few times, clearing his throat.

You wore a tight fitting dress, that hug your curves perfectly. (I'm leaving the dress completely to your own imagination, except for the tight part! ^^) Maybe, you were wearing this on purpose, but you weren't gonna reveal that. You had quite the fun doing this to Nightmare, he looked like he had a hard time composing himself.

All you did next, was simply leave. Leaving him with his new problem. You flash him a smirk before finally going to your shared room. So that's how it is, well if that's the case, he'll have to go make a punishment for you.

★

KILLER:

"Kills..." Nothing.

"Kiiillls!" Not even a budge.

"GODDAMMIT KILLER!" Ah, finally. He seemed to snap out of his gaze at your boobs. He stared at you wide eyed, as he wiped his mouth from any drool. Yes, that's right, he tends to drool during his stares..

You were wrapped in your towel, holding a pair of pants and a shirt. You've just gotten out of the shower, and Killer decided to go in the bathroom at this moment. It's like he has a radar for this..

You can't help but shake your head at him. "You're always so frozen on the spot during your unmoving gaze at my chest." Killer smirked at your remark, as he grasped your hip. "But you like it...right?" Of course you do.. how can you ever deny him when he gives you his pouting look?

"Don't give me that... I was about to get dressed!" You try to avoid his question, as you remembered that you're still unclothed. Killer's smirk has just gotten wider, if it's even possible. Oh no...looks like this'll be a long night... There goes your relaxation!

★

DUST:

"You're so beautiful..." You can't help but flush at Dust's compliment, as you avert your gaze away from him.

You've just met up with Dust for a date. You're wearing a black dress, while Dust's wearing a tuxedo. How noble.

You giggle a little when you notice how he's trying to refrain from staring at your chest area. He's so considerate.

"S-Something funny, sweetie?" You awe at his nickname, and hold his hand. "You're just so cute... You know, if you want... You can stare." You lean in to whisper the last part to him, ending it with a simple wink. His cheeks flushed purple, as he let out a shuddered sigh

Dust seemed to melt at your consent, almost as if he's been craving it. "Thank you, sweetie, you have no idea how difficult it was..." You giggle yet again, squeezing his hand slightly.

★

HORROR:

Horror beams at you, as you make your way over to him. "What's up bee?" He let out a short laugh at your nickname. He then points to an apron, also motioning to his own, wrapped around him. "You want to cook together?" He excitedly nods, holding a spatula in his hand. "Why not?"

You try to stiffle a giggle when he reaches over to you and holds you up. You'd say you're pretty tall... So you always get baffled when you see Horror's height. There's probably no one, other than the people in his AU, that can rival his height. Everyone probably looks like bugs to him.

"Hey, bee?" He hums, while chopping the meat. "What's the secret to your height?" His movements stopped, as he looked over at you, seemingly confused. "Well...I mean- compared to you, I'm pretty short, and that's saying something, so-" he's so quick that you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you, holding your cheeks. "...Pretty tall..."are the only words that leaves his mouth, before giving you a kiss.

He skips away happily to the counter, while you sit there, cheeks flared up red, and out of words.

★

Feel like this sucks ngl. But still, hope it's to your liking ^^

[arseniy-arsenicum33]

All Hermits in Hero Forge!

Season 10 is coming! And I've finished modeling every Hermit (Thus far) in their TCG-cards poses!

Special thanks to Hoffen for their original minecraft models...

You've already saw these eight models in my Life-series minis showcase, slight tweaks and costume changes... I really need to buy Hero Forge subscription, so i can manipulate fingers individually... Now, for the new guys... Guess what?! I've figured out how to make links! Now you can see my references directly! Technology!

Ren got his cool casual look...

Docm77 inspired primarily by Belmarzi's design, such as this... It was very funny to suddenly stop in the middle of this project to model him hugging Snoop Dogg...

JoeHills, unsurprisingly, based on real-life Joe Hills... But I did have this comic by my side while modeling him, for moral support, because modeling someone's likeness is always stressful...

Cleo's pose pose a challenge, It uses a transparent one-legged skeleton inside the main body... Like a real armour-stand magic! I like how it turned out...

I've started watching Zedaph very recently, so both Noxolotl's and Applestruda's portrayals of him were very helpful in forming mine...

Blaise's Hermit line up was used for Cub and Hypno, which you will see down the line... Bee's art was helpful, once again, and these Cub-arts by Sylvan...

My main goal with Jevin was to somehow convincingly make a slime look slimy... I was so ready to make him as rotund as this art, but alas, program restrictions...

This art was used for False at the very beginning, but it drifted so much with the addition of cheekbones, that it doesn't look like it at all anymore...

Hypno had a surprise for me, because before making this model, I've never saw this brown line on his chest as a boob-window... But now, I am convinced... This is the art, that guided me to that conclusion... Ghostea's and Locus's portraits were useful for figuring out his face...

Iskall lifted from this art... Hero Forge doesn't have any cool one-eyed visors, so I've settled on monocle for him and Doc...

Hero Forge also for some reason doesn't have a hand-held flower, so pretend, that Stress doesn't hold a pen, okay? And has a cardigan... Based mainly on this and this art, which was also used for XB...

My best guess with Keralis was that he is doing Edvard Munch's "The Scream" ommage... Thanks to Myra and Cole , without them, Keralis would've looked more like a bug with them big ol' eyes...

Oh, boy, XB... A true enigma for me... Pictured here, lightly jogging... Only you could tell me, if I did a good job with him, I sincerely have no idea... Since this is in part a TCG-inspired project, it would've been wise to use references from the actual TCG-cards... To bad, I've came up with this idea near the end of a project...

I have made so many Xisuma-costumes, and only now I am showing you the main friendly-neighbourhood DoomGuy cosplayer himself... Do I need to credit id Software for this?

WelsKnight is my champion in regards to how many references I needed for him... 1 2 3 4 5 6 7! Despite how many armour options Hero Forge has, making something coherent out of them was difficult... Especially, keeping in mind, that one day I'm going to model HelsKnight as well...

And finally, TinFoilChef, based heavily on this stunning artwork... And somewhat on this skin by Ink-Ghoul... It all comes around...

And the Creator Himself! Beef! And his wonderful portraits: 1 2 3 4...

I actually going to use him as an example, to address something...

Here is how my screen looks, then I am working on a model... My method of creation is derivative by nature, it requires the art and creativity of other people... And I have SO MUCH anxiety about this... Not being an artist, but still trying to make something with my limited capabilities... And post it on the internet, oh horror...

With recent talks about plagiarism and AI-art, it has come to my attention, that I myself not so different from AI, just not so efficient... So, this is why I so obsessively document my influences, it is the least I can do... Credit the artists, that I stole from... Please, check out everyone mentioned, subscribe to them, commission new pieces of art...

And if you've liked my dorky "minecraft youtubers made in DND character creator" models... Thank you...

Sometime later there will be a google doc on my blog with links to every model I've ever made, go nuts with them... Try Hero Forge for yourself, it's fun...

[honey-minded-hivemind]

💿Reboot AU... Possible Mutations of the Mystery Character, by Reader (and Scott)

• They're mentioned as very energetic, and as a possible insomniac, as there are several mentions of late night talks they have with the other characters and of the teens and adults finding them up at odd hours in the mansion (yeah, they had trouble sleeping, I think they took medicine for it)

• They seemed to like sweets, as well as meat and dairy... So they had a need for lots of protein, and a sweet tooth, apparently... Some foods they've liked are casseroles, chicken nuggets and tenders and rotisserie chickens, shrimp, pies, lemon cake, potatoes, pancakes, bacon and sausages, as well as smoothies, chocolate milk, and orange rolls... (they were a really good cook, too!) (Thank you for the input, Scott)

• This character has been seen before, and seemed to be a kind, down-to-earth person with a past they don't mention often, besides saying it's best left forgotten... I wonder if that will be important later... They get along with most of the teens, regardless of sides or morals, and seem to respect most of the adults... They do not seem to like most humans, though... (they are important! and super helpful! and they did have a past full of bad things, unfortunately...)

• They look kinda like... me? Well, okay, my ideal version of me... They seem to prefer warm colors, anything from red and orange and yellow to pink and golden and white, always with some black thrown in... They have a few piercings, maybe a few rings they wear, amd I think the show had an episode where they revealed they were... ace? Or aro? Aroace? It was a pretty bold episode for that time (they were very brave to say that! and no one loved them any less!)

• I don't know if they're related to anyone... As I can never remember their power, I'm not sure what it was or anything besides a few general ideas as to what I think it was... (it's okay, Reader! sometimes it's best to go over what you know, then find the truth out from that!)

• Possible Mutation One: They're very stretchy and rubbery, almost like a stress ball or gooey worm or some other heroes... They seem to be always a step away if there's a problem, so it makes sense they can easily get tangeled up in it... It would also explain how they keep everything around them calmer... After all, they just have to stretch a hand or a leg, and they can stop whoever is causing mischief or trouble (good guess, Reader! certainly creative! and what do you mean, other heroes? what other heroes?)

• Possible Mutation Two: They're able to control electricity and energy. It would explain why they are energetic and have trouble sleeping, if they have a constant supply of energy in their body. It could explain why they fear water, because their body could potentially electrocute itself if they end up in a large body of water... Maybe they can also make loud noises, like thunder... Thunder is the sound after lightning strikes, right? (right indeed, kid! also a good guess! that would make showers and baths and pool parties hard to do...)

• Possible Mutation Three: They're some kind of feral mutant? At least five characters have fluff or animal powers, so it would make sense if this character did too? It would explain why they eat so much, and why they prefer meat and dairy... Their hair does look soft and fluffy, too... I'm not sure if I remember if they had claws or a tail or fangs or horns or any odd colors, though... (hmmmm... good guess again, kid! and yes! their hair does look super soft and fluffy!)

• Possible Mutation Four: They can turn into a swarm of insects or has a stinger or controls bugs/other people... Maybe thats why they like sweets? All kinds of hymenoptera insects are attracted to sweets, like bees and wasps and ants and hornets... so are flies, too, but they eat anything... Maybe that explains the warmer colors, too? (good guess once more, kiddo! that would be a unique power! a little scary, though)

• Possible Mutation Five: They can control minds or can control pheromones... Maybe both? They mentioned not wanting their power before... and this seems like one most wouldn't want to have... Maybe that's their dark secret? Their hidden ability? It could apply to a few of these other ones, actually... Is that why they left? Was there a falling out? Some sacrifice? Or a hidden plot in the shadows? (... let's not talk about it, kiddo...) (do you need a hug, Scott?) (... yes... your hugs feel amazing... thank you...)

@sugar-soda @thewickedweiner Your thoughts?

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Hii love congrats on 200 followers I was wondering if I could request a spider man Ethan Landry x female reader where he takes care of his drunk girlfriend

Thank you, love 🕸🕷that means so much to me!! I hope you enjoy this 🌼

Drunk Love

Summary: Spiderman! Ethan takes care of his drunk girlfriend. || m.list

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Fluff! little angst swearing, drinking, throwing up mentions of NSFW 🫶

update: college is kicking my ass, but break is going to be here soon!!!

did not proof read

ALSO NEW THEME!!!

It was girls' night which meant drunk confessions and dumb middle school games in the living room of the Carpenter sisters' apartment.

As much as the boys thought it was unfair getting thrown out, they planned to have their own fun night, which was sitting in their apartment living room yelling at a flat screen tv over the video game of the hour.

Everyone at this point had found out Ethan your boyfriend was Spiderman, he told them about a year into taking on the role, when he had told them Mindy had stood up shouting "YES! you owe me twenty bucks Chad" everyone had laughed about it and seemed not surprised.

Months had passed and everyone got used to the disappearances of Ethan, but for you it was hard. You always missed him, you felt like you never saw him. Between classes and working, your schedule never matched with his. The occasional nights where he'd slip in through your window would be a treat, but it was never enough.

It was already passed midnight, the drinks were getting stronger, and the music was getting louder.

"Alright y/n we all answered now it's your turn! Where's the weirdest place you've had sex." Mindy stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and grape juice in her hand. Everyone was giggling at the question as your face was blushing.

You looked up acting like you were thinking of it, Sam and Tara were sitting on the couch trying to guess places, Anika was making some snacking and drinks with Mindy.

Setting your drink on the coffee table you laughed to yourself finally landing on a place, it weirdest and it's definitely not a normal place. "Ethan wanted to take me on a date around the city, but Spiderman style. So, we went swinging around and then at some point he made this web between some random buildings, and we could look at the stars and well you know one thing led to another."

Tara, and Sam's mouth hung open, "no fucking way you had sex in the middle of the sky on a fucking spider web!!" Everyone's eyes were wide open looking at you as if you told them your darkest secret.

"I mean it's not that bad, its honestly really comfortable plus Ethan he-"Mindy's voice cut you off as she came back into the room with drinks, Anika followed holding the snacks.

"No, we don't need to hear anything about Ethan, I can't look at him other than the shy nerdy boy" you laughed and kept the rest to yourself.

After a good hour or so Tara was knocked out, Mindy and Anika were going to walk back to their place and Sam was going to head to Danny's place across the street. Your mind was racing, and your body felt so hot and warm.

Your mind had thought about Ethan, your heart ached so much at the thought of not seeing him right now. Pulling out your phone you thought about texting him.

The boys had taken a little bit of a break from the game to talk, Chad wanted to talk about how things were going with Tara when ethan felt his phone buzz. Grabbing it from the counter he read a message from you.

pretty girl <3

'baby i miss youu so muh! like i wantto see you!'

'oh i think im just druk'

'your withchad illl leaave you alone'

'im srry'

'i love you baby haha bug boy i miss you'

He smiled looking at the messages, he thought it was cute anytime you were drunk. If you weren't together you would spam his phone in love notes, it was his favorite thing.

bugg boy 🕷

'my love are you okay?'

'Do you want me to come get you? I don't mind!'

'Baby you don't have to bee sorry, you know I love these messages!!'

'Pretty girl, I'm heading over!'

Chad had been fine with Ethan leaving, that had also given him a reason to see his girlfriend. Taking Ethan's car they drove to the girls' apartment, they didn't worry about knocking since it was their second home.

Walking in Chad could see Tara curled up in the couch chair, Ethan's landed on you. You were laying down on your stomach face buried into the couch half hanging off. Chad walked to Tara talking to her softly, he got her up and guided her to her room.

Ethan sat on the ground next to the couch, his hand softly rubbing your back. "My love, I'm here. How are you feeling?" You felt the warmth of his hand through your shirt, the sound of his voice so low and soft made your heart flip.

You raised your head slightly already smiling, "bug boy, my bug boy" You pushed yourself off of the couch making the rest of your body slide into his lap. "ugh I missed you" he chuckled as he felt you shove your face in his neck.

"How drunk are you?" you giggled at his question, something about it seemed funny. Ethan pushed his body up so he could take a look at you.

You laid in his lap with your eyes half closed, "you're so beautiful. Like yes, you're hot but like also so beautiful, with your curly fluffy hair oohh and your freckles- your freckles are so pretty and your eyes- godd I'm so in love with you" Your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest under his jacket a little.

His face burning red with your confession. "My love as much as I love hearing you say you love me; we need to get you to bed. Let's get you home-"

"Your bed. I want your bed, it smells like you, and if you aren't there when I wake up at least I have your sheets that have your smell" You nodded to yourself as you thought out loud, Ethan wasn't meant to hear that, but You couldn't control what you were saying right now.

"Fine, we will go to my place." Your face lit up at the agreement. He helped you stand up only for you to tumble, "Okay, hold on." he turned around, so his back was facing your chest. "Can you jump up?"

He squatted down more, so it wasn't such a big jump. Your hands rested loosely on his shoulders. You jumped as much as you could, and his hands grabbed the back of your thigh, pulling you up. He jumped himself a little so you could get on his back comfortably.

He checked on Chad and Tara and saw they were good and then made his way back to the car. You were half asleep on his back, mumbling little things to yourself. "Bug boy is my boyfriend, I love bug boy, how am I moving?"

He laughed at your little comments. You're going to have a rough morning tomorrow. He made it back to the car and placed you on the passenger side, leaning in. He was trying to buckle you in, but you grabbed his face, pulling him to you. Your lips met his, and he could taste the cheap liquor. "Mmm, I love being able to do that." Your words were slurred, but he could understand you.

After a solid thirty minutes, you reached Ethan's apartment. He carried you in and set you on the corner of his bed, running to the kitchen he got water, and as he turned to the sink, he felt his spider tingles go off. The next thing he heard was you saying "oh oh" he ran back to the room to see you stumbling into the bathroom. Making it just in time to the toilet he grabbed your hair as you felt all the alcohol make its way back up.

"Its okay baby let it out" he felt bad he couldn't do more to help you, he hated seeing you like this.

His hand ran up and down your back, as you sat there for a few more minutes. "I'm fine, I swear, Ethan I'm good" your voice was echoing from the inside of the bowl.

"Do you need to throw up anymore?" his voice was soft and filled with concern.

You shook your head, leaning up from the toilet. he grabbed your wrist taking a hair tie from you. Pulling your hair back he made a sloppy bun.

Picking you up he sat you on the lid edge of the tub, resting your back on the wall you watched him. He flushed the toilet and cleaned around it with the mess you made and seeing him clean just made something in you sad.

"Oh god Ethan I'm so sorry- I'm sorry I made a mess on your-" before you could finish, he reached over cupping your face.

"Hey, hey, look at me it's okay. I don't mind, it's a little bit of puck but who cares. I'm here to take care of you, okay. Don't be sorry, any excuse to take care of my love I will do anything" he kissed the top of your head. Your face was even more flushed from his words.

"I need to brush my teeth and take my makeup off" you tried to get up but felt Ethan's webs stick to your wrist.

"No. Sit down. I will do it" his voice was stern yet loving.

He turned around with a makeup wipe remover already in hand, kneeling down he grabbed your face pulling it down to look at him. The coldness of the wipe made you gasp but then hum, the feeling of his hand on your face made you lean into his touch.

You looked at him, seeing the moles you love so much scattered over his face. The brown eyes you fell in love with, then your eyes landed on a scar on his right eyebrow. Your lips formed into a frown as you reached out and touched it.

Ethan took notice as your face was full of sadness. "what's wrong pretty girl?"

"I don't like you going out at nighttime fighting, I don't want you to go out one night and not return. I miss you." He saw the tears in your eyes build up.

He didn't know how to answer at first, his hand still resting on your face while the other hand wiped your makeup. "I'm sorry, pretty girl. I didn't realize you felt like this. How about we talk about this more in the morning."

Your eyes were getting heavy as each minute passed, mindlessly nodding your head already forgetting the conversation. Ethan then helped you somewhat brush your teeth and get to bed, where a glass of water sat waiting for you on the nightstand.

Chugging half of it you climbed into bed smiling, "mmmh smells like my boyfriend" you grabbed his pillows burying your face in them. Ethan couldn't help but laugh at your actions.

He followed you into his bed, lying next to you, his arms wrapped around you pulling you closer. Your face buried into his neck as you moved to get comfortable. "I have the best boyfriend, ha-ha, spiider-man, my bug boy" he felt you lightly kissing his neck before sleep fully took over your body.

[cozzzynook]

Drift and Rodimus fragging for the first time. Drift thinking he did a really good job until he noticed Rodimus seemed unsatisfied. He tried to deny it telling him that he was the best frag he'd ever had.

However Drift knows he's lying and bothers him until he admits that during the war he interfaced with Soundwave and it was amazing. No one else could compare and it wasn't his fault.

Hear me out…

This is how Drift finds out Rodimus when he was Hot rod was a decepticon slut who fragged Soundwave multiple times to the point some of Soundwaves minicons are Rodimus’s sparklings as well.

Rodimus has fragged Soundwave on multiple occasions and he’s fragged Dreadwing and Skyquake together on multiple occasions as well. Rodimus admits he has a few sparklings and they’re all well taken care of and with decepticons.

Its why the decepticons bring no harm to him because he’s a high ranking decepticon carrier.

He’s got two sparklings with Soundwave, a set of twins that belong to Dreadwing and Skyquake—Drift knows their spikes are huge, he’s surprised Rodimus never ripped his valve taking the two.

Hot rod surprises him when he admits he’s been intimate with Tarn but not in a sexual way more of a Tarn drank his milk straight from his nozzles as a comfort and he’s acted like a carrier towards him ever since. Its just something he could never push away and the decepticons didn’t try to stop it since it made Tarn more stable.

Rodimus admits he’s fragged the seeker trine just once but he and Starscream are really just friends who helped each other with rut and heat cycles with the trine getting their turns as well. They really only want Bumblebee and he was more than happy to see his little brother get conjunxed with the three.

Drift didn’t see that coming but he should have since Bee is always sparked with a bitty too big for his tanks. No wonder the trine are always carrying him in their arms and the little bug doesn’t complain.

“Oh and then there was the time I fragged Deathhead. He’s actually such a sweet spark in berth he made me giggle and blush the entire time. Oh and it was nice having a frag sesh with Lockdown and Swindle, but really I just wanted to watch. They’re so cute and in love even if they don’t say it. Those two have been dancing around each other for millennia.”

Rodimus even tells him how he’s fragged Megatron on a series of occasions and that he has three sparklings with the former warlord who took great care of him and their sparklings.

“Honestly the only reason we didn’t conjunx was because of Optimus..He didn’t do anything it’s just…you know what nevermind. Point is, if I ever get sparked again I’d want him or Soundwave to be the sires. Dreadwing and Skyquake have a mate now and I don’t want to intrude. Though Soundwave does look like he needs a break..maybe I should bring all the minicons with me for a while so he can relax?”

Rodimus is just lost in thought while Drift is looking at him so surprised and horny because he wants that forge carrying his sparklings.

But then he stops and asks a very important question.

“Why didn’t you frag me when I was Deadlock?”

“Hm? Oh! You’re in love with Ratchet. Thats why. I’m still rooting for you two to conjunx,” Rodimus smiled before comming Soundwave and offering to take the minicons for a while.

Drift is just stuck because Rodimus is right.

He’s also stuck because not even a day later Rodimus is taking care of minicons, Tarn who snuck aboard and Megatron who eyes Rodimus taking care of all these bots like the surprisingly great carrier he is while playing with a vial he knows just has to be innermost energon.

Drift is comming Ratchet with a plan to keep Rodimus to themselves before he knows it, hoping he’s not too late when he sees another handful of cons walk in wanting the same thing.

[anipgarden]

What Kind of Plants to Add

This is my sixth post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert–just an enthusiast–but I hope something you find here helps! 

I’d love to be able to give a quick and easy list of things to add, but frankly I can’t do that. I can strongly encourage you, however, to look at these categories of plants and do further research to discover what’s native to your area, so you can plant things that’ll have the most impact in your particular area.

With that being said, I will mention a few plants as examples. This is in no way, shape, or form me telling you that you have to or even should buy these specific plants. Not every plant works well in every place in every garden, not to even mention across countries. Above all, if you’re wondering what plants you should be adding, I can wholeheartedly say plants that are native to your area--or at least nonnative non-invasive.

Flowers

Flowers are some of the most common ways people work to increase biodiversity in their gardens, and who can blame them? Seeing pops of color out your window, and directly seeing the impact via butterflies and bees visiting the garden? It’s a win-win for us and the wildlife!

Flowers--especially native wildflowers--are a quick, easy, and cheap way to increase wildlife traffic in your garden. Perennial gardens are more likely to get you the most bang for your buck, as they’ll come back year after year if you treat them well. But don’t dismiss annuals--if you get ones that easily reseed, they’ll eagerly return on their own! If you can, do your best to ensure that the flowers you plant all have different blooming periods--that way, your garden can support wildlife throughout the year instead of for just one brief season. 

Flowers are environmental super boosters. Their nectar and pollen can feed insects and birds, their stems and leaves can provide nesting materials for all sorts of creatures, and their seeds are a popular food source among birds at all times of the year.

Climbing Plants

Climbing plants can be fantastic options for maximizing your impact. If you have limited ground space, growing up can provide interest as well as additional habitat for all kinds of creatures.

Training plants up a trellis, fence, or bare wall offers food, shelter, and habitat. Trumpet vines, passionflowers, honeysuckles, and more will provide sweet nectar for pollinators as well as nesting and hiding spaces for other wildlife like birds, bugs, and lizards. Do note that in some cases, climbing plants can actually affect the structural integrity of walls and roofs if allowed to climb too much and too far along a house, so be careful. 

Bushes/Shrubs

Bushes provide shelter for creatures, which then provides hunting grounds for other animals. Their fallen leaves and petals can be food and shelter for detritivores, amphibians, reptiles, and small mammals--and they also provide good cover for moving around the garden, for creatures who like to stay hidden. They can be a bit more pricey to obtain--unless you get cuttings or seeds and are willing to wait--but they’ll definitely be worth it, and they’re typically low-maintenance once they’re established.

Bonus points if you get a flowering and fruiting bush, like bottlebrush, serviceberry, lilac, or others. This’ll make your bushes not only a place of shelter, but a food source as well--and depending on the kind you pick, may be food for you too! Making a garden border with a series of bushes can be a great option to providing lots of habitat, if you can manage it.

Shrubs with pithy or hollow stems are excellent options for supporting solitary bees. Some examples you could look into are elderberry, raspberry, blackberry, or sumac.

Trees

Trees have a high up-front cost and take awhile to grow, but once they’re settled in place they provide crucial habitat to all kinds of creatures! Insects will be attracted to flowers they may provide, or to nest in the wood. Others may eat the leaves as food, or use them as nesting materials. Birds will perch and nest in trees, and feed off the fruits and seeds and insects that also use the tree. Squirrels also use trees as nesting places, piling up dead leaves into huge clusters to raise their young in, and will absolutely feast on any nuts the tree may provide. Mice, badgers, and more will feast on fallen fruits or seeds, and bats roost in the trunks when given the chance. Detritivores eat fallen leaves and decomposing fruits, providing further food for hunting creatures. Trees can also be good for us--they help block out noise and air pollution, and are the poster child for taking CO2 and making it breathable oxygen. Not to mention they can provide plenty of food for us, too. Nesting grounds, hunting grounds, shelter from weather, and more--trees are, in my opinion, likely to be the best way to boost biodiversity long-term. If you can get your hands on a sapling for cheap and can care for it for awhile, I’d definitely give it a shot! Make sure the tree won’t get too big for where you’re growing it, though--you’ve definitely gotta plan for the long-term before you plant any. 

Some trees can be grown in containers. Though they won’t become gigantic branching behemoths, they’ll still do their part to support all the life that depends on them. Growing a tree from seed may take awhile, but could be an easy option to getting one if you have the patience--the trees are more than happy to help you, as they drop tons of seeds and fruit in fall for you to gather. 

Groundcover

Bare soil is the enemy of microbial life in the soil, and while small pockets of bare soil can be great nesting places for bees and other insects, having swaths of empty soil should be avoided. Groundcover plants grow low to the ground in a sprawling habit, and will often spread quite easily on their own. This is a great way to provide shelter, keep soil temperatures cool, block out weeds, and give your soil life a chance to thrive.

Sometimes, ground covers don’t even have to be planted in the ground. Shallow-rooted plants like succulents, ferns, and alyssum can be planted into cracks in stone walls, and moss can be planted by making moss graffiti and painting it onto a surface. As with climbing plants, do make sure that you don’t cause extra damage to important walls and housing foundations.

Host Plants

Host plants get their own section, because plants of all kinds can be host plants for different creatures! It’s common to think only flowers can be host plants in the beginning, but in reality, many bushes and trees are host plants to dozens of species of butterflies and moths. Honestly, I feel that factor's not talked about enough. Look up what insects live in your area and what kind of host plants they need, and plant some if you can! Bonus points if you can plant a variety of them--I know that there’s hundreds of kinds of milkweed, each one flowering and leafing up around different times of the year. Planting several varieties of milkweed, then, would provide monarchs with food through several seasons, allowing many more of them to grow up in your garden!

Nectar Plants

Plants that provide nectar to insects is a great foundation to increasing biodiversity! This is, of course, many native wildflowers (and even nonnative wildflowers, though be sure they aren’t invasives who’ll do more harm than good), but many native bushes, vines, and trees will also provide nectar to hungry pollinators! 

Keystone Species

To be frank, some plants can have a bigger impact than others in a landscape. By all means, every bit helps, but if you want to boost biodiversity quickly there are a few plants that can essentially serve as the backbone of local ecosystems that you can grow in anything from a balcony pot to a small patch of your backyard. These plants can be different depending on where you are, so do your research to find out what would be best to grow in your area. If you can’t get them all? That’s alright! But even hitting just a few of these target species really can do a lot.

That’s the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about things to keep in mind/continue to do once you get plants in the ground! Until then, I hope this advice was helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

[notjustjavierpena]

i loved getting an insight into hubby in 4am. It got me thinking about other times I’d like to see into his brain.

Did he know straight away that reader was different and a potential future for him or did it take him a little while due to his past as a womaniser? His brain working overtime trying to process all the new feelings.

Did he ever feel like he should leave her feeling like he’s not good enough?

Bee (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N:  This is not totally what you had in mind, I think. However, this came to me and I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s soft and tender ❤️

Summary: Javier reflects on how gentle you make him.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Javi POV, fluff, insecurities, love

Word count: 1.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52937182/chapters/137384134

Bee

Sun filters through the clouds above Javier as he lies on the ground behind his father’s ranch. You’ve talked him into drowning in the tall fields of grass that surround the fenced-off area for the cows, listening to the sound of a million buzzing bugs that hide from you as you invade their home. He isn’t too fond of anything that could possibly land on him, too rough around the edges still to treat nature with the care that you do. 

You are talking softly yet enthusiastically about shapes that you find in the sky, reaching for heaven as you explain or draw out shapes with your finger. There’s been a dragon, a heart, and a bunny. You wonder out loud if it means something but Javier can hardly follow your words despite trying. He is too busy gazing upon you, having turned his head to the side to look at you in secret, the greatest marvel in his presence right now. 

The sun is hot in Texas right now and the shadows of the grass engulfing you and him dance across your face, your eyes glinting whenever the sun catches them even if it makes you scrunch up your nose and hold a palm up to cover the sunrays. Everything about this moment feels so delicate, terrifyingly sweet when he naturally thinks he is made of harsher stuff that should squash what little softness is left in his world. His hands have had to do so many destructive things in the past fifteen years that they feel too coarse to touch you. 

He turns his head towards the sky and closes his eyes, letting the sound of your voice wash over him like he wants it to for the rest of his life. There’s a part of him that’s afraid of you, afraid that he’s not made for this life with you, that he doesn’t know how to handle something so precious without breaking it. The way you treat the world around you with such reverence, such care, is foreign to him. He was used to being cold and logical back in Colombia, used to enduring. But here, in the Lone Star State with you, he finds himself wanting to be gentle, wanting to learn whatever he can from you. The love of his life. 

“Mhm,” he replies with the tiniest twitch of the corners of his mouth as you still haven’t figured out that he isn’t really listening. Not when your voice is accompanied by the sound of a breeze continuously creating waves in the grass that is tickling his arms, almost tricking him into thinking he is by the ocean. 

But then he feels it. It’s a sudden, light tickle on his nose that makes him open his eyes in slight surprise. There’s a small bee perched on the tip of his nose, its glasslike wings buzzing gently as it searches for pollen. Instinctively, he lifts his hand and gets ready to swat it away; he’s always been quick to react, quick to defend himself from anything that might harm him, even moreso during his time in Colombia. However, as his hand twitches mid-air, you notice, and your laughter is like music being carried through the air.

“Hold still,” you whisper as you lean over him, your face so close and your hand on his chest so he can feel the warmth of your palm as he sees your grin. With a gentler touch than what you even handle him with, you coax the bee onto your hand, lifting it away and letting it fly off again. Javier watches quietly in awe of his future wife.

“You don’t have to be so scared,” you say, smiling at him, “Not everything that approaches you is out to hurt you. Perhaps he just wanted to say hello.” 

Your words hang in the air, weighing nothing yet feeling heavy. Javier feels a tug in his chest like you’ve grabbed at the part of him that harbors hate for himself and has festered for too long. You’ve just pulled it loose inside him. He knows you’re not just talking about the bee. He hears the undertone, the suggestion that maybe he doesn’t always have to be on guard, doesn’t always have to assume the worst as he has done for so long. 

He looks at you and he wonders if you’re talking about yourself, too. If you’re telling him that you’re not here to hurt him, that your presence in his life isn’t a threat. He doesn’t know why he thought that twosomeness was not for him. Here you are and he doesn’t need anything more because you soften the edges of the world around him. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs and slides his arm beneath your body so he can snake it around your waist. His palm lays flat against the small of your back as he pulls you in, his heart still pounding against his rib cage when you are this close just five months after your first meeting. Five months since he saw you for the first time and realized that you might be different. Five months since you turned his world upside down. 

You curl your fingers on his chest and let yourself be drawn close, lowering your head until he can feel your breath against his face. You block out the sun, smiling fondly at him as if he is not at all rough and calloused. 

It is what makes him close the gap between you and kiss you on the mouth. It’s slow and unhurried, unlike many other kisses he has given you when the two of you have been alone. He pulls back to see your eyes fluttering open again. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asks himself out loud. The sun is around you like a halo, shining on your hair and making your skin glow. He wants everything with you. Everything that he never thought he wanted to have but also everything he never thought he could have.

“Doesn’t matter if you have done anything to deserve me. Do you want me?” You ask and the question floors him. He doesn’t need to think about it or weigh his options and words. He knows his answer. Yes.

“Para siempre (forever),” he says. You smile. It seems like that was the perfect answer. 

“Then that’s all that matters,” you reply and roll onto your back with a content sigh, laying in the nook of his arm while the sun shines on the both of you. He could fall asleep with you, let a whole hive of bees land on him one by one to greet him.

Javier feels a calm wash over him. Maybe this - him and you - isn’t bad just because he feels like he isn’t enough for your kind being. Maybe it is exactly right because it is something you both want. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[headspace-hotel]

i was outside for a couple hours today looking and watching the birds and looking at every plant and the huge variety of bugs on the plants

When you consider from the tiny, bug sized perspective of a bug, each species of plant...is its own biome

Each species of plant is food for its own specialist species of bugs that can eat ONLY that plant, (or it's close relatives, sometimes) and cannot eat anything else (E.g. Monarch butterflies with Milkweeds)

You can see this with aphids. Aphids that suck juices of Goldenrod are red, aphids of milkweed are yellowish orange, and aphids of curly dock are slate gray

Each species of plant has its own chemicals that protect it from being eaten by bugs that are susceptible, taking away competition for bugs that don't mind the chemicals

THEREFORE...each species of plant has its own characteristic fauna

And beyond that

Each species of plant has its own "terrain" (the structure of the stems and leaves and how they are positioned, what kinds of surfaces they provide to sit on or hide under)

Flowering plants each have their own nectar and pollen and their flowers are structured and colored differently to be specialized for the favored pollinator. (I wish I was a bee so I could taste how different each flower's nectar is...)

Each species of plant's leaves shade against the sun differently, each hairy or smooth stem captures drops of dew differently, and the shapes of leaves and stems and how they branch provides different environments that could be easy or difficult to navigate with wings or with legs.

I notice things I never would have read in books. I notice beetles and earwigs tucking themselves between leaves or in immature flower heads waiting for nighttime. I notice tiny spiders making webs in the underside of a folded leaf. I see ants crawling along the stems up to the flowers to drink nectar, and wonder how a tiny ant brain navigates the complicated 3D maze of stems and leaves.

It would be so time consuming to walk all the way up the stem of each and every flower, so the best plants for ants must be plants where the flowers touch and the ants can walk from one flower to the other. I saw ants on Yarrow and Lilac, and both of those plants are like that, with bunches of flowers close together.

Some bugs like to hang out underneath leaves, others on stems, still others beneath petals...bugs are living entire lives, working and eating and resting and having sex and caring for their young, and they need places to do these things. And when you're as small as a bug a plant is like a huge skyscraper or a whole neighborhood, but each species of plant would have different features and amenities.

So by introducing a greater diversity of plants, it allows for FAR more bugs, which explains the huge increase in bugs i've been seeing, which explains the huge increase in birds.

[stevie-petey]

mayhaps we could see steve’s pov of one of the times he saw reader and jon interacting at her job and what he thought of their interactions/intimacy with each other and his slight jealousy that he thinks comes from lack of people in his life but is actually his crush that he doesn’t realize he has yet

god i love the way yall think ,,, so so so excited to do this one <3

enjoy !

"god i love you, bee!" you press a loud and obnoxious kiss against jonathans cheek, and he lets out a laugh as his face goes red.

"of course ya do, bug."

steve watches from across the store. he'd been sent to go and retrieve some more books and comics for you to take home while you clean up around the shop. jonathan has just walked in to pick you up, and from the bag in his hand the way you reacted, steve figures that jonathan surprised you with something.

you open the bag and pull out a carton of ice cream and gasp. "howd you know ive been craving this all week?"

jonathan shrugs, as if its nothing, but steve can see the proudness thats hidden behind the nonchalance. "im a mind reader."

"you really are." you open the carton and smell the ice cream, letting out a dramatic sigh. "ugh, i could kiss you again."

steve continues to watch the two of you, his hand, which had been skimming one of the bookshelves, stops.

"as much as i love your weirdly wet cheek kisses, i think i'll pass."

you stick your tongue out at jonathan and giggle. he sticks his right back out at you and its so easy between the two of you.

bug and bee. the names slip from your mouths freely, a certain warmth emanates from you two. steve wonders what that must feel like, loving and being loved so easily.

hes never had that before, but the way you light up whenever jonathan walks into the room makes steve wish he had something like that, too.

with nancy, its not as easy as it seems to be with you and jonathan. steve thinks that maybe its just something unique to you two, everyone knows how long youve been friends and how eventually youll marry each other.

steve supposes he just needs more time with nancy, or maybe he needs to try a little harder, be a little better at this whole boyfriend thing.

lost in thought, steve doesnt see you approach until you wave a hand in front of his face. "hello? you alive in there, steve?"

"sorry, got uh..." he looks at the book his hand has landed on. "was just curious about the shining."

you frown. "you hate scary things."

"right," he shakes his head. "uh, so whats up?"

"jonathans here, im clocking out. wanted to say goodbye."

steve looks past your shoulder and sees jonathan waiting by the door. hes holding your carton of ice cream and is watching him with you. steve can see the trust in his eyes, the fondness of knowing youll return to his side in just a moment.

something twists in steves chest.

"i saw that cheek kiss you gave jonathan," steve teases, which you blush at. then, he taps his own cheek. "lay it on, right here."

you snort. "yeah, no."

steve laughs, but his chest twists again. "oh, guess we arent there yet-"

suddenly steve has your arms thrown around him and he stumbles back a bit. "or we can do this. this works."

"goodbye, steve." you give him one last squeeze, and then pull away far too soon for steves liking.

"bye, y/n."

you smile and wave, grabbing the books steve has found for you, and then walk back over to jonathans side, who surprises steve by also waving at him. steve waves back at you both, a small smile on his face. he lingers in the bookstore for a few moments afterwards.

steve can still smell your perfume on him long after he returns home that night.

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“Bradley Bradshaw, #86, five-minute major for fighting.” You let out an audible groan as you watch the ref lead Bradley off the ice into the penalty box. Bugs gives you a pained smile as she nudges your shoulder with hers even as you can feel the rage radiating from Cyclone. Bradley’s got drying blood in his mustache from where he took a retaliatory hit from the Florida player after practically throwing him into the boards. Bradley’s been avoiding you the tiff in your office. Clearly, he hasn’t spent the time considering your words since he’s taken the first opportunity possible to ignore your advice. When the line changes you make eye contact with Jake as he swings over the boards, grabbing his water bottle. You watch as he takes a drink, his mouth set in a thin line that has nothing to do with the current 5-2 score in the Dogfighters’s favor, and everything to do with his alternate captain.

You know this has to be hard on Jake too. Even though he was spared Cyclone’s screaming session the other day, you could tell he was aware of the problems and risks that Bradley was presenting. Jake’s the team captain and Bradley is one of his guys, which makes him his responsibility. The biggest problem, however, is that Bradley had been partially right when you argued the other day. Hockey’s a contact sport and fighting is a part of the rules as well as the culture, and it’s hard to argue with the results given that Bradley is currently the third-highest goal scorer on the team.

After finishing his drink, Jake turns on the bench to face you and Bugs, his green eyes hard. “We need to talk.” You and Bugs give him firm nods before he turns back to the game. It seems Cyclone is too busy glaring daggers at the penalty box to notice your exchange. You sigh, as you realize just how much longer your night has gotten.

~~~~~

You just manage to wedge your tiny Bug in the driveway next to Javy’s Landrover. The way he’s parked is the equivalent of manspreading across the space that could easily hold two or maybe even three cars on a good day. You growl in frustration as you do your damnedest not to slam the door in frustration as you get out to survey his handiwork. Your car is a pastel pink convertible bug and it looks comical parked next to the giant SUV, but you sigh and lock it before heading up the short walk to Jake’s front door. The seaside home with beach access was tucked cozily into a sleepy suburban neighborhood. It's not what you’d expect from a bachelor NHL player but the more you’ve gotten to know Jake, the more it makes sense. The main is painfully domestic. This is affirmed by the sight you’re treated to when you open the door that’s been left open in anticipation of your arrival. Jake is at the stove, making pancakes despite the fact that the sun has long since set outside. Bugs and Javy are seated across the counter from him, already digging into their plates.

“Hey, Zam! Thanks for coming!” Jake calls, offering you a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Congrats on the win!” You answer, dragging a chair from the dining room up next to the counter since there are only two stools. Bugs elbows Javy and he offers you his stool, taking the chair instead and somehow still looking comfortable at the raised countertop. You give Bugs an appreciative look before sliding Javy’s plate over to him and taking a seat.

You fix Jake with a look. “So, what are we going to do about Bradshaw, because I know Cyclone is just ITCHING to fire me over it.” Bugs stiffens next to you and you turn to look at her bewildered expression.

“He can’t fire YOU because of BRADLEY’S behavior! How is that even your fault?!”

“His behavior isn’t, but how the press spins it? That absolutely is. Sports outlets are calling him dangerous and a loose canon. It’s reflecting poorly on the team, not to mention Dare’s and Mav’s leadership, and of course Cyclone’s management.” You shrug as Jake hands you a plate piled high with pancakes.

“You’re not his babysitter though!” She exclaims and you swallow a mouthful of pancake, gesturing at Jake.

“Correct, that’s your man’s problem.” Jake scowls as he flips a pancake. You just raise an eyebrow at him and he growls.

“Look I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow, alright?”

“Fhank hou!” You chirp brightly through a mouthful of pancake and he rolls his eyes. “Love you, Jake!” You flash a hand heart at him as you go for another bite.

“Love you too, Zam,” he says with a rueful smile and Bugs giggles next to you.

“What about me?” You turn to Javy, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“What about you?”

“Do you love me?” He grins wolfishly at you.

“Well now, Javy, I know better than to love you, I’m not trying to catch anything.” You say dryly.

“Like feelings?” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

“Like chlamydia.” You respond coldly and Bugs chokes on her pancakes beside you as Jake bellows a laugh.

~~~~~

The next morning you’re already elbow-deep in damage control over Bradley’s behavior last night which ended with him getting raucously drunk at a dive bar, when Mickey comes into your office, wordlessly placing a pink can of Monster on your desk. Your hands are instantly off the keyboard and wrapped possessively around the can as you grasp it tightly, cracking the tab in record time to take a long sip.

“Marry me,” you groan as you come up for air.

He laughs, shaking his head. “I told you Zam, if I still haven’t found a trophy wife by the age of forty, the job’s yours.”

“Jokes on you, Mickey, you’d rather be a trophy husband than have a trophy wife.”

“What can I say? I’m a feminist at heart.” You snort, ignoring the way the carbonation burns your nose as he grins, tossing himself into the chair across from your desk.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere?” You ask with no bite, a matching grin gracing your lips as you turn back to the email you’re sending, occasionally bringing the pink can to your lips. He shrugs, settling further into the chair.

“We’re doing individual conditioning for the rest of the morning, I needed a break.” You nod, typing away at your keyboard. The two of you sit in comfortable silence as you finish the email and finally turn back to him.

“Mick, I need a favor.” You slump, resting your cheek against the cool surface of your desk, regarding your best friend’s sideways face.

“Anything,” he says without hesitation.

“What’s the deal with Bradley?” You watch the storm clouds gather over his normally sunny disposition. Despite the tension that now lingers in his slumped form, his voice is light as he says, “No idea.” He shakes his head and you can see his jaw tightens. “That’s just the thing? He’s quiet, kind of a loner, but perfectly nice to everyone on the team. He doesn’t argue with anyone, hell, not even Javy!” He shoves an irritated hand through his hair, his eyes darting around as the tension in his shoulders seeps into his actions.

“So you have no idea why he’s acting out? He was never like this with the Flyers. All the research I’ve done indicates not a single incident that would explain his behavior, I’m drawing a blank here, and you know I never draw blanks when it comes to this stuff.” You’re about to turn and press your forehead against the desk next but you catch the flit of Mickey’s eyes and sit up instead, leaning across the desk to point an accusatory finger at him.

“You know something!” He grimaces and shakes his head but you shake yours back indignantly. “Mickey Garcia, I know you and you know something!” He shakes his head again, lips sealed and you let out a groan of frustration before you purse your lips tightly, sitting back, folding into yourself a little. “Mickey, my job depends on this, please.” Your voice is quieter now, vulnerable, and you hate being vulnerable but Mickey’s seen you at your lowest. He’s earned the right to see you like this.

He sighs, letting the tension run out of his body as he faces you. “Look, this isn’t anything, really, just something I’ve observed,”

“Mickey, I’ll take anything at this point.” He nods slowly, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I think there’s something going on between him and Mav.” He says slowly and you perk up at that.

“Him and Mav?” Mickey nods.

“Whenever Maverick corrects him or even just tries to suggest something to him, he gets standoffish and weird. I’ve noticed it a couple of times and I don’t know, it could just be a coincidence but he’s not like that with Dare.” He studies his hands as you turn this new information over in your head. “You seem to think that’s something.” He states when you haven’t said anything in a few minutes as you wrestle silently.

“Mav is Bradley’s godfather.” You say, finally. You need another head to help you think this out. You watch Mickey’s eyes widen as he absorbs the new information.

“Fuck, really?” You nod. “You think there’s something going on between them?” You shrug, shaking your head in confusion.

“That’s just the thing though? Maverick specifically asked to trade for Bradley when we were building and negotiating the roster.”

“Damn,” Mickey sits back, rubbing his jaw at the influx of new information.

“I’ll say.” You mutter and the two of you sit in silence a while longer, mulling over the mystery before you until Mickey finally has to leave you with your thoughts and caffeine.

~~~~~

A few nights later you’re wrapping things up after yet another late night. The arena is empty as you make your way to the parking garage, looking forward to going home and putting your feet up while some mindless TV show plays in the background. Of course, that’s not happening as you receive a series of text messages from the last person you want to hear from right now. Well, it’s not a message so much as an order. The first message is a link to a TMZ article posted thirty seconds ago. It’s chronicling the latest in Bradley’s drunken escapades at a dive bar not far from here. The second message makes you audibly groan. “Get him out of there. NOW.” You have half a mind to call Jake and tell him he’s up for babysitting duty but you know that’ll just cause more problems than it will solve. You’d rather leave him and Bugs out of Cyclone’s line of fire. They’ve suffered enough.

You groan again, listening to it bounce off the concrete walls back to you as you lean your head on the cool metal of your car, mourning the loss of your quiet night in. You’re hardly dressed for the bar in your pink suit but at least if the paparazzi are still hanging around they’ll recognize you immediately and back off. Resigned to your fate, you get into your car and put the name of the bar into the navigation.

~~~~~

You pull into the parking lot, glaring at the mass of cameras and reporters lining up outside the building waiting for their prey. Your instinct had been right and as much as you wish you were at home right now, you have to thank Cyclone for calling you. This had the potential to be a dumpster fire if Bradley was left to his own drunken devices. You catch sight of Bradley’s obnoxiously bright blue Ford Bronco in the parking lot and you make a mental note to suggest that he find a less conspicuous mode of transportation if he’s going to insist on self-destructing in public. You take a moment to breathe and check that your ponytail is still flawless as you exit the vehicle, locking it behind you before squaring your shoulders and marching up to the pavement in front of the dive bar, right in front of the cameras.

“Alright people, let’s move, show’s over.” You scan the crowd that’s making no effort to clear out whatsoever. “Anthony! Andrea! Mason! Let’s GO!” You clap your hands once, the crack of skin on skin deafening on the street. You notice the three paparazzi you’d just called out by name start to squirm uncomfortably. It pays to know the enemy by name, they respond much better to threats that way. “Nathan! Louise! Gary! I can do this all night and still have time to call your lawyers the minute the clock strikes nine, let’s get a move on, shall we?” That works and you see the crowd start to move.

You wait, hands on your hips until the last of them disappears into the balmy San Diego night before hauling open the door to the dive bar that’s been painted black to keep out the light and coincidentally also the cameras. The bar is cast in red light from the numerous neon signs that litter the walls advertising various beer brands. Your eyes adjust to the light as your ears sort through the music crackling out of the jukebox in a corner, the murmured conversation of regular customers, and finally settle on the raised voices in the back of the bar. The sound of skin hitting skin swallows up the sound of your heels peeling off the sticky floor as you get closer to the commotion. Bradley’s standing at a pool table, the cue stick looking almost comically small in his huge hands. His shoulders are tense as is his jaw. There’s the beginning of a bruise coloring the edge of said jaw and his lip is split, dried blood smeared on his chin. His eyes are hazy and unfocused from the alcohol he’s clearly been consuming. There are three guys surrounding him who look worse for wear even as they leer at the much larger man.

“Alright boys, we’re done here.” You snip, hands on your hips as the three guys turn to face you. You watch Bradley’s head turn to unsuccessfully focus on you.

“And who do you think you are, Missy?” One of the guys scoffs as he gives you a once-over.

“His PR rep, so unless you’d like this to get a whole lot uglier in the legal department, I’d get out of here if I were you.” You watch their eyes widen in surprise even if some of them look suspicious. “Bradshaw, let’s go.” You jerk your chin at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“Fuck off, Honey, this isn’t your business.” Bradley glared at you and you could have laughed if you weren’t so pissed off. “Come on boys, let’s finish this.” The men look warily between the two of you and slowly start to back off, clearly taking your threat of legal action seriously. Bradley, however, is having none of this and you move into his path before you can think it through. Bradley’s fist that’s aiming for the man closest to him collides with your jaw and you go down hard, spared from a sticky collision with the floor by the man Bradley was aiming for. Your head is spinning with the force of the blow and you’re very aware of why Bradley’s defenseman because there’s some serious force behind his punch even inebriated. The older man who caught you helps you stand shakily and you blink to try and clear your vision as he asks if you’re alright. You manage a nod, waving him off as you straighten, glaring at Bradley who’s staring at you, bewildered.

“BRADSHAW. OUTSIDE. NOW.” Thankfully, he’s smart enough to drop the pool cue and start heading towards the exit. You march after him, still shaken up from the hit that’s definitely going to leave a nasty bruise. You make a stop at the bar, stopping Bradley from getting too far with a death grip on his bicep that’s too large for its own good. You close out his tab and the bartender gives you a sympathetic look that tells you she’d been watching your little altercation as she passes you a ziploc of ice and points you two towards a side exit and you give her a tired thanks before dragging Bradley behind you. The night air is as sticky as the floor of that bar and you grimace as stray hairs stick to your jaw that’s damp from the makeshift ice pack you’re cradling to it with one hand while you drag Bradley towards your car with the other. You pin the ice pack between your shoulder and chin while you fish your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the car and practically throwing Bradley at the passenger side. “Get in, Bradshaw, and if you throw up in my car I swear to god I’ll kill you myself.” Bradley drapes himself over the top of the car and if you weren’t so damn tired you’d muster up the energy to laugh at how easily he covers the width of it, the man truly is huge.

“There’s no way I’m gonna fit.” You suppress a groan at Bradley’s words.

“Shut up and get in the damn car, Bradshaw.” You put your hand on your hips, wondering exactly how much trouble you’d get in if you just left him here.

“S’not a car.” His brown eyebrows pinch together in imitation of great focus even as his words are slurred, exhibiting exactly how much he’s had to drink. A guy his size doesn’t go down without a fight, not to mention that he smells like a distillery. Your feet hurt. You should be home, in your pajamas with your feet up. Instead, you’re still in your work clothes in a shady parking lot outside a dive bar attempting to wrangle a drunk hockey player into your car so you can take him home. Your patience was already paper thin when you got here, now it’s nonexistent.

“Bradshaw. Car. Now.” You snap. He gives you a dubious look as he yanks roughly on the passenger side door and maybe he has a point because you watch as he gracelessly smacks his obnoxiously large head on the bottom of the canopy that forms the doorframe. You can’t help the bubble of deranged laughter that escapes your mouth. You’re exhausted and seeing Bradley Bradshaw get a little comeuppance for the trouble that he insists on causing you is karma at its finest.

He’s groaning and attempting to fold himself into your bright pink bug which would probably be a tall order when he’s sober, but drunk? It’s an impossible task. You sigh and get into the car, turning it on before slamming the button to retract the canopy. Thankfully, it’s a beautiful night in San Diego as you pull out of the parking lot, the cool air whipping your ponytail around. You glance at the man next to you to see that despite being crammed into the passenger seat like a trick snake in a can, he’s fallen asleep, one cheek smashed against the window, a thin line of drool escaping a corner of his mouth. You chuckle to yourself, and if you pause to take a photo for later at the next streetlight, he’s none the wiser.

~~~~~

Halfway back to your apartment, you realize you have no idea where Bradley lives and you groan, making a turn that’ll take you back to the arena. When you pull into the long-empty parking garage, you lean your head against the steering wheel, praying for patience you’re not sure you still possess after the night you’ve had. Bradley stirs now that the car has stopped moving, blinking against the harsh lights of the parking garage.

“Where are we?” He groans, covering his eyes and you turn to glare at him.

“Work. I don’t know where you live.” He grumbles a low sound, before spitting out an address that you quickly enter into your navigation, scoffing at the luxury apartment complex that it belongs to as you put the car back into drive. Bradley drops his hand as you pull back out into the night air, letting it rest out of the window that he’s rolled down.

Since he’s awake and you’re not in the mood to beat around the bush you casually ask, “What’s the deal with you and Maverick?” You’ve been thinking about it ever since Mickey mentioned it to you. If Bradley and Mav are having issues, you need to talk to Mav about it. Bradley’s quiet, his attention focussed out the window, the breeze whipping his sandy brown curls into a frenzy that’ll be a bitch to tame in the morning. You see the hand in his lap curl into a fist, however, and you swallow, hoping he’s drunk enough to let an answer slip.

“Maverick’s the reason I got traded.” His voice is quiet and the slight slur is almost lost to the wind and sounds of the night but you catch it.

“I know, he asked for you specifically. It was sweet.” You say, prodding gently, fishing for anything he’s willing to give you. Bradley snorts and you turn slightly to see his fist is even tighter and his jaw is set.

“Sweet? Considering I’ve seen him once in my life before now, at my mom’s fucking funeral? I wouldn’t call it sweet.” Your heart lurches. You knew both of Bradley’s parents were dead but you’d assumed he and Mav were close as a byproduct but this was news to you.

You curse the appearance of Bradley’s apartment complex coming into view, desperate to get more information out of him as you pull into the driveway. A doorman rushes over as Bradley opens his door and all but tumbles out of the car like water out of a dam.

“Mr. Bradshaw, sir!” The older man exclaims as he wrestles Bradley to his feet with a surprising amount of strength for his age. “You’ve had too much to drink again, Mr. Bradshaw.” He chastises gently as you come around the car to try and help as he waves you off. “I hope you’re not giving your pretty lady any trouble.” You give him a tired smile before shaking your head.

“Oh I’m not his pretty anything, we work together.” The man nods, giving you a smile.

“Alright then miss, I’ll take him from here, don’t you worry about him.” You glance at his name tag.

“Thank you, Tony.” He gives you another bright smile and waves you off with his free hand.

“You get home safe, miss!” He calls back to you as you get back into your car, watching him lead the much taller drunk hockey player into the building like this is every night for him. Well, it probably is. You turn over Bradley’s revelation in your mind as you drive yourself home to your waiting bed, exhaustion setting in along with the throbbing in your jaw.

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Ficlets (Day 4)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Four | March 29th | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Prompt: Trust Issues | Words: 350 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Natasha and Steve friendship

“How about a friend?” Steve says, on the New Jersey Turnpike, three hours into a road trip, far too many hours into this far too long day. 

It's  an interesting question. 

Steve's always an interesting guy.

It's an intellectually fascinating thing talk to a man who woke up and stepped into the 21st century. But Steve's also —

He's an interesting guy. 

Unexpected. 

Natasha's still tying to decide what to do with that. 

There's an expression: Never meet your heroes. Natasha's never had the luxury of heroes, not really. But Steve? Steve is certainly a hero. One in a different way, even, one that feels bigger, than other people Natasha knows. She supposes beeing an subject in history books and a current news story will do that for a person's legend. 

And people say never meet your heroes. Because they might just be unexpected in a way that shatters the pedestal you put them on and leaves you crushed under the pieces. 

But the ways Steve's unexpected feel like something else altogether. 

(And Natasha's never had the luxury of heroes.) 

“There’s a chance you’re in the wrong business, Rogers,” Natasha says, shaking her head. 

(She's rarely had the luxury of friends.) 

“Well.” Steve catches her eye in he rearview mirror. He pauses, and then grins at her. "Right now we're fugitives — from our employer. So, yeah, maybe I am."

"Fair point." Natasha smirks, genuinely amused. "You enjoying it? Being a fugitive?"

Those sorts of jokes from Steve always are unexpected.

Natasha thinks this wohle situation feels like some sort of absurdist humor. A dark comedy. A punchline about Captain America and a former KGB agent laughing on road trip. 

"You know, I think I almost am," Steve says. He's still smiling a little.  

"Yeah." Natasha says, studying his face. "You're actually terrible at playing by the rules, huh?"

"I have been told that before."  Steve shrugs a shoulder. 

“Interesting character trait for America’s most famous soldier,” Natasha points out.  

Steve laughs. 

He's an interesting guy. 

Unexpected. 

Natasha's still deciding what to do with it. 

(She's rarely had the luxury of friends.)

🎆Three | March 28th | Theme: SHIELD | Prompt: Surprise Visitor | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | But: very brief Steve/OC (sort of), and, I guess, privacy invasion via audio recording? I don’t know how to tag that. It’s canon that Steve’s DC apartment was bugged. So?

🎆Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

(Ficlets Tumblr-exclusive until all are complete.)