#I feel cheated out of ingredients | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kteezy997 · 4 months

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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.

Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!

As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.

It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.

You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.

These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.

.....

Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.

With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.

Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.

"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"

"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."

"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.

"No, I don't mind at all, sir."

Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."

"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.

“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”

“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.

“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.

He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.

You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.

“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”

Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”

He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.

“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”

“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”

“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”

“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.

You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.

You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.

“Here you are, sir.”

“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.

“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.

You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.

“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"

“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.

“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.

You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.

He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”

“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”

“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”

He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”

You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.

“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”

“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”

“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.

Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.

He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”

“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.

A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.

He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”

“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”

You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.

“Are you alright, y/n?”

“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.

Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.

You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.

"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.

Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.

You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."

He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.

Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.

"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.

He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.

He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.

"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"

"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.

"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.

You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."

"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.

You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.

"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.

"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."

"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."

Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.

The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.

Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."

"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."

He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.

"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.

Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.

"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.

You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."

He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."

He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.

"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.

"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.

The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"

"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.

"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.

Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."

"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.

With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.

You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.

You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

@chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothee x reader

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punkshort · 4 months

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i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

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He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

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hemmingsleclerc · 2 months

Note

Reader and olivia celebrating max for Father’s Day(olivia and reader making him a cake and imagining little livie make some drawings for him )😍😍 and some instagram posts

we love maxie and liv 🥲💗

summary: father's day with liv

Father's Day

It was a sunny Father's Day morning and Max woke up to the delicious aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. As he rubbed his eyes and stretched, he couldn't help but smile. Today was a special day and he had a feeling that it would be full of surprises.

As he headed to the kitchen, he was greeted by his wife, Y/N, and adorable daughter, Olivia, busy preparing something on the stove. Olivia's eyes shone with excitement when she saw her father enter the room and ran over to him ready to give him a huge hug.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" Olivia exclaimed, her face beaming with joy.

Max smiled and leaned in to give her a hug. "Thank you, princess. What's all this?" he asked, pointing to the variety of ingredients spread out on the kitchen counter.

"We made you a special breakfast," Y/N interjected, flashing a warm smile. "Your favorite: pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice."

Max's heart filled with warmth as he watched his girls work together in the kitchen. Olivia, wearing her little apron, carefully flipped the pancakes while Y/n expertly poured the orange juice into a glass.

''Papa, go back to bed, you're supposed to have woken up later! It's a surprise breakfast in bed! Go, go''

Once everything was ready, Olivia carefully carried a tray laden with breakfast delights to her parents' room. Max couldn't help but feel a surge of love for his family. He sat on the bed as Olivia proudly presented the tray, and a decorated handmade card in her hand.

"Daddy, this is for you!" Olivia exclaimed, handing him the card.

Max opened it and found a beautiful drawing of him in his racing car, accompanied by another where it was now a drawing of him dressed as a superhero along with two more drawings on the side, they were of Olivia and Y/N made with different colored crayons (and lets not forget about the cats) next to a large phrase in capital letters that said "the best papa in the entire world"

Max, being the sensitive person that he is, ended up hugging his little girl tightly while letting a few tears escape.

"Thank you, my little angel," Max said, his voice filled with emotion. "This is the best gift ever, in fact, I'll frame it."

After saying that, little Liv's eyes shone with excitement when she saw that her dad liked her gift.

But the surprises didn't end there. Later that day, after a quiet family afternoon, Max found himself back in the kitchen, where Y/N and Olivia were talking about something.

When Max walked in, he was greeted by a chorus of "Happy Father's Day!" and the sight of a beautifully decorated cake on the table. Olivia and Y/N were proud of their creation: a vanilla cake decorated with cherries.

"You two really know how to make a guy feel special," he said, pulling his wife and daughter into a group hug.

''Daddy, before this day ends, I have one last surprise for you, wait here and close your eyes, no cheating !''

''Another one?''

Max listened to what his daughter had asked him, then he waited with his eyes closed for some sign so that he could open them, but when he did, he was not expecting that. In front of him, Liv was wearing a miniature suit exactly like his, along with a small helmet while her daughter wore it with a proud smile. ''I'm like you daddy! Do you like it?''

Max ran to pick up his daughter in his arms and spin her around in the air, laughing happily. ''It looks much better on you than it does on my sweetheart, wait, stand there, I want to take some photos of you.'' And so, Max spent the last of the day doing a photo session with his daughter in that suit that replicated his.

maxverstappen1

Liked by yn.ln, lewishamilton, and 2,368,583 others

maxverstappen1 Celebrating the greatest (and best) title I've ever been given, ''dad''. Thanks to this little bundle of joy who made me a father (and to my beautiful wife who created her). Happy Father's Day to all the amazing dads out there 🙌❤️

username max being a girl dad makes sm sense to me 🥲

yn.ln best father in the world! 💕

liked by author

landonorris Happy father's day dad! answer my calls :(

yn.ln

Liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,583,184 others

yn.ln Happy Father's Day to this incredible man who lights up our world with so so much love and joy! Here's to you, my love, on this special day, we love you so very much- liv and y/n 💗💗💗💗

oscarpiastri mom, dad is not responding my messages congratulating him, say something to him.....

maxverstappen1 love you ❤️

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username pls adopt me y/n, I'll be the pet if u want

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gurugirl · 8 months

Text

Owned

ceo sugar daddy!harry x reader - a check-in for The Arrangement

Summary: Based loosely on this request. Harry brings Y/n to his home and Romy returns at a very bad time.

A/n: This story takes place before Harry and Romy have split. A sort of back-in-time check-in from when Harry & Y/n are still keeping everything on the down low.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, angst, spit/saliva, being overheard having sex

Word Count: 6,220

The Arrangement Masterlist

She was still getting used to the arrangement she had with Harry. Seeing him in the office Monday through Friday and needing to keep everything on the down low was difficult.

And when Romy came into the office that afternoon, Y/n caught sight of her with Harry in his office as he’d left the door open. Their discussion was heated, or at least it appeared that way. As Romy was leaving she gave Y/n a look that felt like she knew something. It felt like somehow Romy knew the secret and the look was a warning.

But of course, Y/n was just being paranoid. The only way for Romy to know was if Harry had told her and she knew he wouldn’t have done that. Romy was aware he was seeing someone for his needs. She just had no idea it was Y/n.

That was just one example of how things were difficult. Because she was no good at lying. No good at hiding the feelings on her face.

Harry noticed the faraway look on Y/n’s when he walked past her desk. She seemed to be deep in thought about something. Normally when he walked by he was the one trying to keep a straight face and Y/n was a shy little purring kitten hoping for him to glance at her just once.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned over her desk and looked down at her.

Y/n was struck out of her thoughts when she heard Harry’s quiet voice.

“Oh! I was just thinking about something. Nothing’s wrong,” she blinked her eyes and then bit her lip to keep her mouth from grinning as wide as she wanted.

He’d done some very inappropriate things to her in private that made her insides melt and her muscles ache for days and yet she still couldn’t get over how giddy she felt when he spoke to her in the office.

“You sure?”

She nodded, “Yeah. I’m sure, sir.” She nodded.

“This is cute,” Harry spoke quietly as he let his eyes travel over her outfit before looking back up to her.

Her ears got warm and her heart pounded wildly at the compliment. Of course, she was wearing something he’d bought her. She loved the soft silk and wool fabric and the fit of the Magda Butrym dress.

“Uh… thank you, Mr. Styles.”

She watched him walk off in a confident stride as she sighed.

A text came an hour later after Harry had finished up a meeting he’d been in.

You’ll come back to my place with me tonight.

She blinked her eyes and grinned at the words for a moment before responding.

Yes, sir.

. . .

She’d been to his house before but not like this. Harry told her that Romy was gone for the night and he wanted company from Y/n. But he also wanted to have her in the bed he shared with Romy, though he kept that part to himself. It was kind of a sick fantasy but Romy was more and more withdrawn and Harry couldn’t stop from imagining his sweet girl spread out and dripping all over his marital bed. Felt kind of like a satisfying fuck you to his wife who he was growing sick of looking at.

Harry started dinner right away and Y/n immediately got to work helping him chop and pull ingredients from the fridge.

“What have you been eating lately? Looking a bit thin, Y/n,” Harry said as he pinched her bottom, the silk dress bunching under his forefinger and thumb.

She giggled and then shrugged with a grin, “I don’t know. Pop tarts. Turkey bacon, you know the kind that’s already cooked? Umm… those frozen Schwan’s dinners, I like the veggie lasagna one. Bananas?”

Harry sighed and put his hands on the back of Y/n’s hips, standing behind her, “I’m gonna need to start feeding you properly too aren’t I?” He kissed her temple, “First you need me to dress you and pay all your bills, then you need me to fuck you properly, and now you need me to feed you all your meals too? My poor little helpless thing. Needs Daddy for everything doesn’t she?”

Y/n closed her eyes and stopped cutting the garlic as she felt Harry’s warm lips travel down from her temple to her cheekbone, and the bottom of her chin as she nodded, “I… I mean… I guess maybe. But…”

“Shh, shh…” Harry shushed her, “Don’t overthink, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Y/n was squirmy when they sat at the dinner table to eat. Harry kept the conversation going as they ate but he could tell she was heated and starting to liquefy under his watchful gaze. He loved how pliant and open she got for him. He barely had to do a thing to get her squirming and needy for him.

When their plates were nearly emptied and Harry noticed Y/n’s blown-out pupils he chuckled lowly and got up from his seat, holding a hand out to her, “Up you get. Let’s take care of you. I can see you need me, baby.”

She didn’t know how he did it. No one had her like he did. She’d get shaky with excitement and need from nothing but a mere conversation with him. It was embarrassing. Pathetic. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. There was something about the way he looked at her. Like she was his dinner. His prey. Like he owned her. She loved it. She wanted to be owned by him.

Harry led her up to his bedroom and she went with him in silence. She wouldn’t protest about what she figured was coming once he closed the door and then began to unzip her dress from behind.

She liked the idea of doing it, there. In his bedroom. The one he shared with his wife. It made her feel powerful. Dirty, but powerful.

Harry kissed the top of her spine as he moved her hair to the side and her dress slid down her body and pooled onto the floor at her feet. She was already imagining the way his big cock would stretch her out and destroy her insides. She craved it.

“I like these too,” Harry spoke in a low seductive tone as he plucked at the lacy fabric of her panties.

She mewled at his touch and the way his lips found her neck. He was still standing behind her as he brought his hands up and cupped each breast in his palms. She’d gone sans a bra that day because the dress wouldn’t allow it. Maybe a bit risky for the office but Harry always told her not to worry about what others thought. If they were staring at her tits so hard they could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra that was on them and nothing to be ashamed of.

Suddenly he grabbed her hip and she felt the quick pop and then sting of his palm on her bottom. She gasped as he pushed her forward toward his bed, “Bend over.”

She did so quickly as she smushed her cheek into the mattress and felt the next swat to her other side. A few more spanks to each side as she bit her lip and moaned had him laughing darkly as he bent over her, “There we are. A good spanking for not feeding yourself properly.”

She was pulled up by her elbows and then turned to face him, “There’s that pretty face. Love this,” he put his thumb to the skin under her eye and wiped a tear that had broken free.

“Now, undress me.”

It was a normal part of their foreplay. Harry would have her undress him. Sometimes he’d keep most of his clothes on and just have his cock out so she could suck it or he could use it to fuck her, but most of the time he liked to be without clothes when it came down to it. Less messy that way.

Y/n began by unbuttoning his shirt and Harry watched her with a devilish smirk on his face. Once she’d gotten the last one undone he shrugged the material off himself and gestured for her to get to work on everything he had on below the waist.

Dropping to her knees she looked up at him and undid his belt then opened his pants up before pulling the nice fabric down his legs and to the floor. Harry kicked the pants off and watched as his girl pulled his briefs down slowly. He loved watching her face every time his cock was exposed to her.

She’d suck in a sharp breath and lick her lips and drag her pupils up and down his shaft and rove the deep pink tip with her gaze like he was a delicacy.

“You can kiss it if you want.”

She let out a sigh of relief and hastily ran her lips along his smooth skin and let her tongue lather him in saliva continuing to peek up at him as she went. He gently wound his fingers into her hair and began guiding her mouth downward toward his balls, “Kiss.”

With his cock hung heavy over her face and her hands politely in her lap, her lips pecked along his scrotum and she drooled over his sac as she closed her eyes. She worked her tongue on him slowly, making out with his balls as if she were kissing his lips and he groaned deeply. The girl was good. She was so good and he didn’t know what he was going to do with her. Romy could never give him what Y/n could.

Harry began to pant and Y/n grinned to herself as she kept smoothing her lips over his flesh, her pink tongue laving him with dampness.

“Fuck, little girl. That mouth is so good,” he pulled her hair to move her away from him. She wished she could stroke his cock and feel him in her hand but she knew she had to wait for his instruction to touch.

“Lie down on your back for me, ass at the edge of the bed,” Harry spoke as Y/n quickly stood and positioned herself at the edge of the bed per his instructions.

He pulled her little ruined panties down her legs and grinned at her, “A mess as always.”

Harry pushed her thighs toward her chest, knees pressing into her breasts when she felt the first flick of his tongue at the crease of her labia, just next to her pussy. Then to the other side, “Mmm… this cunt is never dry for me. Always such a treat,” the plunge of his fingers into her entrance had her moaning and grasping at the comforter tightly.

But when she felt his mouth finally slurping and kissing at her clit she whined loudly and let out a breathy wail. Harry laughed as he continued his task.

Long fingers pumping in and out and Harry’s skilled mouth pulling at her clit had her boiling and groaning. He kept her held down tight as she rocked her hips out of instinct. Her wet pussy being fingered and sucked was loud in the room.

“Daddy! Please!” She nearly shouted her words when he pulled his fingers from her and stood up with his cock in his palm.

“I’m just getting started with you sweet girl. Gonna fuck you and then we’re going clean up the kitchen, and then I’m gonna put that pretty leash on you. Maybe have your nipples clothes pinned while you wear a new gift I bought for your ass.”

“A new plug?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’ll look in it all day long,” he thumped his wide cock over her pussy, “Can’t wait to put it in you and see what you think. But right now, you ready for Daddy’s cock, angel?”

She barely even nodded before he was pinning her to the bed with his cock stuffed to the hilt inside of her.

He let out a pitiful moan when he finally felt her on him. It’d been almost a week since he’d last fucked her and he could hardly wait to be inside of her. It was why he couldn’t be bothered to clean up the kitchen before he brought her to his bedroom. He needed to take care of her and himself before cleaning up. He needed her.

Keeping her knees pressed into her chest with his hands holding the insides of her knees down he dragged himself in and out, pressing into her until she was being rocked upward from the force.

She smiled in relief and moaned at each drive of his cock, “Yes, Daddy! Yes…”

“Like it when I fuck you, baby? Like my cock slipping inside you deep?”

“Fuck yes! I love your cock, Daddy!”

She was his good girl. There was no question about that. Loved being told what to do, what to wear, what to say, when to get wet, and loved being fucked by his big cock. Loved choking on it. Loved being gagged and tied up, stuffed with toys.

Harry just wanted to get them off quickly because he’d been so hard up for her all day it hurt. Imagining just this. His cock inside of her, spreading her out, watching her pussy grip him and slather him in her arousal.

The sound of a door closing and then Romy calling out for Harry had him halting the movement of his hips, “Fuck,” he whispered his words as his chest heaved.

He had to think quickly. Obviously, Romy would know someone was there with him. The kitchen was a mess and Y/n’s nice purse was on the entryway table. Even though he wasn’t allowed to bring his “girlfriend” to their home he’d have to deal with the consequences of that with Romy. But she couldn’t know it was Y/n because that would be a whole other can of worms he didn’t want to open.

“Up. We need to get you to the guest room. I can’t have Romy seeing you.”

Y/n quickly hopped off the bed and pulled her dress from the floor to cover her naked body as Harry led her to the hallway and pointed to the door at the end, “There. Go inside and close the door.”

He pulled his pants up his legs just as Romy was walking into the bedroom, “Who’s here?”

She looked around the room and saw the panties on the floor next to his boxers and the way the bed was mussed from what they’d just been doing. It was clear what was going on.

“It’s the woman. From the service,” he lied with a shrug, “I thought you were gonna be out. I didn’t mean for you to–“

“You cooked her dinner? And brought her to our bedroom, Harry? Where is she?”

“I had her go into the other room. I don’t think you should have any contact with her. That’s part of what we agreed.”

“Your dick is even still hard, Jesus. Were you two just…” She shook her head and paced into the room, “And yeah, that was the agreement but you’ve brought her into our home and that was something we said you wouldn’t do. She could walk off with something expensive for all you know!”

“She won’t. I’m sorry. It was just… She made a house call. It was easier this way.”

“I bet it was. Couldn’t even be bothered to clean up the kitchen.”

“I was going to get to it after. Why are you home anyway?” “I missed the train. The next one’s coming in an hour so I figured I’d come home and grab a few things I meant to bring for the trip but realized I forgot. So I’ll be home for a bit. You gonna have her leave?” Romy raised a brow at Harry.

He was a little surprised she wasn’t angrier. He couldn’t understand why she was so calm. Yes, she seemed upset but not as upset as he thought she’d be.

“No… we weren’t done.” Harry clenched his jaw. It felt strange talking to his wife about this. He kept his eyes on her as she looked down at his erection covered by his pants. He cleared his throat and continued, “Plus I don’t want her feeling embarrassed and leaving right in front of you. I’ll wait til you're gone before I send her home.”

Romy nodded and looked behind her at the door to their bedroom. “Is she in there? The guest room?”

“Yes. Will you be upset if I go in there with her while you’re here?”

She scoffed and shook her head as she walked past Harry toward their closet, “Clearly didn’t get yourself off yet. Typical that’s all you can think about in this very moment. I mean what can I say, Harry? It’s not like you listen to me anyway. You and your need to dominate every situation. Go and do whatever. You will anyway.”

And that was true. Harry wasn’t one to take no for an answer for most things.

Shrugging his shoulders he started for the door but before he passed into the hallway he turned, not wanting Romy to have the last word, “Might want to go downstairs if you’re not interested in hearing us,” he smirked and then left the room. But before he got far he heard her respond, “Oh great. Love to listen in on mediocre sex and a woman faking an orgasm for money.”

Harry swallowed as she paused. That had pissed him off. Why did she feel the need to insult whomever he was fucking? He decided to leave it and not respond, continuing down the hall and walking into the large guest room where his lover was waiting, locking the door behind him.

She’d already slid her dress back on. She was sitting at the edge of the bed with a worried look on her face.

“Hey,” he sat down next to her and pulled her into his chest, “It’s okay. She’s not gonna bother us. She’ll be gone soon. I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s not your fault. Just scared me. I’m worried if she knows it’s me she’ll do something awful. I just don’t want any trouble.”

“You won’t have any trouble, baby. I’ll make sure of that.”

Harry began to pull at her dress, indicating he wanted it off. Y/n pulled back to look up at him, “What are you doing? Right now? With her here?”

Harry was unphased. Which wasn’t a surprise but Y/n thought for sure he’d wait until his wife left.

“She’s going to be here for another thirty minutes or so and I need you, bout to burst. Will it make you feel better if we’re quiet? Or would you rather wait?” His hands were bunching the material of her dress until her thighs were exposed. The way his warm palm and rings felt on her soft skin, slowly moving upward toward where she was still wet had her heart pounding.

“I… I don’t know. I want you to feel good but I don’t want any trouble.” She was torn. One part of her didn’t want to wait. She’d been on edge and he was so good inside of her, driving into her with the yummiest drag before they were interrupted. And she’d wet her dress with how much slick arousal she had stuck between her thighs, she was still reeling from his cock being inside of her not moments prior. But she didn’t want to do something that would hurt anyone’s feelings either.

“I told you there won’t be trouble. Do you trust me, Y/n?” Harry brought his large palm up to her neck and made her look up at him, his other hand gently slipping fingers through her labia.

“I trust you. Yes,” her puffy lips were parted as she kept her eyes on Harry’s. She loved how it felt when he had a hand around her neck but he was gentle in that moment. Using the gesture as a small reminder of his dominance over her. His ownership.

“Good girl,” he brought his lips down over hers as he pushed two fingers slowly inside of her aching cunt. “You’re my good girl aren’t you, Y/n?” Harry spoke against her lips as he began to fuck his long digits into her slowly.

She nodded, “Yes. I wanna be good for you.”

“I know you do,” he whispered as he continued kissing her between his words, “Let me take care of you. Be my good girl and pretend it’s just me and you. The only girl I care about right now is you.”

That’s what she wanted. To be a good girl for him. And if this is what made her a good girl, she’d forget Romy was in the house. To have his attention on her and not on Romy.

His lips were soft and his tongue pressed into hers as he released her neck and began to pull the dress down her arms until the top part was pooling at her waist and her tits were exposed.

Pushing her to lie down on her back, he kept his fingers inside of her as he dropped his mouth to a nipple causing her to gasp.

Harry grinned. He hoped she wouldn’t stay quiet. He wanted her little noises and hoped it irritated Romy. Hoped Romy could hear everything he was doing to Y/n. Things that he would never again to do his own wife. Was he bitter? Yes, perhaps. But he felt it was warranted. He didn’t like her insulting his sweet girl.

Harry looked down at Y/n with her silk dress bunched at her waist, her pussy and tits out as he fingered her and kneaded her tits.

When he felt he’d gotten her all worked up again, small moans and needy little glances, nearly begging him for more, he pulled his fingers from her and hastily removed his pants. He pushed her further into the bed and spread her legs apart, making her bend at the knees as he shifted between her legs.

“Please,” she whispered as she looked down at his hard cock in his hand.

“This is what you want? Yeah?” He positioned his thick crown to her entrance as she nodded.

“Needed Daddy’s cock so bad today, didn’t you, baby?” Harry spoke his words in stammered breaths as he began to push back into her where he belonged. The stress began to melt away the deeper he drove his cock.

Earlier in the day, when Romy had gone to the office, Harry didn’t even know she’d be there. He spotted her walking out of Sean’s office as he happened to be standing in the hallway talking to Jessica and spotted her.

He asked her what she was doing there, mostly just surprised to see her and her response was immediately defensive so he brought her to his office so they could discuss in private. She seemed angry with him and then told him she stopped by to remind him she was going out of town that evening with her sister. Something for which he did not need an in-person reminder.

He found the whole thing odd but most of all, her attitude had him heated. Their small spat in the office was overheard and he was stressed when she did finally leave. But he did have one bright spot through it all. His Y/n.

And having her underneath him as he strained his muscles and steadied himself above her while he gently fucked into her was exactly what he needed. It was just what she needed too.

Harry watched her pretty face contort and lips part and widen with each of his thrusts, “Fuck, baby. Who do you belong to?”

Her voice bubbled out softly, each word panted into the air, “Daddy… I’m yours, Daddy…” She wanted to hold onto him. Scratch her nails down his back and claim him for her own the way he always claimed her. She would never do it unless he told her but her fingertips dragged over the blanket imagining his skin under her nails.

Harry moaned and felt saliva pool on his tongue. His mouth was watering with how luscious she felt and the remnants of her arousal still in his mouth. He brought one hand to her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, “Open up wide sweet girl.”

Her mouth was already parted as she unhinged her jaw for him and jutted her pink tongue out for him.

Harry gathered his spit at the end of his tongue and opened his mouth, keeping his hips pasted to hers as he continued deeply thrusting into her. The wet drool from his tongue drizzled down into her mouth and over her tongue, slipping downward to her throat.

She closed her eyes and moaned loudly at the way it felt. She was his. He owned her. She would drink his come and his saliva happily forever if he wanted. Would crawl on her knees to him and let him spit into all her holes with a smile.

Harry watched as she kept her tongue out. Her eyes were squeezed closed and she began to quiver under him, “You’re mine, baby. My sweet girl. So dirty and so fucking hot. Swallow my spit into your tummy now. Show me you want to be mine.”

Her lips closed around the spit and she swallowed and licked her lips before opening her eyes up to see him looking down at her in awe. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. His cock inside of her, pushing deeper than he ever had, and the act of swallowing his saliva sealed it all for her. He wanted her for his own.

“I’m yours. I need to be yours forever. Are you mine too, Daddy?” She didn’t expect those words to come out but her heart and the hot, prickling lust in her belly had her speaking before she could even think.

Harry groaned and lowered his lips to hers. It was the most erotic and soft sex he’d had with Y/n yet. It made him feel like… he was in love. Made him realize, even more than he had before, that he wanted Y/n forever. Not just for a mistress and a fuck toy. But a human woman that he connected with on all levels and who matched his needs and desires in bed.

Disconnecting their wet lips he gasped at the way she clenched around him and pushed his nose to hers, “Fuck, my love. I’m yours. I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

Harry was trying to keep it down for Y/n’s sake. He knew she didn’t want Romy to hear what was happening in the bedroom. He would have preferred to have Romy hear it all. So she knew where she stood in comparison with his lover. Y/n was his girl. And he was sure he was falling in love with her.

“P…please can I touch your back? I want to feel you under my fingers…” she dared to ask because she couldn’t hold it back. She needed his skin under her hands and nails.

Harry grasped one of her hands and brought it up to his shoulder, “Fucking touch me all over baby. Go on…”

She felt his skin under her palm and brought her other hand up to feel his back. His broadness and the straining muscles in his back had her moaning loudly on accident but the moment she took the chance to dig her nails lightly into his skin and she heard him choke out a loud groan she knew that was permission for more. To leave traces of herself on his skin. A mark to show Romy who he really belonged.

And that thought had her rearranging her entire notion of having his wife overhear them. Now she wanted Romy to know. She felt possessive of him at that moment, her nails digging in harder and his groans growing louder with each inch she dragged her nails over his flesh.

“Just like that, Y/n, baby… Harder…” he was breathy and his words were tight. Harry couldn’t believe how it felt to have her nails on his skin. He hoped he bled and had deep marks left for days.

Suddenly a door slammed and Harry paused as he looked down at Y/n with a smirk, “Want you to scream my name when you come. Want her to hear the voice of one I belong to. Is that okay?” He rutted into her deeply and she moaned with a nod.

“Yes. I want her to hear now. And then she’ll see my marks on you. Because you’re mine, Daddy.”

Harry pressed his lips to hers and sucked in a breath through his nose to show his devotion and appreciation. The kiss was slow and wet as Harry kept himself stuffed into her, not moving an inch. He needed the moment to give his cock a break from the decadent feel of her pussy around him.

When he’d recovered enough that he knew he wouldn’t come immediately, he pushed himself up and looked into her eyes, “Shred my back up, Y/n. Want it to scar. Give it to me.”

She did as he said as he pulled out to his tip and slammed back into her, making the headboard pound into the wall loudly. With the feel of her nails digging into his skin, he repeated his motions, fucking into her hard but slow. Pulling out his heavy cock to his tip and driving into her with a thud.

Harry hissed at one particularly deep scratch and he sat up, feeling like that was sufficient, ready to hammer into her and make Y/n shout and yelp and come all while Romy listened.

“You ready, angel? Gonna fuck you so hard you see stars and squirt all over this bed.”

She dared to lift her fingers to his chest and scrape lightly as she nodded, “I need it so bad. I need you.”

Harry grinned and closed his eyes for a moment to feel her. To feel the emotions and the moment. Her fingers on his chest. But then he began to slip his cock back, pulling out completely. Looking down between them he placed his thumb on her clit and suddenly pummeled into her, repeated, punishing thrusts.

At first the voice was punched out of her throat with the way his hips hammered into hers. The sound in the room of his cock pushing into her pussy, his skin thudding into hers and the bed creaking wildly, the headboard smashing into the wall in time with his thrusts was the only noise.

Finally, she found her voice when they got into a rhythm, “Daddy! Yess!!” His thumb stroking her puffy clit sent her spiraling quickly. Her hips jolted and her back arched.

Harry watched her tits jiggle and her mouth and tongue move as curses and shouts of his name fell from her lungs. Her pretty voice and coos nearly had him tearing up but his cock was in heaven pounding into her pussy.

“Right there, baby? Yeah?” He gasped his words as she nodded. Her hands grasped the blankets tight as her body was being knocked upward with his devastating plunges.

“So good! Fuck! I want your come, Daddy! All inside of me. Fff….” Her neck strained as she tossed her head back. His thumb at her clit was sending her dangerously to the edge. And with the way his cock was punching into her she was going to squirt and she knew it. Only Harry could manipulate her body in this way.

“Oh shit… Fuck, baby…” Harry choked out his words as he saw her first gush and pulled his cock out so she could unleash.

Her body vibrated and she shouted loudly as she leaked and squirted. Tiny bits of spray coated his cock and his pubic hair and the bed below.

“Make it messy, baby. That’s right,” Harry continued flicking her clit as she trembled and loudly moaned unintelligible words of nonsense.

When she’d finally calmed Harry slammed back into her. He still needed to make her come. Squirting felt intense and yummy but coming was yummier, he knew.

“Squirted all over me baby. Claiming me with your scratches and your pretty pussy spraying me, huh? Gonna show my wife who I belong to?” His hips against hers were biting and he was so deep she felt him push into something new. A snap was felt inside of her and the intensity of the deepness of his cock had her spinning.

Harry was barely pulling out, only fucking into her now, holding her body to his as he rocked his hips into hers so deep.

“Yes! Only mine!” Was all she could manage to squeak out.

Even with Harry holding her close, the room was noisy with sex and the bed was unrelenting under them. And once Y/n had squirted and made a mess, the sloppy, gushy noises were even more evident. Everything was wet and slick and loud.

Harry was so close to coming. His balls tightened and Y/n’s eyes widened when her own orgasm began to finally unravel. Harry’s pelvis pushed into her clit with the constant motion of his hips rolling into hers.

“Open up again,” he could barely get his words out, “and ruin my back, baby.”

She opened her mouth and immediately ran her nails over his back. The pain of her scratching the spots she already had made Harry cough out a loud moan of praise, “Fucking good girl!”

He looked back down to her eyes with the sting on his bag and the saliva dripping down into her mouth slowly.

It was perfection. The moment was bliss and euphoria as he breathed out his words, “Swallow and come.”

She had already begun to come the moment his saliva hit her tongue and her fingers dug into his skin. It felt like they were joined as one. She swallowed his saliva before moaning, “Harry! Oh my god!! I need you, Daddy!” Her words were a garbled shout, surely to be heard throughout the house.

Harry rattled off his devotion and praise to his girl as he drained his come into her, “My good fucking baby. I need you so much. Fuck! Making me come so hard. Gonna take my come like a good little girl…”

The slowing of their movements had the room going quiet until only their breaths and panting were heard. Harry dipped in to kiss Y/n slowly and softly. With meaning and heart.

She was still pulsing and he was still throbbing as they licked and kissed. One last deep thrust upward had her squealing and laughing as Harry pushed himself up to look down at his girl with delight.

A knock to the door interrupted the sweet moment. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed as he brought his hands up to cup Y/n’s face lovingly, thumbs stroking her soft skin, “What?” He shouted toward the door.

“Fucking asshole is what,” the knob rattled as if she were trying to open the door and Harry lifted up further to face the door. He had locked it but he wouldn’t put it past Romy to try and get in to make some kind of point.

“Get the fuck out of her. I don’t want you near here.” Harry barked toward the door, ready to pull the blankets up over his lover to protect her if needed.

“This is MY house, Harry! You have whore in MY house! I want her out!”

Harry scoffed and shook his head as he looked down at Y/n. His cock was still inside of her. This was his baby. His love. He smiled at her softly, reassuringly before turning toward the door again to respond to Romy, “Were you listening like a pathetic bitch? That’s what good sex sounds like. I’m not fucking sending her away because you’re jealous. Leave already!”

“Loser asshole!” Romy stomped off and down the stairs. They could both hear her leaving the house.

Harry let out a breath and grinned down at Y/n. She was already smiling up at him with a pleased look on her face. She wasn’t upset like he thought she might be.

“You okay, baby?”

“So good, Daddy. She knows your mine now.”

Harry nodded and laughed, rubbing the tip of his nose to hers, “I’m so yours baby. All yours.”

When he finally pulled himself out of her he tilted her hips upward and thumbed her entrance to watch his come drip slowly before planting his mouth over her cunt and slurping his come into his mouth.

Leaning over her body and hovering his face over hers she opened her mouth obediently and he drooled his come into her mouth.

He watched her tongue capture his seed and he smiled, “In your tummy and in your pussy. All mine. Swallow.”

She gulped him down and grinned, “All yours, Daddy.”

Harry’s grin only widened as he spoke, “Yeah? You’re all mine. And you fucking own me.”

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cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months

Text

You... Cheater? - Side Characters

SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

CHARACTERS: Side Characters (Diavolo; Barbatos; Simeon & Solomon)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)

WORD COUNT: An average of 540 words per character.

👉 You… Cheater? - Demon Brothers

COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.

I hope you enjoy ;)

P.S.: I wrote Solomon's part after Lesson 17 of Nightbringer

CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom and he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

It's not normal for Diavolo to walk around alone. Barbatos would not allow that. That's why he escaped him and used a spell to disguise himself. When he sees “you”, he's more confused than shocked. But can't help but feel a sinking in his heart. He didn't feel the effect of a control spell, one who had forced you to do that. Which means that person was doing it of their own free will. And maybe that's why he didn't notice the shapeshifting spell.

He will not interrupt “you”, that would be impolite. But he still thinks something is wrong. He goes back to the Demon Lord's Castle and orders Barbatos to invite you to meet him. His butler didn't question and didn't dare scold him about shirking his duties for a walk, because Diavolo had his rare serious expression.

When you arrive, Barbatos leads you to the Garden, where diavolo is sitting in front of a table with tea and cookies. You assume it's just a little date, since you don't know what he saw. Barbatos pulls out the another chair for you to sit in while Diavolo greets you with a smile, and then he leaves the two of you alone, saying if you need anything just say the word.

He asks you how are you and how was your day. You say it was a pleasant, peaceful day. You spent the afternoon in Purgatory Hall, learning some recipes from Simeon and Luke and teaching them some recipes from your home. You guys did so many things that you even took the opportunity to bring some sweets for Diavolo and Barbatos.

He stares in amazement at your innocent smile and the box you hand him. “Have you been with them all afternoon?” He asks “You never went out to buy ingredients or something like that?” You find those questions a little strange, but answer honestly, that you went out with them at a time to buy some ingredients. “Did you ever leave their side?” No. Why? What's going on?

He laughs out loud in relief. He apologizes to you for making you so confused and tells you what he saw. He had invited you to talk about it and your relationship, but it seems that it was all a misunderstanding after all. And he's so relieved he can't even hide it well.

You are shocked by what he told you. And you tell him that you would never do such a thing, you'll never make out with a random person in the street. And that you love him. He brings his chair closer to yours, puts an arm around you and kisses your cheek passionately. “I know my love. I know very well the person I fell in love with. That's why I thought it was strange and I needed to see you and talk to you.”

What he doesn't tell you is that he's going to find the demons responsible for that and punish them. He is generally peaceful, but such disrespect cannot go unpunished.

Barbatos was probably doing some errands for Diavolo. When he sees “you”, he just freezes in shock. He tries to understand if you are bewitched, but you don't feel any control spell that forced you to do that. And somehow also misses the shapeshifting spell. But that doesn't stop him from thinking something was wrong.

He ends up just withdrawing to finish his task and return to the Demon Lord's Castle. Once in the palace, he asks Lord Diavolo for permission to meet with you, as there was a matter he needed to discuss with you. He gives him permission and Barbatos goes to the House of Lamentation.

Nothing seems strange, except maybe for Lucifer, which is the one that knows the behaviour of Barbatos best. He arrived as if nothing was wrong, asking if you were home and if he could speak to you. You were with the brothers in the room and he asked to speak with you alone. You ended up going to your room.

“I'm sorry for showing up so unannounced, but I'd like to discuss a subject that I just came across today.” he says and pauses to see your reaction, which is just a questioning one. “I ended up coming across you and that demon today on the street. I just wanted to clarify what happened.”

But you have no idea what he's talking about. He didn't seem to be talking about any of the brothers. “So would you mind tell me where you were this afternoon?” You were with Solomon. You had a sorcery lesson with him today. You spent most of the afternoon with him in Purgatory Hall. “Do you mind if I ask him if he confirms that?” You feel a little bad that he doesn't trust you, but you say you don't mind and he calls Solomon.

When the call ends and Barbatos hangs up, you see his shoulders relax. And you hear a little sigh. “I apologize profusely. My behaviour conveyed the idea that I don't trust you, but that's not the truth. I just...” he tries to find the right words but to no avail. “No, there is no excuse for my distrust. I’m sorry.” and then he tells you what he saw.

You look as shocked as when he saw “you”. “So I can assume that who I saw was someone pretending to be you.” He smiles at you “You have no need to worry about it, my dear. I will find those responsible for this and give them the most suitable punishment.” He was smiling, but the aura around him was frightening. This was the smile that even Diavolo and Lucifer feared.

Despite this you try to calm him down a little. He smiles at you, a genuine smile and softly kisses your cheek. You're right, he should know better than to distrust you.

Simeon was grocery shopping for Purgatory Hall when he saw "you". He freezes, like a deer that has seen a car's lights. As an angel, he shouldn't let the anger and jealousy he's feeling get to him so much. Then all those feelings go to his hands, or rather to his fists clenched so tightly it probably left fingernail marks in the palms of his hands. If he had been holding something, a plastic cup or a can, it would have exploded in his hand for sure.

He doesn't feel that “you” are in danger, that “you” were forced to do that. So he doesn't even approach “you”. He can't. He has to get out of there! What he’s feeling are very strong and bad feelings, which he cannot let consume him under any circumstances.

He goes back to Purgatory Hall and packs up the groceries. If someone crosses paths with him before he can go to his room, he'll pretend that everything is fine, but that he's a little tired. Luke, Solomon and even Raphael will let him be. Not because they believe it, but because they can perceive an almost frightening aura coming from him.

Love is like a pendulum, just as it swings to one side that lights up your soul, it can also swing to the side that shatters it with the exact same intensity. How could you do that to him? No! He can't blame you. These are his feelings, he is the one that has to deal with them. But they still connected to you. And who was that demon? He would understand the Brothers, but who was that one? Should he talk to you? He has to calm down first. But yes, he needs to talk to you!

He was about to text you, asking if you could meet him at Purgatory Hall, but you were faster and sent him a message saying: “Hey. I haven’t seen you today. And Luke told me you feel a little blue. If you want to talk, I'm here for you.” Unfortunately, this was worse than if he had sent the message first. You were being your kind self, the one he felt in love with. Reading it while remembering what he say, it's just heartbreaking. But he needs to settle that matter.

“I'm glad. Actually, I would like to talk to you. Could you come to Purgatory Hall today?” You answer with an of course, and you go there. You go to his room for more privacy.

You may never find out, but he trained himself in what to say and how to say it to you. “The truth is... I ended up seeing you yesterday. On the street. With that demon.” he doesn't hide his sadness. And he expected to see an expression of surprise, realizing what he was talking about. But you were just really confused. What demon? What Street? You were at the Demon Lord's Castle the whole time yesterday. You were having tea with Diavolo because he wanted to talk to you about ideas he had for improving the exchange students program.

Because he's an angel, he can tell you're being completely sincere. So, would he have mistaken you for someone else? No, it was clearly you. Or someone impersonating you? He would solve this problem later. Perhaps with the help of Lucifer and Diavolo. But for now, he felt as if his heart had healed. The tightness he felt returned to a comforting warmth. And you can see it in his face.

He explains to you what happened and you tell him you would never do such a thing. Despite the relief, he still had a sad look on his face. You get closer to him, caress his face to bring it closer to you and kiss him on the cheek. He hugs you and touches his forehead to yours. “Can I be a little selfish and ask you to stay with me a little longer?”

Solomon was buying ingredients for his magical experiments when he saw "you". He is shocked and he just wants to separate that demon from "you". He may have given it some thought. Maybe it crossed his mind, even for a few seconds, that maybe he should leave the two of you and talk to you later about it. But he doesn't care. He takes some material from his shopping and casts a spell that sets fire to the pants of the demon that's kissing “you”. More specifically, on his butt.

The demon panics and when “you” see that and then Solomon “you” panic too. And the two run away. Which is another shock for Solomon. He didn't attack you. He wanted to talk to you. But you... ran away. You ran away from him? What... what was he supposed to do now?

You get a message from him late at night. Like VERY late at night: “You know, I really wanted to talk to you. But I didn't know how to do it. If you want to talk, I'm at... that bar I forgot the name of... you know. I am here.” You remember Asmo telling you about Solomon getting drunk in a Devildom bar. It was probably what was happening at that moment as well. You decide to meet with him, mainly to make sure he was okay. Or at least as okay as he could be.

When you arrive, he waves to you. You sit in the chair next to him instead of in front of him. He had a bottle of a drink from the human world in his hand. Half empty. “Hey. Sorry to text you so late, but I really needed to talk to you about this afternoon.” About that afternoon? What happened? “Oh, do you want to forget about that thing? Yeah, I'd really like to forget that too. I tried, as you can see, but I can't.”

But what was he talking about? What did he see? “Listen, don't do this. I just want to work things out. I mean, clarify the matter.” And you tell him you have no idea what he saw that afternoon. You were at the Demon Lord's Castle all afternoon with Barbatos. Learning how to make a tea that Lucifer really liked for the days when he was more stressed. It took most of the afternoon because it was difficult to prepare.

He almost jumps out of his chair. “Wait! Are you serious? Let me just call Barbatos for a minute.” He calls him, who confirms what you just said. “So you weren't out on the street with that demon? Then who was...? Ha... ha ha ha ha ha...” and he bursts with laughter.

You try to ask him what he's talking about, but he says it doesn't matter right now. Since you are right next to him, he hugs you, almost desperately. He's so relieved it wasn't you. He won't tell you anytime soon what he saw. Your curiosity will keep you close to him. And that's exactly what he wants.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Obey Me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fluf #obey me x reader #obey me Diavolo #obey me Diavolo x Reader #obey me Barbatos #obey me Barbatos x Reader #obey me Simeon #obey me Simeon x Reader #obey me Solomon #obey me Solomon x Reader

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bunnyreaper · 3 months

Text

𝓷𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈

𝓅𝓉 2 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), mentions of cheating (not from reader or john), age gap (older male younger female), future daddy kink, mentions of blood

notes - back at it again in dilfville, hopefully, this chapter is worth the wait! ♥ also on ao3! ♥

How easy it is to forget about the outside world with John by your side is startling. Everything other than him melts away into the background, and in the safety and comfort of his home, the two of you exist in your own little peaceful bubble.

In the back of your mind, you know it'll eventually sink to the ground and violently pop, but for now, the two of you float—suspended in tranquility. Your day goes by so easily, as you rest on the couch and watch TV with John—phone forgotten about, troubles set aside.

John makes it easy to forget. He's always had this way about him, like his mere presence lifts a weight off your shoulders while he carries it, carries you, just for a while, and allows your world to be a little lighter.

It's later into the evening when you finally find yourself compelled to get off of the couch and actually do something with your day, when John pulls you out of the reverie you'd settled into together.

"I should get on with dinner." He says, slapping his thighs before he rises from the comfort of the couch and the warmth of being your human footrest.

You're quick to rise too, sitting up straight as you try to recall him to the couch before he can make too much of a fuss. The guilt of taking advantage of his hospitality is already eating at you—regardless of how illogical it may be.

"Let me do it." You plead. "You're kind enough to let me stay here, at least let me repay you."

John pauses, his eyes narrowing at you briefly before one of his thick eyebrows arches. "Darling, aren't you bloody sick of cooking?"

Even when he's giving so much, he's still exceedingly considerate.

"Only when cooking for a man who doesn't appreciate me, otherwise I enjoy it." You climb to your feet with a smile, making your way over to John to gently push him in the direction of the kitchen. Whilst he moves with a stubbornness, you know he's still letting you push him, otherwise you know you wouldn't be able to move him an inch.

A smirk tugs at his lips, hidden behind his thick beard as he finds himself amused by your antics. The levity you bring to his otherwise burden-filled life is not something that goes unrecognised by him—not now, not ever.

Finally, he truly relents, letting you direct you both into the kitchen, moving himself enough to make your job of pushing him easier. "If you want to help, I wouldn't mind your company."

Your hands withdraw from the warm, broad expanse of his back and settle by your sides, as you feel the need to pull away from him the second it's no longer necessary—scared by how good the physicality felt, even if it was entirely playful in nature. It's been so long since you felt so light and got to share it with someone else, an age since you indulged in light-hearted touch.

"What's on the menu?" You ask as you move to the sink and force yourself into doing something to keep you busy—tackling the dishes seems like a good idea for being both helpful and suitably occupied.

John makes his way to the fridge, swinging open the heavy door of the American-style fridge-freezer with ease, and immediately moving to grab fresh ingredients. "Spag Bol."

"Ooh, your signature dish." You coo, recalling fondly the many occasions he has hosted you for dinner in the past.

Dinners had become a regular thing when John and James had been getting to know each other, with you often there as a buffer—not that you did it begrudgingly or ever minded so much. Getting to know John was an unexpected delight, and as the two of you recently agreed, a friendship had formed—regardless of your relationship with his son. You'd spent many nights over at his for dinner or drinks—good food and delightful conversation, memories you treasured.

Even in the beginning, John's protective and caring nature had extended to you almost immediately—a natural extension, you’d presumed, of his growing bond with his biological son. He'd dropped off meals for you when you were sick, memorised your tea and coffee preferences, always took the time to buy you a thoughtful gift for Christmas and birthdays.

John cuts through your trip down memory lane with the thud of him putting a pile of ingredients down on the countertop. "Well, I know you love it so much. Went to the shops last night to get everything."

An exasperated sigh leaves you. For a man so good at taking care of others, there were times when John Price's self-care was severely lacking. As the sink fills with sudsy, hot water, you pin John with your most intimidating glare. "When do you ever even sleep, John?"

He returns your look for the briefest moment, then smirks at your attempt to look authoritative. "I sleep plenty, don't you worry."

A realisation seems to strike him a moment later.

John heads over to the record player in the corner, flipping the switch and setting down the needle.

It's easy for John to succumb to the relaxed atmosphere of his kitchen—music playing and you by his side. His fingers drum against the turntable stand as the opening notes of the rock-reggae fill the room and quiet any further chastisement from you.

"Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy—" John's voice carries louder than the vocals, a smooth tone you've heard so rarely before—John only sings when he feels most at peace.

Whilst his voice is beautiful, the subject matter of the song almost feels inappropriate in the moment, though the way your cheeks flush makes you think it's just you projecting.

"Oh my god, John." You groan playfully, rolling your eyes and watching as he sways his hips ever so slightly as he makes his way back over to you, still softly singing the words.

He stops singing as he steps beside you at the sink, leaning onto the counter slightly with a hint of a smirk on his face and an incredible amount of mirth in his eyes. For once, he seems so light.

"Never had a crush on an older man?" He asks, his tone light and yet still with a hint of teasing. Perhaps he thinks your opposition to the song is your lack of relating to it, rather than the fact you relate a little too much.

You're not sure when it really started, or when it escalated uncontrollably, but lately, you've been looking at John in a different light. It's probably the combination of the heartbreak, the sleep deprivation, and the beard. You were always a sucker for a gruff-looking, unavailable older gent.

And now here one is singing a song about forbidden love, lovers separated by age—like he knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling.

"Obviously I have." You scoff, almost dismissively, as you turn to slip the first few dishes into the water. John stays silent for a moment, and curiosity gets the better of you. "Ever had a crush on a younger woman?"

He barks out a laugh, pushing himself away from the counter as you see him shake his head and suck in his lips. "No comment."

Your mind starts to wander, as you try to think about what kind of woman catches John Price's eye. His circumstances are difficult and his standards clearly high, as he hasn't been in a relationship in the years you've known. John nudges you with his hip, as he leans over the sink to start washing his hands.

His warmth is overwhelming beside you, and only spreading further. You try to focus on anything but his large hands, as he covers them in the suds he works up from the soap. You try not to stare at the way he grips the bar, and practically chokes the block with his fingers, nor how he works the creamy lather up his hairy forearms.

But you’d be lying if you said the plate in your hands got any cleaner. Of course, you could blame your stillness on courtesy—you're just giving him the space he needs to wash his hands so he can get on with cooking, nothing more.

"Zenyatta Mondatta is a classic." He all but whispers from above you, as if he still feels the need to justify his album choice.

"Best album the year you were born?"

"I was born 81, not 80, bun." He tuts, shaking off the excess wetness from his hand before he reaches around you to grab the hand towel from where it's threaded through the handle of the cupboard beside you.

Your grip on the plate tightens exponentially despite the slippery surface, as a cascade of shivers passes over your body and pools low in your gut.

The tension in your body feels like it's ready to snap at any moment, and yet just before it can, John pulls away, and a cold sweeps back in.

"Don't stand, don't stand so close to me." His singing almost taunts you as he saunters back over to his ingredients and gets to work.

You try to focus again on the dishes in the sink. Yet, you couldn't wipe the wide smile off your face if you tried, exhilarated by life's simple pleasures—by the way, it seems that colour is starting to bleed back into your life in all these little moments. A flurry of feelings you haven't felt in so long floods you, too.

"Forgot how much I love being in the kitchen with other people." You laugh, verbalising your happiness in a fairly throwaway comment.

"Kitchens are the heart of the home, as they say." John replies, and you can tell he's smiling fondly, probably recalling the nights spent at his kitchen island with you, James, and the other people lucky enough to be in his life.

After a moment, he continues on, yet his tone is more somber than before. "You know, sweetheart, I wish I'd have known sooner how he really treated you."

You wonder if it would've made a difference.

"He's just not for me, he's not necessarily bad just... okay, I mean besides the cheating." You say, wrinkling your nose with disgust—still, you find yourself making excuses for him, finding ways to soften the blow.

John sighs. "You give him too much credit, love."

It feels wrong somehow to open up to John about this, despite his soothing on the matter. "It wasn't fair for me to talk to you about that stuff, even if you do give the best advice. Still doesn't feel fair, really." You grumble as you scrub at a bowl, removing the dirt.

"And what about what's fair and best for you, hmm?" John's chopping grows louder, more erratic, as his frustration flows through his arm and his wrath is taken out on the raw onions. "For crying out loud, the lad cheated on you. I have half a mind to go over there myself to finish what we started earlier."

You shrug, entirely uncertain of how to untangle the messy web that is your emotions. Guilt, relief, anger, and peace all swirl together, with no one feeling jumping out clearly and continuously beyond the others.

"Look at me," John calls your attention to him, only speaking again once you do. The look on his face is deeply sincere, his eyes betraying the emotion within. "Once you're on your feet again, if you want nothing to do with me, all you have to do is say. Otherwise, I'll be in your life for as long as you let me."

Fuck.

"That's reassuring." You nod, smiling genuinely, yet you try to restrain it lest you betray how much it really means to you. "Yeah, I guess, as you said earlier, we're friends."

You say it more to convince yourself, as it's a truth that isn't going to change regardless of a silly schoolgirl crush.

"Not planning on changing that unless you are, love." John smiles.

See, you say to yourself, he's all but confirmed it too. "I'm glad some things are going to stay the same..." You mutter, though there is some sincerity and reality to your statement. "Especially when everything else is about to get turned upside down."

"I suspect you'll be better off when the dust settles."

"I hope so."

You turn back to the dishes, trying to focus on the music rather than the thoughts that battle against John's soothing words. His quiet company helps stave off some of the discontent, the sound of him cooking and singing quietly providing a safety blanket around you.

"Do have to let you know I got the call, leaving sooner than I would've liked."

"When?" You feel yourself stiffen. Every time John leaves, you're always a little on edge—and yet, with the circumstances, this time just feels worse.

"Tomorrow." He admits softly.

"You've only been back a matter of days." Your heart pangs.

He scoffs. "No rest for the wicked, eh?"

"It's gonna feel weird getting settled in here, but especially alone." You offer up your honesty, in the hopes it'll alleviate the gentle crushing of your chest, yet you try to remain stony-faced.

"One big change at a time, love." John's voice is soothing, as he attempts to reassure you. "Change of scenery, then change of roommate. It'll give you a chance to just be free of Price men for a moment."

"He's not really a Price..." You sigh, because maybe if he were, things would've been different. If John had raised him... would he be a better man? Not that you believe his mother is to blame for his issues, but you know from James' occasional rants that he didn't have a male figure he respected growing up.

"I suppose not." Behind your back, John shrugs. "Point still stands, though. While I'm not thrilled about the idea of you being all alone, at least it gives you some space to think of what comes next."

"I guess it does." You sigh and try to focus on that thought—time to figure things out and feel the relief of being free. A wry laugh leaves you when you realise John has managed to reframe his departure as a positive thing. "Fuck, I hate how you always make me feel better."

"Hah, add it to my list of crimes."

A beat passes before a stray thought pops into your head. "If you're headed back, does that mean you'll be shaving?"

You crane your head around just in time to see John pause, turn, and stroke at his beard.

"Don't know. What do you think?" He continues to stroke at the grown-out brown hair, as you get lost taking in his features and the way that they seem to look so different with his new, fluffier style.

"Feel like you've been staring at it a lot, not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing." He chuckles, his smile tight-lipped and a touch self-conscious in a way that only you can bring out of him.

"Somehow, it makes you look..." Your brain scrambles for an adjective that isn't 'daddier'. "... younger?"

On anyone else, a full beard would likely age them, but compared to John's usual old-timey war general look, it gives him more of a casual, handsome look. You remind yourself to ask for pictures of what he looked like before he grew facial hair.

"Ageing myself prematurely with the mutton chops, then?" He frowns ever so slightly, though you know his pout is completely playful.

You throw your head back with a laugh. "Thought that's why you did it, to really solidify your authority."

"Don't need any kind of facial hair for that, love." He purrs, sending a shiver down your spine.

You force your attention back to the dishes and school your expression into something more neutral, dunking in all the cutlery in at once as you desperately begin to clean. It's a clear attempt to make sure John doesn't notice your reaction to his words.

"Whatever you say, John." You mutter, trying to end the conversation before it spirals any further out of control.

He laughs, hums, then casually says something you never expected. "Mmm, now that's what I like to hear."

"Ow, fuck!" You yell as pain sears through your skin, a knife hidden in the soapy water slicing through your skin at the momentary distraction.

John is over in a flash, coming to your aid and pulling your hand into his grasp so he can inspect the wounds. "Christ, love, are you alright?"

"Fine, I mean, it's only small." Each word is through gritted teeth, as you try to tough it out in front of John.

Despite the fact the incisions across your fingers aren't particularly deep, they bead with crimson blood and pulse with stinging pain.

"Right, that's enough. Sit down." One of John's hands remains holding your hand while the other settles on your shoulder, and he manoeuvres you to one of the stools at the kitchen island. He pays no mind to the way your soaked arm drips onto his t-shirt and jeans, too focused on his mission.

"Yes, sir." You say absentmindedly, feeling like one of his men—you don't notice the way he stiffens, his touch getting a fraction tighter, as his body and mind jolt at such simple words.

He doesn't meet your eye, instead inspecting the cuts before turning to grab the first aid kit he keeps under the sink. "Doesn't look like it'll need stitches."

"This isn't a battlefield injury, John, and I'm not a child!" You can't help but pout exaggeratedly, as not only does it convey your meaning, but it helps disguise your wince as John cleans, dries, and dresses your cuts.

"No more washing up. Don't give me that look." He fixes you with a look and a stern point that just dares you to challenge him, and for a moment, you glare right back at him.

In the end, you know you stand no chance of winning against the formidable foe that is protective, Papa Bear John Price. One time you insisted on washing up after he cooked, and he followed you into the kitchen to turn off the water main, just to show you how serious he was that you sit down and fucking relax.

"Fine." You sigh, as John's moment as a nurse comes to a close, with him finishing your dressings and packing away the first aid kit.

"Sit pretty. Food won't be too long." He tells you before he returns to the pans on the hob, checking on the spaghetti and stirring the bolognese.

The fragrance from the stewing sauce surrounds you, making your mouth water in anticipation of John's signature dish. It doesn't distract you from the pain completely, but it at least gives you something to focus on as you try to ignore it.

"Can I... ask something that I've been wondering about for a while?" You ask, propping your head on your non-injured hand as you watch John work.

"Of course." He nods, eyes flickering to meet yours briefly.

"Have you and James' mum ever talked about... you know, everything?" You resist the urge to pick at the medical tape securing the bandage to your skin, as you know that eventually it's going to come off. "I don't know why I never asked before, guess I felt awkward, and I tried asking James, but he never wanted to talk about it."

John pauses, taking a moment to think. "We met for coffee once, after I first found out. She was very apologetic, explained her side of things."

It's easy for you to tell, having grown accustomed to his expressions, that there's more to the story than he lets on. John always tends to play his cards close to his chest when it comes to his inner workings, asking more questions than he ever answers, but you're used to that look in his eyes whenever there's something he's holding back.

At least, you like to think so. If you're good at telling when he's withholding, you're even better at not pressing him, at least under usual circumstances. Today, something compels you to ask more.

"Do you... resent her for what she did?"

"No." He answers, a little too quickly, before rolling his shoulders and straightening his posture. "Maybe I should, maybe I should resent the fact I missed his childhood. I suppose I do, but I would never have had the life I've had otherwise."

"Figured I might still have the chance to be a dad, but would've never had the chances I did had I not joined the army."

The insight into John's mind is fascinating, intoxicating, even. It's hard to imagine him as anything other than a captain, even if father and family man suits him quite well too.

"You wouldn't have joined up if you'd known?" You ask, questions still tumbling out of you as curiosity about John leaks out of every pore.

"No." He pauses, pressing his hands into the counter. Finally, he looks at you with stormy, emotion-filled eyes. "Would've stayed, married her. Done the right thing." It looks like it pains him to admit it, as his brows furrow and his lips tighten.

"Wow. Must be weird seeing her now, knowing she could've been your wife." You probably shouldn't have said it aloud, but the thought of that different reality is so jarring to you that it slips before you can stop it.

"She's a stranger, really." He shrugs.

"A stranger you had sex with... once upon a time." You say, squinting as you try to imagine John and James's mum sharing anything beyond pleasant smiles and polite small talk.

"Barely." A dismissive scoff leaves him, as he picks up the wooden spoon and returns his attention to his cooking.

"Barely? What does that mean?"

"Well, it was only once, and even then... every man has to learn somehow, love." John says the words as if they're so casual, yet they cause heat to rush to your cheeks.

"Your son still hasn't learned at all." You say the words without thinking, a tinge of bitter resentment bursting through. "Sorry, fuck."

"S'fine." John tries his hardest to stifle the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, practically throwing himself into grabbing bowls and cutlery to serve up the meal. "He really didn't know how to handle you, did he, love?"

Your chest seizes once more—guilt, indignation, amusement, confusion. There's a hope within you that when the dust is all settled, you'll end up with someone like John, someone who can treat you better.

"No, he didn't..." You admit weakly, before checking yourself. "Sorry, I think the pain and the blood loss are making me woozy. I'm gonna stop talking now."

John only smiles understandingly, eyes shining with mirth, as he passes you an oversized bowl filled with delicious spaghetti. He takes a seat beside you, knee knocking into yours as he makes himself comfortable— his warmth feeling too close for comfort and yet not close enough at all.

"Eat up, darling girl."

********

You and John finish up your meal in companionable silence, accompanied by the rest of the tracks on the current vinyl. As always, John's cooking leaves you full and satisfied, warm from the inside out.

Once more, you're banned from washing dishes and were only able to get on drying duty after begging John and pulling out your most convincing doe eyes. The night ended with you both turning in sooner than usual, in anticipation of John's departure the next morning.

Usually, you last saw John off when he came to visit you and James, putting on a brave face and wishing him well. You're thankful that with the new proximity, you can at least fret in the privacy of your new bedroom, away from John's worrying eyes—the last thing he needs to see before he leaves is your tear-stained cheeks.

Sleep doesn't come easily, as you toss and turn in bed and try not to think of being alone in the coming days, or the possibility of something happening to John.

When sleep finally does come, you wake in a panic—sweaty and dry-mouthed. The nightmare that plagued you is hard to recall, the only thing burning in your mind is the final scene. You have to flee into the night, and you're desperate to grab something to cover up with so you don't freeze to death—you can't find anything warm anywhere. The image quickly fades away as you blink your eyes open.

You roll over to the side of the bed, clutching your phone and practically burning your eyes when the screen blares into your corneas.

3:59. 16 minutes to your alarm.

With John's departure fast approaching, you throw yourself out of bed, grabbing your cardigan and wrapping it around yourself before you head in the direction of John's room.

The door is closed firmly, likely to quiet any noise he makes from rustling around in preparation. You knock lightly on the wood, waiting for John to call you in.

You step in, taking in John's appearance. It seems he decided to keep the outgrown facial hair after all, the fluffy beard leading down to the chest hair poking out from the top of a soft grey cotton tee.

The dog tags around his neck are the only nod to his upcoming deployment, as he leaves John behind and heads off to become Captain Price.

He smiles as soon as he sees you, though it doesn't escape your notice that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Hope I didn't wake you."

"Nah, can't sleep." You explain, as you make your way further into the room and perch yourself on the end of John's bed gingerly. "Figured I'd make you sick of me, so you're glad to be away."

You peer into the holdall that John's currently packing things into, inspecting his contents and mentally ticking items off a checklist.

"Don't think anything could make me glad of that, love." He frowns, pausing as he expertly folds a t-shirt and places it in his bag. "Especially at a time like this."

"I'll be fine." You say it for his sake, even if you don't entirely believe it. Your number one priority right now is sending him off with a smile.

As you spot one of his signature beanies poking out of a side pocket, you pluck it off the duvet and pull it over your bedhead. "Maybe I'll just run riot while you're gone, throw all your cigars in the bin, and steal every beanie you own."

That brings a smirk out of him, the worry clearing from his eyes. "Evil girl."

"Yeah, I'm a right menace." You confirm, a gleeful smile spreading across your face unrestrained.

Several things stand out to you in the bag or surrounding it—the sunglasses case, a tan-coloured rag, and John's beloved boonie hat. Your quick inspection gives you an insight into where John is headed—flip-flops again, you joke to yourself.

"Guessing you're off to some shitty desert then." You comment, not intending to pry any further.

"Feel like I never leave them." He notes—that wry smile returning to his face as he meets your gaze.

"Have you packed your sun cream?" You ask, half joking and half serious.

"Wouldn't hear the end of it if I didn't, hmm?" He chuckles knowingly, likely recalling the last time he came home with a sunburn and was met with your impassioned rant. He'd learned his lesson at least.

"And the moisturiser we got you for Christmas?"

"Already packed." He pats the toiletry bag on the bed, and you rush to pick it up, unzip it, and verify his claim.

"Lip balm?" You ask, peering up at him with a mischievous grin, just waiting for his reaction.

"Now you're just taking the piss."

You pull your beanie down low on your forehead, just as you've seen John wear it, then you cross your arms across your chest and drop your voice. "Sorry lads, cover my six, gotta get my Burts Bees on."

At that, he belly laughs. "I'd never live it down, and you wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

You rise from the bed, laughing with him, before you remove the beanie and reach up to place it over his head instead. "No, Captain." You whisper, grin bright.

"You're a handful, love." Despite his words, the fondness in his voice is clear as day.

You tap his cheek playfully before stepping away. "Well, fear not, like I said, you're rid of me for a little while."

"Desert doesn't seem so bad now you mention it." John rolls his eyes playfully, before turning to add the final items and zipping up the bag beside him.

"Have you got everything you need?" You ask, instinct taking over as you begin to fret over ensuring everything is perfect for John's departure.

"I do know how to pack for myself, but if you want me to humour you..." John's hands fall to the zip, ready to tear the bag open if it would rid you of the concerned frown growing on your face.

You back away, hands raised. Point taken, you think to yourself. "I'm used to fussing, okay."

"You and me both." He nods, then shoulders the bag and gestures for you to head out of the room.

You lead the way like heading up a death march, slow gait and head lowered, knowing what's to come. With each step, a sense of dread grows within you. John is leaving, and there's seemingly an unspoken agreement between you both that something about this time feels more severe.

When you both reach the door, John shrugs on his sherpa-lined jacket, ties up his boots, and stands as he summons up the nerve to leave.

Once again, a half-hearted smile graces his face, as he reaches out to rub at your arm. "I'll call you when I'm headed back from base, yeah?"

You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to bead in your eyes, once more putting on a brave face. The mention of his call makes your mind flicker to your usual routine.

"Will you be going to see—"

"No love. I'll be coming straight home." He interrupts, squeezing you before withdrawing as if it burns to touch you.

"Stay safe, John." You whisper, the words you say every time coming easily. You swear to yourself that the words act as protection, or at least, you hope they do.

"Always, love." He nods, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. Then, he opens the door and steps over the threshold. "Anything you need, I'll get back to you when I can, yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, struggling to get out even a word as your throat tightens.

"See you soon, darling girl." He calls out, and you watch him until his truck pulls out of the street and off toward danger.

#captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #call of duty x reader #nobody does it like you do #call of duty fanfiction #spotify

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talaok · 11 months

Text

The cheating

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You misinterpret a situation and think that Joel is cheating on you.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, misunderstanding *not proofread*

| Request |

"where's Joel?"

"I'm happy to see you too Ellie" you joked, easing her backpack off her shoulders.

"No, I just mean, he usually picks me up from school" she explained

"He was busy today"

"doing what? What's more important than me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"first of all, I love the way you think, never change it, second off all, I don't really know, he went out in a rush"

"He didn't tell you?"

"no, not really"

"oh I'm gonna have a field day scolding him about not declaring where he's going like he wants me to do"

"he does that because he loves you"

"yeah, well, it's time he gets a sip of his own love" she air-quoted the last word, making you smile.

"you little demon" you chuckled, pulling her closer as you started walking off.

"what the fuck?" you exclaimed, as you swung her backpack on your shoulders "What the fuck do you have in here?"

She looked up at you, a malicious glint in her eyes

"Have you ever heard of books?"

__ __ __

"So how was school?" you asked, as you rounded a corner to get onto the main street.

The wind was blowing but the sun was up in the sky, resulting in the perfect temperature.

The pebbles under your feet sounded with each step as the commune's buildings started surrounding you.

"useless, as usual," Ellie grumbled, her tone scarily matching her dad's.

"oh c'mon, I'm sure you learned some interesting things"

"nope"

You glared at her "Did you at least have some fun?"

A smile crossed her face "That I did" she said, "Me and Dina found a dead frog!"

"ew! gross!" you grimaced "You call that fun?!"

She laughed "I do, it was so soft and... sticky" She touched her fingers like the feelings still lingered on them, and you watched with more than a bit of terror as her eyes sparkled at the memory.

It was at times like this you wondered just how much she had taken from Joel.

"I'm gonna puke" you commented, making her snort

"Relax we didn't do anything bad, Dina insisted we gave it a funeral"

"thank god" you breathed a sigh of relief "That poor thing,"

"We buried it under a tree and gave speeches and everything, it was really moving"

"What did you say?" you asked, as you surpassed the refectory

"You know, the usual stuff" she shrugged "How good of a frog she was, how she'll be deeply missed yadda yadda yadda"

"of course" you chuckled "the usual stuff"

She smiled too now "I'm fucking starving" she moaned

"language" you reminded her, and as usual, got in return the same scowl that told you: first just how hypocritical that was coming from you, and second, that she was never gonna listen to you, and you both knew it.

"Why?" you ignored her look "Didn't you eat?"

"Today was vegetable loaf day" she responded like that was enough of an explanation.

"So what? That sounds good"

"it may sound good, but when you get that green goo on your plate I promise you're gonna change your mind"

"goo?" you made a face

"Yes. Goo." she repeated, "They say Ms. Meril dumps all the rotten vegetables into a pot and then adds a special ingredient, that I personally believe to be..."

You had stopped listening to her a while ago as your eyes stared at the image in front of you.

You would have recognized that hair from a mile away.

He was there. Joel was there.

And not alone.

Your eyes fully focused on the man and woman in front of the pub.

You could see they were talking, and not just that.

Her hand was on his chest, as she stood so close to him they could probably taste each other's breaths.

You couldn't see his face, Joel's face, your boyfriend's face, but what you could very well see was that he wasn't pushing her away or protesting in any other way.

If you hadn't known any better you would have thought they were about to kiss.

And just then, you realized that you did, in fact, not know any better.

You felt your heart speed up, as your feet slowed down, unconsciously coming to a stop.

That's why he had to leave in a rush?

To go fuck another woman?

As much as you felt the rage boiling inside of you like a fire, what really prevailed was the pain of the realization.

You stood there, watching them, as tears clogged your throat.

So much for I love you

So much for I was lost before you

You could physically feel your stomach twist and turn and suddenly you were nauseous.

All this time, you thought, and he's cheating on me

"Hey, you ok?" Ellie's voice was distant, muffled behind the wave of emotions coming at you.

When you didn't respond, she followed your line of sight, still firmly pointed at the pair.

"Oh fuck" she said quietly, making everything worse.

You had secretly wished she would have seen something else, given you an explanation, and laughed at how crazy you were being, but her tone told you everything you needed to know.

"I'm-I'm sorry y/n"

Never, had you heard her stutter.

"I can't believe this- he's an asshole, I'm gonna-" she took a breath "I'm gonna beat him up, and he's gonna regret this, I swear"

As much as you wanted to laugh, you feared the moment you opened your mouth a sob would have fled it instead.

"I can't believe this" she repeated, and the truth was, you couldn't either.

You were happy. There was nothing that didn't work, you had a great relationship, you barely fought, you loved each other's presence, everything was good... or so you thought at least.

And he had thrown it all down the drain

And for what? For some slut he just met?

No, you immediately stopped yourself, No I'm not gonna be one of those women that blames the other woman.

This is all his fault.

He's a cheating, lying bastard who doesn't deserve a minute more of my time, you decided, taking a breath.

"Let's go," you told Ellie

She frowned, confused "A-are you sure"

"let's go"

__ __ __

Ellie hadn't left your side for a second.

You were sat side by side on the couch, your gaze fixated on the chimney in front of you, as Ellie probably rummaged through her mind to think of something to say.

You were frozen. All the anger and the pain mixing together to create a seeming numbness.

"Listen I-"

Ellie's words immediately stopped when the front door opened.

"Hi, I'm home!" He half yelled from the entrance.

"Hello?" He spoke again once he didn't get an answer.

His heavy steps sounded against the floor as he started walking to the living room.

"Where is every-" he stopped once he saw you "There you are, why didn't you answer?"

The confusion on his face only multiplied once you took both your expressions in.

"what is it?" he asked, clueless "I'm sorry I couldn't come get you today something came up"

"Yeah, something," Ellie remarked, disappointment clear in her tone.

Joel frowned "What are you talking about?" he asked, "what's she on about?" he turned to you now.

You were about to speak when the girl beside you interrupted you.

"You know very well what I'm talking about Joel, don't play dumb"

The wrinkles on his forehead increased as his puzzlement persisted.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said "I can't believe you would do something like that, especially to y/n"

"what are you-"

"we saw you" Ellie anticipated his question "In town"

"I don't kno-"

The girl wouldn't let him speak, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a tiny bit better.

"there's no point in lying anymore we saw you with our own eyes Joel"

He looked at you once again, and you adverted his gaze to look at the very angry girl at your side.

"thank you, Ellie, but I think I can take it from here"

She hesitated, looking between you two "You sure?"

"yes" you swallowed your nerves away "don't worry"

She shot Joel a look for far longer than necessary and then finally got up.

"alright" she nodded "I'm gonna go next door then, but if you need anything just yell," she said, starting down the doorway, but not before stopping at Joel's side "And you... I'm not talking to you anymore" she decided, getting out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that filled the room was louder than any sound you'd ever heard, except the one of your pounding heart of course.

You stood up, walking to the other side of the couch so you were facing him but you were still carefully distant.

"What is going on?" Joel finally spoke

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool because you're sure as hell not wasting any voice or tears over this asshole

"Joel I know you're cheating on me, or at least have cheated"

"What?"

"When I was getting Ellie home from school we saw you in front of the pub"

You watched as realization crammed his face.

"y/n that was not what you think"

"I'm sure it wasn't Joel" you rolled your eyes "Listen I don't care for any lame excuse or apology, I just need to know one thing... why?" you said "You at least owe me that. Everything was good wasn't it? What was it that made you feel the need to go and fuck some other woman?" for all your promises your voice was getting louder.

"I didn't- y/n I've never cheated on you"

"stop lying!" you burst "Be an adult and fucking own up to what you've done!"

"y/n" he stepped closer to you and you took a step back.

"stop" You put a hand in front of you, signaling for him to not take another step "Answer my question"

Now he took a breath. And god if you didn't want to punch him.

You're frustrated? You're mad? How do you think I feel?

"y/n" he spoke again, his tone more even, "I swear to god sweetheart I have not cheated on you. The woman you saw me with is Jessie, She's just Tommy's friend. Nothing happened, Of course, nothing happened baby, I love you, you know that. I would never hurt you”

“Oh please, so you're telling me all of Tommy's friends get their mouths that close to yours?"

His lips gaped open, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alright," he breathed, convincing you you were about to get a confession.

A mix of nausea and homicidal rage electrified your body.

"She is... well, she had been- flirting with me," he said "But I've never led her on, sweetheart, I would never do that, I don't have eyes for anyone but you" he sighed, and his deep brown eyes were pained "Listen," he took a step, and this time, for some unknown reason, your feet wouldn't budge, "My brother called me about an emergency and I rushed there to help"

"an emergency at the pub?"

"just-" There was anxiety and sadness creeping up his voice "Please let me finish, I swear it's not what you think baby"

"fine" you nodded

"I helped him out and he invited me for a drink over at the pub and I accepted. We talked for a while and then when I was about to go, Jessie showed up, and she was trying to get me to go to her house, to which I said no and headed out, but she kept following me until we were outside, and that's when she cornered me and I decided it was time to stop being nice and tell her I don't want anything to do with her"

Silence fell again.

"I can call Tommy if you want, he saw all of this"

"Like he wouldn't lie for you" you commented

"You're right, but you also know how strict he is about these things"

that's true, you had to admit.

"Please sweetheart" he begged, his hand trying to grasp at yours "Y/n I love you, I love you more than anything, I'd give my life for you, I'd do anything for you" he promised "I know it's hard to believe me but I swear to anything and anyone you want that I'm telling the truth. we can even ask Jessie if you want, just please- I need you to believe me" If he sounded desperate it's because he was.

"If that's true why didn't you push her away?"

"I-" he stuttered "I didn't because I didn't want to cause a scene, I just wanted to talk like a civilized person, like you always say I should do more"

You bit your lip, trying to make some sense of the mess in your brain.

"Joel" you huffed "Are you being honest? Because I'm giving you a chance to come clean now and if I were you I'd take it"

"I am" he answered within a second "I am sweetheart, I'd never cheat on you, you're the love of my life for god's sake," he said, his hand finally grasping yours.

You looked up at him, and a dark pang of surprise came over you as you noticed the glinting glaze on his eyes matching yours.

"please" he murmured "I can't lose you y/n, not over something like this. I understand how you could have misread things, I do, but I promise that's not what happened." he breathed "I'm yours y/n, I only want to be yours"

Your eyes fell to where your fingers intertwined, all the memories rushing back like a raging river.

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said, and you believed him. because this was Joel Miller we were talking about, the man that you had fallen for since he first saved you, and kept falling for each time he saved you again. He was a good man, no, not the traditional definition of that term, but to you, he was a good man, the best man.

"alright" you decided "Seems like I'm gonna have to have a talk with Jessie"

"And I with Ellie" A small grin tugged at his lips

"Oh she's pissed alright" you chuckled "I don't know if I'd do that if I were you"

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sideeve · 5 months

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ㅤ ㅤ ㅤPRAY YOU CATCH ME

lulu's notes ! ; i am so srry for being inactive. i have no excuse tbh. but have this! based off of beyonce's pray you catch me

ingredients :: angst, cheating, mike having dreams abt cheating, breaking up, vanessa being that girl

"i'm going to go find some blankets." vanessa stands up, walking away to retrieve blankets for abby's fort. mike's eyes focused on vanessa's backside as she walked away, hips swaying to a non-existent beat.

"i'm going to use the restroom." mike leaves you no room to comment before he runs away, heading away from the bathroom. you watch him with furrowed brows, trying to understand why mike was so weird recently.

since he had picked up a job at the pizzeria, the state of your relationship was declining. mike had barely made eye contact with you, he didn't notice your presence at all. whenever you did talk, it was all about vanessa.

vanessa this. vanessa that.

you couldn't remember the last time mike had been so passionate about something. let alone someone.

it might have been your paranoia but mike was taking a long time to be only using the restroom. "abby, how long ago did vanessa go get the blankets?" you interrupt abby and bonnie's play session. she shrugs, "i don't know. she's been taking too long."

you pout, thinking of the next course of action for you to do. trust mike and pray he's being faithful or investigate and bust his ass.

your gut was screaming at you to stand up and find out what was taking you so long. your body felt weak with each step to took, getting closer to the storage room.

"your girlfriend is right outside this room and you decided to make a move on me?!" through the closed door, you could hear vanessa's upset voice. your stomach sank. you fucking knew it. mike was a liar.

"look, i'm sorry. i-i don't know what came over me." mike stammered as he tried to de-escalate his current situation. "just don't say anything."

and he was a pussy?! you really do know how to pick them.

you humorlessly chuckle to yourself. all these times you called yourself crazy for suspecting he was a cheater. all the times you tried to push those feelings deep down in your stomach. it was all useless.

you heard them shuffling towards the door. in a panic, you rush back to abby's fort, painting yourself happy as if you hadn't just heard them arguing. "hey, baby." mike slides beside you, kissing your cheek. you force yourself to not cringe and let him kiss you.

walking behind him was a pissed vanessa. the both of you meet eyes, telepathically sending each other the same message. mike follows your line of sight, panicking as he thought vanessa was about to speak. "uh abby! it's past your bedtime isn't it?" he nervously chuckles, looking for a safe way to get the three of you to go home.

"but mike!" abby whines. "nope! you have school in the morning." mike stands up to scoop abby in his arms. gesturing his head to tell you to get up.

abby was asleep in the back of mike's car as he drove you three of you home. you looked out the window, watching the tree pass by in a dark night. the pregnant silence was making mike nervous. the only source of sound was abby's light snores and the radio which was playing a station mike despises. "did you have fun?" mike breaks the silence.

you hum in response. you knew if you spoke, you would've woken up abby due to your yelling. "you-you look pretty."

mike only stuttered around you if he was hiding something. "did you have fun, mike?" your eyes were still on the window. "yeah. i loved making the fort with you and abby."

"nothing else?"

"just you two." he smiles.

his dishonesty was on his breath; you could taste it in the air. and he passed it on so casually. every word he let out was a lie. it was like being truthful wasn't in his code.

vanessa giggles as she straddles mike's hips, his hands softly gripping her hips. "are you sure she doesn't suspect us?" she whispers on his lips before closing the gap between the two of them. "she doesn't suspect a thing." he bites her lip teasingly.

this is how it was supposed to go. mike wanted to be this close with vanessa--this intimate. it felt right for him.

lips still attached to each other, mike sees you standing there, watching this unravel. "[name]!" mike quickly pushes vanessa off of him. as he scrambles to find the right words, he takes note of your face. you were upset but you were softly smiling. you took the opportunity to speak before him.

"what are you doing, my love?"

mike gasps awake, his chest heaving. "fuck." he groans, rubbing his forehead. on instinct, he rolls over to your side, hugging your body. except...you weren't there. matter of fact, none of your things were there. the slippers you left at the side of the bed. your favorite perfume you used to leave on his dresser. none of it.

"no, no." mike scrambles out of his bed, running outside to see if your car was still parked in his driveway. in defeat, he sulks back into his house. it felt so empty without you. you were what brought the house together. you made lively.

he was now facing the consequences of not cherishing what was in front of him--what he needed.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy’s fanfiction #five nights at freddy's

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jeanbie · 2 months

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SWEET UNWIND ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampies, foodplay, grumpy & sunshine, fem!reader, piv sex, silent sex (little dialogue) | wc: 6.1k

note: proudly inspired by the insatiable thoughts i had while watching charles bake his cake and kill people in "the brothers sun". also i got cheated on and felt horny, so turned to my favourite cartoon man for relief

⏤ When Levi's not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he's found that baking desserts is an excellent way to unwind. Yesterday, he made a beautifully sweet strawberry drizzled cake with cream. On today's menu, his personal favourite: cream pie.

Gangnam, Seoul; five to midnight, the city turning in for the night as bold and bright lights flicker to life, the streets lined with neon glows that on the waterfront look like blurry fireworks. While constant lines of traffic come and go, honking and revving at the lights as they hurry to wherever they need to be next, Levi switches off the egg-timer that blares to life loudly and sets it down on the kitchen island.

Behind him, baking in the oven with a warm and golden glow, is the sponge for his lemon drizzle cake. He glances up at the TV screen across the room and watches as one of the contestants drizzles extra veins of lemon curd across a wide canvas of white meringue cream, then looks back at his own display of ingredients.

First, he heads to the oven and using the oven glove, he pulls down the door and extracts his top sponge layer. Immediately, Levi sets it aside to cool — too hot and the dollop of cream that will spread into his smooth centre will melt and dribble off like water.

When Levi’s not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he’s found that making desserts is an excellent way to unwind. It’s a simple step-by-step process where the final product produces something he can feel proud of, and something he can enjoy with a cup of tea or even something stronger.

He’s found over the last three years or so of baking that a hard liquor blends well with cheesecake, one with crumbled biscuits as a garnishing layer. Bailey’s accents any type of chocolate dessert almost too perfectly, and even does well inside of one. Last Christmas, for example, Levi enjoyed a whole chocolate truffle infused with the alcohol all to himself.

Baking takes a level of concentration that actually requires very little of him, and being able to see something he’s made all on his own at the end of it all can often be more rewarding than the stakes in the real world, outside of his entirely too fancy penthouse apartment. His job is often too demanding, too vicious, but coming home with a bag of ingredients that will eventually transform into something beautifully delicious feels like he’s turning a switch and stepping out of one life into another.

Outside, out there in the harsh city, Levi Ackerman is a force to be reckoned with, a danger to those outside of his inner circle. But here, inside his home, his fortress, he doesn’t have to be anybody but himself — Levi Ackerman, the man, the neighbour, the dessert enthusiast.

Now that the sponge has cooled and the decorations have been sliced and prepared, Levi takes to assembling his own version of the British Bake Off lemon drizzle cake. Instead of it being baked as a tray bake, Levi’s followed the same style as Mary Berry herself; circular, smooth and comfortably petite.

He takes the cream he prepared before and slaps it with a wet plop on the bottom layer of sponge, smoothing it out with the flat-knife until he’s satisfied with the coverage. Then, he uses a spiral technique to create a lemony blend to bite into.

He spares a single glance at the swirling iron staircase leading up to the upper floor of his apartment when he hears movement, a simple and quiet rustle of sheets and an equally low-volume groan — a stretch of some kind. Then, he looks back at his cake and sets the top sponge over the finalised inner workings of his cake and gets to work on the pipework and decorations.

It is so easy for him to get lost in the craft. One minute rolls into five and rolls into ten as he perfects the lemon slice arrangement on top of the cake. He even prepared some lemon gratings beforehand and uses them as a powdery layer on top of the smoothed out blanket of cream. Once everything is in place, Levi looks back up at the TV and watches the contestants present their final results to the judges.

Back and forth — his eyes move from their cakes to his. He thinks his cake would have earned him Star Baker that week, that’s for certain.

Even though Levi chooses to bake after work to dispel the tension building up in his bones, he still doesn’t feel completely satisfied with his work today. The cake is as good as he can get, especially when it’s his first real attempt at a lemon drizzle. But an ache lingers in his shoulders, a buzzing feeling of discomfort in every joint and muscle.

Today has just been extra hard. One dessert won’t suffice.

After a long haul of tracking down one of the leaders of a local crime organisation known as the Hannam Tigers, and successfully putting a few of his henchmen in early graves, Levi knows that one small cake won’t be enough to satiate his irritation for the night. In his line of work, things went wrong sometimes, even when they were annoyances he could do without.

The Hannam Tigers operate in a network of highly trained men with highly decorated backgrounds, and even with Levi’s colourful skillset, it can be a challenge to rid them from the world.

Levi rinses his hands under the tap and uses a cloth to dry them, catching the final portion of the competition on TV before tossing the cloth to the side and dumping his utensils into the sink. For now, he focuses his attention on the assortment of ingredients he’s set to the side to make his all time favourite dessert.

But first, he’ll need to head upstairs.

With what he needs in his hands, Levi escapes the kitchen before it swallows him into creating more and more desserts and then climbs the staircase curling up into the upper floor. Up here, there is a study that he barely uses — not because of his incompetence to utilise it, but instead for a general lack of need, considering he prefers a much more physical and hands-on approach to what he sensitively calls his ‘career’ — a small bathroom and his bedroom, which he heads for and catches a glimpse of the glistening city from the window inside, the door ajar.

Inside, he takes a few steps forward and sets his things down, looking up to make out your shape in the swamp of black bedsheets. He can barely see you in the dark, but you groan and make your presence known, sitting up on your elbows to peer at his silhouette cast by the light from the hallway.

“You finished your cake?” you ask, your voice tired but nonetheless sweet, caring, genuinely curious.

Levi makes out your face in the dim light and waits until his vision settles. Once he sees you more clearly and sees the smile on your face, he nods simply and looks back down at his messy pile of ingredients.

You arch up a little higher to see what he’s looking at.

“Bring any for me?”

Levi doesn’t look up. “No.”

“Rude,” you reply, amused and unable to make out what he’s arranging neatly on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed. “I happen to like lemon drizzle.”

He knows. That’s why he picked that episode to watch, those ingredients at the store.

“I don’t,” he replies. Levi’s not a fan of lemon anything, really.

The door behind him creaks ever so slightly, the light widening across the room. You sit up straighter, watching him as he falls into a carefully analysed breakdown of his mystery items.

“Can I have some later?” you ask, filling the silence with conversation. If you strain, you might make out the next episode of Bake Off beginning to play, but you search for Levi’s signature noises instead; his silent yet attentive laughs from his nose, the grunts under his breath, unbothered hums of his attention and or interest.

Levi looks up then, and rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His blazer is downstairs hanging off one of the bar stools under the kitchen island, his shoes by the door. Now, he’s just dressed in whatever he came home wearing — there hadn’t been time to change, what with you slumbering like a princess in his bedroom.

It’s a good thing he likes you, otherwise the lights would have been on and his work clothes off. Instead, he left you to it, heading for the kitchen when he came home and switching on his complimentary British Bake Off episode to accompany him in his regular routine of baking.

“I only made it for you,” he tells you.

You arch an eyebrow — not that he can see, anyway. “Oh, really?”

He gives you a hum, thoughtless. You rearrange yourself under the sheets.

“I thought the whole point was to eat the dessert yourself after making it,” you say, filling the quiet moment with something as he skims his gaze over the ottoman again.

He doesn’t look up when he says, “Well, I haven’t finished baking yet.”

“Oh?” you reply. “Something else cooking?”

“Yes,” he says. Then, he rounds the bed slightly from the right and whilst looking at you, he climbs up onto the bed with his knees.

“What’re you making?” you question, a grin widening over your face as he looms near. You feel his hand just miss your leg under the sheets as he lays his hands flat on the bed, lifting his weight closer to you all whilst maintaining an unnaturally cool composure.

If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was bored by the entire exchange. His face is covered in shadows, and yet you can still see the slipping shift of something in his eyes as they catch in the light from the windows.

Levi’s face reanimates in the city lights, now not far from your own. He curls his fingers around the bedsheet and tugs it down, exposing your legs to the cool shift of temperature in the bedroom. You shudder, leaning your head back until it softly hits the wooden headboard.

“Pie,” Levi says.

“Mmm. I love pie,” you comment.

He grunts, another one of your favourite Levi-sounds.

His hand shifts from the bed to your leg. In the dark, everything feels more pronounced; his ever-so-slightly rough palm smooths across your thigh and down your leg, past the knee and down towards your ankle. Once caught in his grasp, he manages to pull you from your sloped position against the headboard and back down into the pillows. He knows you're wearing nothing else from the waist down — all the more reason to tug you down and snatch a glimpse of what he knows is his.

“What kinda pie?”

Levi finds your eyes again in the dark, and you’re not sure if he planned it, but now you can see his face in a spectrum of light. His expression is flat, toneless, yet intrigue dances across his eyes as they wander across your face, down past your neck, and down to the exposed skin of your chest from underneath one of Levi’s shirts you stole from his drawers.

He says nothing for a moment. Using both hands and releasing your ankle, Levi presses his hands against your abdomen, running them up underneath the shirt until he reaches your sternum, the sloping sphere of your breasts against his fingertips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pushes the shirt all the way up over your breasts, and uses his body to part your legs until your knees are on either side of his hips.

The weight of his gaze makes you squirm slightly.

He blinks. Licks his bottom lip so quickly you almost miss it and says very simply, “Cream.”

Your grin widens.

Levi lowers his face to your stomach, his lips pressing against the skin above your belly button. Immediately, as if practised, your hands jump up to his head of hair, your fingers threading through it as he works his mouth down from your stomach to the damp space between your legs.

A home within a home; a place he loves to push his face into when he’s had a particularly long day.

Levi doesn’t even have to put in any effort anymore. You quite contently lift your calves up over his shoulders, widening them enough to feel his lips circle around your clit, two fingers widening your folds so he can stuff his face with your cunt.

Coating your clit with a layer of wetness, he replaces his lips with his right thumb and moves his fingers, using his tongue to part you down the middle, and making you writhe against the bed with a satisfied moan.

He’ll admit it to nobody but himself — he’s missed you. You’ve missed him, too, and the way it feels when he rubs his thumb against your nub in careful circles and plunges two fingers up your cunt. Levi could fool himself all he liked with the fantasy that baking a cake was enough to relieve his pent up stress from work, but nothing quite works to ease the burden like a face full of his favourite girls’ pussy.

Levi’s left hand drifts from your stomach to your thigh, smoothing over the top before curving down and round to the inner of your legs, his forearm wrapped around you comfortably and effectively locking you in place. He likes to watch the wetness pool between your legs as he gorges himself on your taste, but today he closes his eyes and closes his lips around you, tasting every inch of you like you’re his own slice of dessert, his favourite kind. Topped and served with a string of elated moans, just the way he likes it best.

“Mmf—!” There’s not a lot for you to say, nothing you can conjure up from the air gasping in your throat as Levi’s tongue licks laps around your clit, his thumb just shy to the side as he leaves a wet present for him to massage into your skin, his mouth very quickly preoccupied by the space neglected beneath.

As his fingers curl up inside of you, then widen apart, your calves drop as if you’re trying to pull Levi closer to your body, and in turn he pushes his left arm down on your thigh and drags you with a smooth motion down the bedsheets and closer to his mouth. Your head arches back with the angled slope of your back, reaching up off the mattress in a coordinated performance of pleasure, and Levi finds the time to open his eyes and look up over your stomach and breasts to find your face; mouth agape and lids closed, gasping silently into the dark.

Yeah. Out of all the desserts he could possibly create in his kitchen, he’d probably have to confess that his favourite one was one that could be made in the bedroom.

Your hands take fistfuls of his hair and feeling the hot flatness of his tongue in the space between your clenching hole and your clit, you find your hips grinding up into his mouth, the slight nudge of his teeth making you squirm even harder beneath him. Levi’s no longer phased by the aching tightness of your fingers woven in a knot on his head. Whenever your fingers twitch and the clutch on his hair tightens, Levi knows he’s doing something right.

Every lick and nip against your cunt is matched by a groan, and as you ride the dampness between your legs against his lips, your voice thins out into a raspy nothingness. Your mouth is dry with the air of the bedroom, your eyes forcing themselves to close when they try and open to peer down at the man snug between your thighs.

Levi feels a mixture of wet substances around his mouth and on his chin, but before he can grant you the pleasure of cumming down his throat, he pulls back.

The emptiness of the space between your legs is jarring, and almost immediately you sit up. Your hands drop from his hair and fall onto the bed, which you use to lift up your shaking body to watch as Levi leans back on his knees and retreats to the forgotten ottoman. It is only when he rises to his feet to observe the array of secret items displayed for his eyes only that you realise Levi is still wearing every article of clothing he was before.

“What’re you doing?” you ask him, finally finding your voice as he arches over and fiddles with something that sounds plastic.

You catch the shine of your own arousal on his chin as he scans the catalogue of items.

“Preparing dessert,” he replies.

Your brows quirk, but when Levi stands upright and begins to shake something with his left hand, you feel your heart and its fast beating plunge straight to your stomach. A knot wells and tightens, and you bite a moan back and feel your thighs coming together like a magnet in anticipation.

Levi is shaking a bottle of whipped cream.

It shouldn’t surprise you nor excite you the way that it does. Levi has always had reservations about whipped cream — it should be from a bottle or made in a bowl; exclusively used as a side for a tart or cake slice, as a topping on a pancake, as the twist of sweetness on top of a hot chocolate. Levi doesn’t use whipped cream on his desserts in the same way he does as an accessory to the bake, but today — tonight, it seems as though he has found another valuable use for his generally unused bottle of whipped cream.

“This is new,” you say, feeling your ass lift off the bed as you struggle to contain your writhing excitement. Levi tests the nozzle; a burst of white cream spits out onto his finger, and without looking away he puts his finger in his mouth with all the nonchalance of a chef tasting his dish as he makes it. “I thought you didn’t like bottled cream on your desserts.”

“I like it on some things,” he replies. “First rule of baking is that you never feel afraid of trying something new.”

You hum thoughtfully as he retakes his position on the bed. It should make you laugh with the way he looks down at you while slowly twisting the bottle from left to right, but it doesn’t; it only makes you breathe heavier, your pulse quickening and legs opening as if on automatic and letting him take the space he’s claimed between them.

“They do say that it goes well with pies,” you say finally, watching as he angles the nozzle down on your stomach. The placement, if nothing else, has surprised you, and you suppress a moan of eagerness when he presses down and watches with a newfound intensity as the spiral of white cream pools out onto your skin. He’s cautious with the amount; just a small bud of cream, enough to swallow in just a mouthful.

Levi leans himself forward and pauses just before he can lick the dollop up off your tummy.

“Clue’s in the name,” Levi replies, and with his eyes boring into your own, he presses his lips around the blob of cream and mouths it up off your body. It is entirely too fast, your jaw slacken as he pulls away, as if gauging your reaction. The yearning expression on your face has the nerve to almost look endearing to him.

He swallows. “Sweet.”

He receives from you something sounding like a whimper. Then, his finger is back on the nozzle and using the cream, he creates a trail from where he last was all the way down to your clit.

You feel yourself clench when the cool texture of the cream sits in a melting bundle on your bud, and your teeth bury themselves into the flesh of your lower lip, biting down with extra force when Levi’s mouth shifts down to your clit and in one teasingly slow strip, he licks the trail of sweet cream up from your cunt to the wet spot on your stomach.

With his tongue, your back arches up off the bed, your knees by his shoulders. Levi is uncomfortably aware of the pooling arousal between your legs, his own forming tightness in his trousers. Watching you writhe with a glistening shine getting more and more pronounced so close to his face has proven to be exactly what he needed to unwind today, but he’s still not quite satisfied.

He’s not ignorant to the way your hips meet with the empty space he leaves when he moves away again, as if fucking an imaginary cock or grinding against an invisible set of hips. He uses his right hand to press you back flat against the bed and savours every second of your aroused moaning when he slathers your cunt with the cream, leaving no wet patch untouched.

He watches with only minimal irritation when the cream slips down your folds into a white pool on the sheets — his sheets — but he takes its sliding as a sign to move back in.

Levi licks the cream up as if it isn’t even there; it’s as if he’s taking gulps of you like it’s nothing, licking every inch of the cream and enjoying the wonders of your pleasure as you cry out above him. His nose brushes against the hidden bump of your clit, the feeling of his hot tongue making your toes curl behind his back, your fingers clenching around the sheets.

Ordinarily, you may have laughed at the sight of his lips coated in a white sheen, the cream on the tip of his nose, but today you can find nothing to laugh about. Every unit of energy is devoted to the tightening clench of your cunt, the tingling warmth growing inside of you as Levi wipes his nose and rises off the bed and onto his feet, right where the ottoman stands as a barrier between you.

He lets you play out your imaginary fantasy, rolling your hips into the empty vacuum of space where he was just situated and uses his hands to undo the belt around his waist. His trousers fall with an effortlessness when he undoes the front button, and he compels himself to watch you stare at him with a lustful gaze as he pulls his trousers down to his ankles. He decides he’ll keep his shirt on — it’s only fair, since you’re still wearing his, albeit the fabric is bunched up under your neck in the way he likes it.

He mounts the bed once again and meets you when you moan expectantly, and relishes in the sharp intake of your breath when he takes your right leg and folds it to the side. You look at Levi over your shoulder, your neck to the side as he presses you down with his left hand and uses the right to hold his cock.

You are once again reminded of how truly lucky you are to have a man like Levi; a man who needs nothing but your cunt in his face to get his cock standing rigid against his lower stomach.

You swallow a moan when Levi pokes the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, and when his eyes catch yours, the sharpened edge of his grey eyes staring straight into your own, you can’t catch the cry of pleasure that escapes when he pushes himself into you, feeling you wrap around the tip of him like your cunt is a mouth on its own.

Levi watches you gasp as if pained and he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You’re wet enough,” he says in a low tone.

“Hmf—!” And then the length of his cock is buried inside of you, only proving his point.

There’s nothing to explain the way it feels when he’s stuffing your hole: it’s as if he was made for you, a perfect fit to make you whole. Even with virtually nothing to ease the slip into your pussy, there’s no agonising stretch, no painful play — just a wholeness that feels as natural as anything else in the world.

Levi’s fucked you so many times that he might as well claim he lives up here, and each time he makes himself at home, he’s welcomed with open arms and a swallowing gulp. He pushes his hips all the way against you, until the underneath of your thigh is squished against his stomach and you feel the slight slap of his balls against your ass.

He’s never quite fucked you from this angle before, but it’s not unwelcome in the slightest. He wraps his wrist around your thigh and holds the front of it with his hand, his left coming to hold the sinking curve of your waist, which he uses to push you further into the mattress.

Every time his dick sinks further inside of you, you let out a moan — he moves in and out so fast it’s as if he’s trying to keep your noise at a constant speed, never wanting to be left in a silence.

Levi looks down at you as he fucks, no longer interested in the way his dick disappears into the dripping darkness of your cunt and instead entirely devoted to mapping out the pleasure on your face. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but everything he loves to see.

His hips rock against you, his shoulders tensing as you clench furiously around his length. Surely you don’t mean to be coaxing him into an early finish — surely you wouldn’t be rushing him along when he’s trying to enjoy his dessert.

The tip of Levi’s dick kisses your insides, but from this angle and the burning heat pooling in your abdomen, you don’t know if he’s hitting your cervix or deeper into your literal stomach. Levi’s fucked you from all different angles in every corner of his house, but he feels extra large today. The darkened edge of his eyes might be deceiving you, the sticky residue of cream still on your skin.

You’re almost vibrating with pleasure as he fucks you, and all you can do is stay pinned to the bed like a doll and gasp out your praises.

Like most fucks with Levi, he says nothing besides, “Fuck,” in a dragged out, strangled type of way. He likes to make you suffer by dragging it out for as long as humanly possible, just to see you writhe and cry underneath him, your pussy pink and pulsing, begging for him to stop.

Today, however, luck looks to be on your side.

Unlike normal, Levi has little desire to unravel you into a sobbing mess. All he wants today is to fuck the brains out of his girlfriend and watch as her cunt fills with his cum.

Levi’s fingers clench into your skin, and for a second he closes his eyes in an effort to ride it out just a little bit longer before filling you up. When he feels your hand wrap around his wrist like a vice, his eyes fly open to look at you; you’re curled up, sunken in the bed, contorted into his favourite shape.

Levi spares a glance at his cock swallowed up in your hole and watches with pride as he thrusts in and out of the wetness, and after a stuttering sequence of your hips jerking and mouth falling open with the release of some of his all time favourite sounds, Levi devours the sight of white squeezing from around his dick.

He feels his throat catch. He’ll let you have that one.

Around the quivering clenches of his cock, Levi shudders and lets you squeal until you’ve run dry. He runs his fingers across the width of your connection and smooths the cum between his fingers. Then, without giving you the satisfaction of catching your breath, Levi continues his thrusting which gives him the continued pleasure of hearing you squeal and cry, your free hand reaching to the slip of sloping skin above your pussy as if you were trying to suppress the feeling rippling through you.

Long forgotten are the fingertips pressing bruises into your skin, but each thrust of his dick hitting the same spot inside you is met with an exhausted groan. Finally, when you’ve gathered the energy and courage to look up and around your body at his face, Levi lets slip what you think might be a satisfied smile, and he falters.

Ropes of warmth fill your cunt, and you hear Levi moan, loudly, and he unwraps his wrist from your leg and holds the base of his dick with his right hand. Carefully, he pulls himself out, save for the tip which remains snug in your hole, leaving no space untouched by his seed. He watches with wonder at the way your hole gapes around his cock like a mouth, swallowing his cum up until it billows out. Finally, he slips out of you, staring down at the oozing, swollen hole that is pulsing with cum.

For a while, he stares at it, breathing loudly as he waits for all of his cum to squirt out of you; it’s like squeezing a cream doughnut and watching the sickeningly sweet contents slide out.

Levi glances back up at you, amazed that you’ve been bold enough to watch him until the end, and he pats your waist appreciatively before rolling you back so that you’re flat on the sheets, legs apart, cunt wide.

Time to taste.

You watch as his head disappears between your legs, but he leaves no element of mystery. Your body almost jumps up off the mattress when his tongue pushes into your gaping entrance, lapping at the mixture of your cum and his and whatever else he can catch a taste of while he’s savagely licking down there.

Barely having the energy to pretend to stage a protest, you elect for moaning your approval and tiredly rake your hand through his hair again, pushing it from his forehead as you stare half-lidded at the crown of his head.

You lose count of how long Levi remains nestled down there. The only way you notice he’s no longer there is by the way he sweeps his hands down your legs and lays them flat, making note of every twitch and quiver your body makes.

Staring up at Levi and reluctantly forcing your body back up on your elbows, you grin up at him as he licks his top lip and appears thoughtful.

“Yeah,” sighs Levi, sniffing once in the way he does when he’s trying to fall back into his characteristic charade of coolness. “Homemade cream tastes better.”

Unable to argue, you heave out a laugh and meet his gaze.

“You’re fucking greedy,” you say, but that he actually does smile at.

“So what,” he replies, reaching for another one of the items on the ottoman; a cloth from downstairs that he uses to wipe the mess between your thighs, “we both know I like cream pies. I even shared.”

You flinch when he dabs the cloth against your still-sensitive pussy. You take it from him to finish the honour, meanwhile Levi gathers the bottle of cream and whatever else he brought and never used before opting to watch you shift the cloth between your legs, throwing it back at him in a forced huff. He catches it effortlessly.

“Whatever,” you say, very slowly moving across the bed to the floor. The wooden slabs are cold beneath your feet. “I’m sure your lemon drizzle is miles better.”

Levi shakes his head affectionately and moves to meet you face-to-face when you stand on your feet. He hums when he gets there and strokes his finger down your arm, charming his way into your arms and once he’s close enough to your face, he allows a smile to warm over his features.

He dips his head to greet your lips with a kiss, the first of the day since he left you in the morning.

“Trust me when I say,” Levi says when he pulls away, his expression amused as he croons his finger under your chin and quickly leaves another kiss on your mouth, “I very much doubt that.”

#aot #attack on titan #snk #aot imagine #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan imagine #levi baker au #jeanbie #ittojean

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matts-k1tten · 1 month

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 pt.5

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

summary: y/n finds her boyfriend (now ex) Chris cheating on her at a party and vows to make him feel the way she did..

warnings: angst, swearing, let me know if I missed anything.

*not proofread*

pink: y/n

green: Mia

orange: Chris

blue: Matt

purple: Nick

————————

Nick

What the fuck did you do?

“Shit! Nick just texted me!” I scream as I look at my phone quickly wiping my tears out of panic. “Oh, well what did he say?” Mia asks turning to me. “He seems mad over text he said ‘what the fuck did you do?’ and when nick finds out that’s when you know it’s bad.” I say about to shit my pants.

“Oh shit.” Is all Mia said as she turned back to the steering wheel. “Well, let’s go home first and shower and we’ll figure something out alright?” Mia speaks again. I only nod as Mia starts to drive.

My phone then dings once again.

Nick

You’re coming to my house tomorrow at 3:00pm sharp.

“Who was that?” Mia asks keeping her eyes on the road. “It was Nick. He- um, said we have to go to his house at 3:00pm sharp.” I respond trying not to let the anxiety get the best of me. I start fidgeting with my fingers and bouncing my leg up and down aggressively as Mia glances to me and reaches over the console to hold my hands.

“We’ll be fine, we just have to go and get it over with okay? You can’t avoid it forever.” Mia says her eyes still looking ahead. I just smile at the side of her head.

“You’re my best friend and I love you so much, you know that right?” I smile at her. I see the smile on her face grow as she squeezes my hand a little bit. “I’d do anything for you because I love you and you mean so much to me.” My smile grows and I look out the window.

“How far are we?” I ask getting bored. “About 10 minutes, not that long.” Mia answers. I just sigh and look out the window thinking about the things that could happen tomorrow.

What would Nick say? Is this the end to my friendships with them? What’s Matt gonna say? What’s Chris gonna say? Will nick hate me?

Thoughts raced through my head as I stared out the window. “Don’t think to much. The more you think, the more bad it’ll likely get.” Mia looks at me for a split second. I just nod a bit and lay my head against the glass.

“I’m just….thinking about how it could go.” I say softly. I look over at Mia who looks over at me then back to the road. “Wipe your face, you have mascara running down your cheeks.” Mia smiles. We both start laughing as I grab a napkins and wet it with some water we left in the car. I sniffle a bit and look in the mirror to wipe my face.

Mia then pulls into my neighborhood and drives down the street to where my house is. Mia and I both hop out the car and to the door and unlock it. “Let’s get ready for bed, we’ll think about this tomorrow, yeah?” Mia suggests. “Yeah.”

I slowly open my eyes adjusting to the light flooding in through the curtains blinding me as I wake up. I slowly sit up and look around my room. Mia is on my bed beside dead asleep slightly snoring.

I check the time “1:33”.

I get out of bed and grab my phone to go use the bathroom and make breakfast. I do my business and head down the stairs to the kitchen and pull out ingredients for pancakes. As I’m frying the pancakes, Mia enters the room rubbing the sleepiness out her eyes.

“Good morning.” Mia says as she stretches with her arms going over her head. “Morning.” I smile back. “Oh! I love pancakes!” Mia shouts like a kid and sits down at the island. I slide her a plate of pancakes and put some for me. We start eating silence taking over the room. “You ready for today?” Mia asks. “Not really, I have to mentally prepare myself for it.” I reply with food in my mouth. “Chew that and then talk.” Mia laughs out loud.

I just chuckle and chew faster.

My phone dings with a next from non other than Nick since his brothers don’t have the balls to text me themselves.

Nick

Remember, my house at 3!!

I just put a thumbs up and turn off my phone and place it face down. “Nick just texted me reminding me like it wasn’t what I was stressing about all night.” I look at Mia who is on her phone. “Yeah, well it means he’s really serious about it then.” Mia responds not taking her eyes off the screen.

I finish my pancakes and put the dish in the sink. “Get ready we’re gonna leave in like 30 minutes!” Mia shouts after me. “Okay!”

Mia pulls into the boys driveway and puts the car on park. “Nick said the door should be unlocked.” I tell her. “I need you to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen next because it could be a gamble, he could yell at you, make amends, try to forget about it, fuck maybe even kill you!” Mia says making me laugh. “Like Nick would do that, Nick is smart he’d probably try to understand the situation.” I say sounding more like i’m trying to convince myself.

Mia just hums and gets out the car and so do I. I mean, I was shitting myself to say the least. When Nick gets involved, that’s when it gets serious.

Mia opens the door and lets us in and I shut the door behind us. “Hello?” “In here!”

Mia and I stomp up the stairs to be met with the boys sitting on the couch. Nick with his legs and arms crossed, Matt with his phone in his hands, and Chris sitting with his head in his hands. Once we make it up the stairs, Chris looks up at us and I can see in his eyes that he’s been crying by his red and puffy eyes.

I suddenly feel bad seeing that him and Matt aren’t even sitting next to each other instead, they were sitting on the complete opposite sides of the couch with Nick in between them. Usually they would be so close to each other that their knees would be touching and Chris clinging on to him. It broke my heart to think that I did this.

My face visibly drops examining the room. “Have a seat.” Nick says to Mia and I. We both quickly plop down right next to each other. Matt turns off his phone and looks at us. No emotion behind his eyes beside the slight redness and veins in them.

Nick’s face is stern and serious as he looks at us. “All of you, are childish. I don’t know what goes through all your minds but you all really need to get your acts together and learn how to be an adult. If you don’t, your actions will cost you your emotions like this. So I just wanna know, if someone cheats on you, you wouldn’t want to try to hurt them back right? Be an adult and talk it out and settle it in a mature way, I get that Chris cheated on you but maybe think out your options first.” Nick says coldly.

I nod and look down at my fidgeting fingers. Nick turns to Chris. “Now, Chris if you would have just communicated with y/n and told her that you didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore, that you could’ve just said that.”

Ouch. The words said out loud hurt even more.

I feel tears start to weld in my eyes but I quickly blink them away. “I-I wanted to be in a relationship with her I just-I don’t know, I love y/n and-“ “Bullshit!” I scream cutting off Chris. “Y/n be mature-“

“No! If you loved me, you wouldn’t even have cheated in the first place! This-“ I motion my finger in a circle. “Would have never happened if you would’ve just kept your dick in your pants and controlled yourself and oh! Better yet, answered me! Since you “love” me so much!” I scream at Chris anger suddenly surging through my veins. “Y/n!” Nick stands up.

“It’s fucking true! He could’ve just texted me back and updated me on the past two weeks of his life instead of ghosting me like an asshole all that time!” I stand up as well. “Don’t call me that!” Chris stands up now face to face with me. “Why Chris?! You are an asshole! You broke my heart and cheating on me with that fucking whore that you know made me develop my problems in the first place!” I shout back poking my finger against his chest.

“That doesn’t mean you could go behind my back and fuck my brother!” Chris shouts back. I fall silent not knowing what to say next. “I didn’t know you still loved her.” Matt says under his breathe so quiet I barely caught it. Everyone in the room turns to him. Matt stands up.

“If you would’ve been a better man, you would improve your communication skill and tell everyone in the room how you feel! You can’t just keep to yourself whenever you do so without thinking of the effect it has on other people!” Matt shouts directly at Chris. “Maybe, you should find another girl to fuck and not my fucking ex! Why would you fuck my ex in the first place!? I’m your fucking brother for crying out loud!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs angry tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Matt doesn’t say anything as he puts on an angry fist and clenches his fists looking like he’s ready to punch Chris. “Stop! What are you doing?! All of you, sit your asses down!” Nick shouts and puts his hands in between his brothers. We all listen and sit back down. “Y/n, you know I love you. Right?” Chris asks in a broken voice him now crying. I don’t look at him as tears start to fall down my face. I keep a straight face and look forward ignoring Chris as I shake and cry.

“Y/n!” Chris shouts next to me and attempts to grab my hand to which I quickly pull away. To that, Chris lets out a sob and I close my eyes and quietly cry.

Mia rubs my back as Chris just stares at me in shock. “Don’t talk to me right now Chris.” I say quietly in a broken voice.

I just couldn’t look at him. If i did, I knew I was gonna burst into tears so I just looked forward. Everyone just stares at Chris and I, none of us not knowing what to say next.

“I-“ I sigh harshly. “I’m…sorry, to all of you. I know I’m not mature and I’ve been trying to get my act up but I really can’t. I guess this is my nature.” I whisper to everyone. Nick sighs and walks over to me and sits in between Me and Chris. Nick places his hand on my back and pulls me into his chest as I start to sob uncontrollably.

Nick rubs my back attempting to make me feel better. “It’s okay, let it out.” My sobs grow louder hearing his words. I start to wail loudly but Nick stuffs my face in his chest to muffle me.

Hearing my sobs, Chris’ face visibly turns in a hurt expression knowing he was the one who made me feel like this. “You’re okay.” Nick whispers. I cling onto Nicks shirt and try to breathe.

“Breathe.” Nick says softly. I listen and take deep breathes attempting to calm down and pull away wiping my tears with my sleeves. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright, y/n” Nick cuts me off. I turn to Mia who smiles at me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I look over to Chris who’s staring at us with tears forming in his waterline. I glance at Matt who can’t even look at us. “This is fucking stupid.” Matt mumbles. “Matt-“

“Why are you always trying to start shit?! Why can’t you just shut the fuck up for once and just let everyone breathe without your constant complaints!” Chris interrupts Nick. Matt turns to Chris. “I’m trying to start shit?! Look at you kid! You’re the whole reason why this whole situation happened!” Matt shouts at Chris. Mia and I stay quiet as Nick tries to calm them down.

“Shut up both of you!” Nick yells. The two stop talking. “You two-“ Nick points between them. “Need to figure out a way to fix whatever this is before I kick one of you out because I cannot live with two idiots who don’t know anything but to argue!” Nick screams at them.

It hit me again. What I did will forever damage their relationship. I can’t help but to feel guilty, when Mia brought up this plan I didn’t think about the outcome other than hurting Chris, fuck. Why would Mia even bring this plan up in the first place?

Why did I do this?!

“I’m leaving-“ Matt says and tries to race to his room when Nick holds him back. “You’re not going anywhere until this is all resolved.” Nick says and sits Matt back on the couch. Nick sighs harshly and turns to all of us. “I just….don’t know what to do with all of you. I don’t know what you guys want me to do, if you want me to throw you guys in a cage and fight it out or what but-“ Nick cuts himself off by taking a deep breath in.

“I just need you guys to….sort this out yourselves. You can’t just depend on me to clean up your messes, you have to learn to become adults and learn that your actions have consequences. So, I’m not going to help you guys with this. You guys are on your own this time.” Nick says quietly.

It felt like a mission. Like the objective was to resolve all of this. But it was gonna be hard, considering that Chris and Matt literally despise each other and Chris and I made stupid decisions which led us here in the first place. I felt like I was gonna fail this so called “mission”.

“Think through all your options this time you guys, please?” Nick pleads and walks away. Now that Nick was out the room, it was just the four of us. I sigh and think about my options to make this all work.

But I couldn’t think of anything. I shake my head and mumble a quick apology and stomp down the stairs Mia trailing behind me.

Where do I start?

———————

a/n: hey yall. I know Matt and Chris would never fight over a woman but erm it’s just for the story and the plot so shush and bear with me. so uh yeah hope you guys enjoy!!

taglist: @sillyfreakfanparty @stasiesturn @braindead4l @sturniololol @idkwhatthisevenislol @blushbunii @cindylcuwho @jennss23 @tyslover @st7rnioioss @ilovechrissturniolo1

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

Sugar & Spice

What if y/n was Harry's tour chef and harry has a huge ass crush on her so he would be like the first one seated for y/ns food and he would always compliment her

i was wondering if you could do one where the reader asked him to come over for comfort (maybe her bf cheated idk) and after she stops feeling so bad they have a moment and end up kissing and then their feelings get all confused??

"Make something that would make someone fall in love with you."

Your heart still thundered at the words, the soft request that felt like a demand caressing your thoughts and sending chills down your spine. Pastel anticipation stirred within your belly as you kept an eye on the saucepan in front of you.

The apartment was rich with the smell of spices. Harry had asked for a dish, but you were about to serve him a full-course meal, all teeming with flavor and color, the smell of everything fusing together in your kitchen and leaking throughout the rest of the apartment in a cuisine symphony. Even the pan full of molten chocolate permeated the room, the hint of chili you added to it cutting through the richness.

An arm snaked around your waist, the other reaching to sneak a taste of the chocolate sauce in front of you, a searing kiss to the back of your neck trying to act as a distraction. But when you were in the kitchen, you had laser-sharp focus. You smacked the hand away playfully, but not without intention.

"How much longer?" Harry asked, nipping at your jaw.

The breath on your neck, the lips on your skin, the hand on your waist sent you leaning into him, but not without the aftershock of surprise.

You were his tour caterer, his employee, and while the two of you had grown quite close since Live on Tour began, you were just friends. Harry was always first in line when dinner was being served and sometimes helped clean up when he could. He joined you on small excursions to farmer's markets to buy fresh ingredients and listened to you go on and on about the value of farm-fresh, locally sourced produce.

Food, cooking, creating, they were all things that cultivated your passion, one you could talk about for ages, if given the chance. Not many did, even your boyfriend's eyes glazed over if you talked about a new way to prepare cauliflower for too long. But Harry was always willing to listen and even peppered you with questions that you were more than happy to answer.

You became fast friends. You cooked for him during the day and talked and laughed over a bottle of wine and bread and cheese at night after his shows, riding out his adrenaline until he eventually walked you back to your hotel room or tour bus, depending on where you were traveling. Harry was a good friend, a great one even, one you knew you would cherish far beyond this tour.

Until tonight, where the jury was still out on the status of said friendship.

Because tonight something...changed.

Harry's show was in your hometown, and as such, you invited your boyfriend to come to the show. Being on the road for long months on end didn't make maintaining a relationship easy, and things had become strained, but tonight was meant to be an olive branch. You were excited to see your boyfriend after being away from him for so long, had gushed to Harry about how you were going to make his favorite meal and sleep soundly in your bed instead of a hotel room or bus bunk.

But before any of that could happen, your boyfriend admitted to having cheated on you while you were gone.

You were a wreck. You knew things between you and your boyfriend weren't great, but you never imagined that he would cheat. His confession swept the ground out from beneath you, blindsiding you in a way that manifested in calm confusion as you told him things were over between the two of you. But when he left and you were alone in the tour venue's kitchen, you could feel the breakdown coming. So instead of going to Harry's show, as you normally did, you went straight to the apartment you hadn't seen in months. Harry came shortly after the concert was over.

Having been in a relationship, and never considering yourself the cheating type, you never saw Harry as anything more than a friend. He was lovely, and oh so sweet, and very, very handsome. He was interested in your work and made you laugh and enjoyed talking to you as much as you liked talking to him. But he was your boss, and a celebrity, and you had a boyfriend. It was pretty cut and dry.

When he arrived on your doorstep, you were wrapped in a blanket, only the center of your face poking out of it. Harry cuddled up next to you on the couch and let you cry and rant and cry some more. He kissed the top of your head and wiped your nose with the sleeve of his tour sweatshirt. And despite your red, puffy eyes, despite the tears hanging off the tips of your lashes, Harry leaned in, nudged his nose against yours in a way that had you leaning in too, and you let him kiss you.

It was startling. Not that Harry was a good kisser, that seemed like a given. No, what was startling was how much you enjoyed it, how tender the slide of his mouth against yours was. He was gentle, like he was trying to be respectful of the fact that you'd broken up with your boyfriend mere hours ago. But the flash of your boyfriend's face behind your eyelids had you pulling away from him in an instant.

You were single technically, but it still didn't feel right; no matter how much you might've liked the kiss, no matter how much Harry seemed to enjoy it as well. You hid from Harry in your room. Not because you were hung up on your boyfriend, but because it felt so right to kiss Harry. And that thought filled you with panic and guilt.

Harry was still there when you eventually stepped out of your room, willing to listen as he always was, but you didn't say anything, just walked over to the kitchen and asked if he was hungry.

There were words left unsaid between the two of you, but both of you seemed content to ignore them for now, though when Harry murmured, "Make a dish that you would use to seduce someone. Make them fall in love with you," it was clear how he felt. He put himself out there, waiting to see if you would accept the advances or reject them.

And now he was wrapped around you, kissing you like he'd been doing it for years.

"Mmm. The peach and burrata salad is done, the fried duck wings just need a glaze, the rice should be done any minute now, the chocolate needs just a little more—"

"Okay, so you need more time. Can I help you set the table, at least?" he said, huffing out a laugh.

You could only manage a nod and a quick murmur of where he could find what he needed. Your eyes stayed on the food cooking in front of you, but you heard every noise Harry made as he moved through your kitchen.

*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.

Somehow you ended up on Harry's lap, a homemade churro doused in cinnamon and sugar and dipped in chocolate poised toward his mouth. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he took a bite, the crunch a harsh sound as he closed his eyes and moaned at the taste.

The sound had you blushing. You knew it was because of the food, and if you looked past the bashfulness, you would be proud that your cooking skills elicited such a reaction.

You could've made something fancy, something that would've shown off your culinary skills in a way that catering to everyone on tour didn't give you the opportunity to do. But when you began rooting around the kitchen, your hands automatically went for the rice cooker, and things just kind of went from there.

The appetizers were unique, you supposed. Fried duck wings with a lemon glaze and a mixed green salad with burrata cheese, peach slices, and a number of other colorful things that brought it to life. But the main course was fairly simple, still full of flavor, but simple. Chicken and rice and beans, almost the exact same recipe you'd grown up with. Harry asked for something that would make someone fall in love with you, and you figured there was no better way to do that than the root, the catalyst, for your love of the kitchen.

Harry marveled at all of it, listening as he normally did when you talked about knife techniques, and cooking times, and flavor profiles. You talked, perhaps to cover up your nerves, as you plated and served everything, and when you went to sit across from him, Harry gently grabbed you by the waist, and now here you were.

Harry's fingers grazed your arm in lazy circles, over the tattoos inked on your skin. They were all over your arms and abdomen, a passion you had that was almost as strong as your love for cooking. It was the first commonality you shared with Harry when you said hello after serving him and the rest of the crew the first meal of the tour. Both of you were busy at the time and couldn't discuss tattoos at length the way both of you seemed to want to, but Harry stopped by during lunch the next day, and the two of you talked over shrimp fried rice you'd whipped up.

"This...This shouldn't be this good," Harry finally managed to say.

It took a moment to find your voice, Harry's voice low in a way that made you suppress a shiver. But you said despite your dry mouth, "I'm glad you like it."

"And—And is it spicy? The chocolate? It's subtle, but I swear it's there."

"Chili powder. Just a little," you said with a nod.

"Oh. Well, don't let me eat all of it. Here," he said, offering the dessert in his hand to you.

You eyed the plate on the table that had three more churros on it and a bowl filled nearly to the brim with chocolate sauce, then back to him with raised eyebrows. Harry had the decency to blush, but he didn't back away or lower his hand. So, with a confidence that you didn't know you had or knew where it came from, you took a bite, just like he had.

You could feel Harry's eyes on you, which was alarming seeing as there wasn't really a sexy way to eat something so messy. Not that you were trying to be sexy, but Harry's gaze practically lit you on fire. You didn't want to be unappealing in front of him. He didn't seem to notice or care, though, just kept his eyes on you.

"You have something on your—"

He finished his sentence by reaching up to brush something away from the corner of your mouth. At least that's what you thought he was trying to do. But when his thumb grazed your skin, something warm, warmer than the heat of his skin, smeared over your lips. Chocolate.

Eyes widened, you opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he spoke first.

"I'll get it."

But instead of using his hand, he slid his mouth over yours.

You became as molten as the chocolate you made to dip the churros in, the kiss heating you from the inside. The first kiss you shared earlier in the evening had been tentative, curious. This one was pure heat as Harry licked over your bottom lip, sweeping up the chocolate on it that he'd placed there, and when you opened up for him, it lingered on his tongue along with the wine you picked out to go with dinner.

Harry barely gave you any time to gasp. He kissed you like he was starved, his kiss bruising in a way that had you pulling him tighter rather than pulling back, taking those curls that were just as soft as you thought they would be and gripping them tight between your fingers. His hands were warm beneath the thin material of your t-shirt, tracing the tattoo just above your belly button that spanned across your abdomen with the pads of his fingers. Angel, it read in big, bold script. Some people found it appalling, others intriguing or striking. You never really cared what people thought of your tattoos. Until you felt Harry's stare burning into your stomach every time your shirt rode up tonight to reveal bits and pieces of it tonight, that is.

"What—What are we doing?" you managed to breathe.

One of his hands had grazed your neck, leaving a trail of chocolate sauce in their wake, and Harry was now doing his best to clean it with his tongue. His other hand rose dangerously close to just below your breast, the anticipation of his touch making you shudder, but it also made a seed of hesitation take root in your mind.

Harry paused and faced you again, though his nose nearly touched yours. "I...I don't know," he said, and while that only made the seed grow, you appreciated his honesty. "I like how I feel when I'm around you. And I know it's messy with the tour and your—with your ex-boyfriend and everything, but...I don't know. I don't like shying away from a good feeling."

That's exactly what it was. Messy. What happened if things progressed from here and didn't work out? You had a job to do, you worked for Harry. You might have been able to acknowledge that good feeling Harry was talking about—a complete understatement, "good" didn't seem to do whatever was forming between the two of you justice—but you weren't sure it was worth possibly losing your job or compromising your raw emotions over. He might've been able to chase his feelings, but you couldn't.

"I—I would never fire you, or anything like that," he said, seeming to read your thoughts as they flitted through your mind. "And I'll respect your decision, whatever it is. I won't even bring it up again if you don't want me to."

The sincerity in his voice told you that Harry was telling the truth, and you knew him well enough that you believed him. You didn't know if it was just the heat of the moment for him, or if he'd secretly been harboring feelings, or if it was something else, and you couldn't even begin to untangle everything getting jumbled up in your heart.

But you could see the promise in Harry's eyes, the green in them clear as you had this conversation. The promise that he would make it worth your while, should you decide to go through with...whatever it was he was proposing.

Your apartment was so quiet, you swore you could hear his heartbeat thumping in time with yours. With shallow breath and shaking hands, you cupped his cheek. Your hand was rough with calluses, cuts, and scars from your time as a chef. Knife technique that developed over time and oil that bubbled a little too excitedly in the fryer; some of the pads of your fingers were even a little numb from touching hot food with your bare hands.

Harry didn't shy away from the roughness, though. Not as you caressed his cheekbone with your thumb and stood up from where you'd been perched on his lap. For a moment, his eyes left yours to gaze downward at what he thought was rejection, but when he heard the soft thud of you clothes hitting the floor, he looked up, drinking in every inch of skin you offered to him.

In just a pair of plain cotton underwear—the thick sheaths of your hair covering your chest and revealing only tiny glimpses of your skin and the tattoos inked on it—you picked up the bowl of melted chocolate off the table. Your eyes never once left his as you backed away toward your bedroom, an invitation held in them.

From the look on his face as he took in your near-nakedness, you thought Harry might've crawled. But, almost as if in a trance, he stood from his seat and followed you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you for all you were worth as he shut the door to your room with a definitive slam.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles imagines

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deathbypufferfish · 1 year

Text

It's finally done cooking, my sims gameplay ideas list! After scouring all types of sites, generators, lists, and my brain for ingredients, I've come up with a list stew that hopefully will spark some inspiration for your sims gameplays!

This non exhaustive list consists of ideas that are applicable to sims gameplay/things to do in-game. AKA things that can be played out in the sims or half pretended. If you're looking for less-gameplay story ideas, I recommend my story/conflict idea list. Most of the conflict and love ideas are on that list. Please feel free to send asks to add to the gumbo! Just note in your ask that it's for the gumbo and keep it applicable/feasible for gameplay. (To keep the post from getting too long I'll make a contributor list into a compressed image later on for those who send off-anon.)

If you are looking for more complex, in-game story ideas check out the Story Soup list here!

🍲 Gumbo below the cut! ⬇

Single Sim Gameplay:

Learn an instrument

Learn a new skill

Start a seashell collection (Island Living)

Have a sim get a bad haircut

Enroll an Adult/Elder sim in university

Use a skill you don’t usually play with

Become a mountain climber

Build a Servo

Take care of local strays

Use more likes/dislikes

Conflict:

Drop out of or fail university

Drop out or fail out of highschool

Talk badly about another sim in your house to other sims

Sim loses their job

Failed retail business

Family:

Foster a child

Parties for children

Have a baby shower

Have a slumber party

A grandparent/other family member moves in with your main household

Have a specific family holiday tradition besides the in-game ones

Family bike rides

Game night

Parent trains child in their sport

Family hikes at Granite Falls

Family volunteering

Bake sale (entrepreneur table)

Have a family photoshoot

Have teens study at the library

Have your teen go through a bad fashion phase

Host an exchange student

Make school picture day photos (Teen poses, children poses)

Have an arts & crafts day

Go fishing as a family

Have a specific weekly meal (spaghetti night, a fancy meal)

Make ice cream together (Cool Kitchen Stuff)

Wear matching pajamas for holidays

Have a bake off

Play with voidcritters (Kids Room Stuff)

Granola family (camping, hiking, low tech, simple living)

Play in a multi-generational household

Adopt

Family reunion

Unexpected baby

Have siblings share a room

Social/Activities:

Sports party night (e.g. watching the superbowl, world cup, etc)

Start a book club (with clubs)

Have a themed kids birthday party (Here’s a helpful website for ideas)

Have a potluck (buffet tables)

Garden party

Neighborhood party

Neighborhood holiday decorating contest

Host a haunted house in your home

Picnic

Barbeque party

Go to the arcade

Go regularly to restaurants (Dine Out Reloaded Mod to make restaurants tolerable)

Have an out of control party (maybe a teen party)

Go camping

Go to an Ice skating rink/roller skating rink

Spa day (at home or at a spa)

Make an army of snowpals

Movie night

Stargazing night/camp out in the backyard

Weekly bowling night

Museum trip

Karaoke night at home

Campfire night

Pool day

Weekly meetups with friends at a cafe

Try on wedding dresses with a bridal party

Have someone stay over (Growing Together)

Love:

Hook up with a service sim

Have a vacation romance

Have a “meet the parents” moment

Have an affair

Divorce

Marital fight

Rejected proposal

Throuple/Open Relationship (Open Love Life Mod)

Left at the altar

Use fear of commitment, jealous, or unflirty trait

Create a rocky marriage

Challenges:

Spend too much money on a vacation

Play with lot challenges

Use simple living (only cook with ingredients and do grocery orders)

Don’t clean up after sims (don’t drag plates, laundry, trash)

Use the Reduce and Recyle lot challenge for realism

Use the Filthy lot challenge to make cleaning harder

Lose a large sum of money

Randomize your sims’ traits as they age up

Household:

Have puppies and kittens

A serious house fire (either with cheating or with fireworks. There is also a mod for more intense fires here

Spring cleaning

Garage sale

Visit houses before you move into them

Create a storage room/attic (Eco Living boxes, Discover University chest, toy chest, treasure chest etc) Use this for old heir’s items if you are playing a legacy

Start a garden (herb, vegetables)

Renovate the house

Watch what your pets are doing

Adopt a stray animal

Teach your pets tricks

Upgrade objects

Have a home bar/rec room

Go on a vacation

Play with roommates (additionally have them be odd, difficult, or a romance option)

Have an always messy home

Hire a live-in butler

Hire a regular maid

Location:

Play in a sustainable community on one of the islands/isolated areas. (community farm, community space, homes)

Play in a tiny home (Tiny Living)

Play in a haunted house residential (Paranormal Stuff)

Become an Archaeologist. Live in Sulani and regularly visit Selvadorado for work

Career/Business:

Bookstore

Art gallery: sell your paintings or buy them off Plopsy/Buy Mode

Bakery

Play a career you don’t usually play

Winter sports store in Mt. Komorebi

Own a farmstand for your produce (Eco Lifestyle entrepreneur table) You can even build a small building for it on your property!

Pet supplies store

Plant store

Tourist gift shop

Mattress/Bed store

Florist shop (Flower Arranging Skill)

Juicery (Juice Fizzing Skill)

Yoga studio (host classes at a retail business or at a home studio)

Start a Bed and Breakfast/AirBnB with the roommate system

Become a celebrity in a path besides Actor/Actress (Author, Chef, Video Creator, Skier, etc.)

Food truck (Restaurant)

Fish stall (Entrepreneur table)

Make a living on Plopsy

Wool store (Cottage Living)

Natural health store (Herbalism)

Resources Used

ADAM DRIVER GIF DISCLAIMER: YES I KNOW IT'S A STEW

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 resource #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 inspo #sims 4 ideas #ts4 ideas #ts4 gameplay #puffer's gameplay gumbo #sorry there isnt a good stew gif my bad #i picked gumbo because it starts with a g #it could be a fucking lasgana i dont care #also addition asks to sections with less ideas are most welcome

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sneepseverus · 3 months

Note

hey! I have a headcanon of Young!Snape teaching Y/N in the library so they don't have to cheat during the Portions exam (it could end in a kiss, maybe. <3)

Yes! I feel like Snape would hate tutoring unless it’s someone he cares about. I wrote something a lil silly, so I hope you like it.

Pairing: Young!Snape x gn!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: a bit of arguing but mostly fluff

Dividers

To say that the past few months were difficult would be an understatement. Potions this year had proven to be increasingly challenging. You tried your best to review the material in your free time, but that combined with juggling your other classes and your social life was not an easy feat. You considered asking your friend Severus, who was practically a potions genius, for help, but given how serious he was about his academics, you feared doing so would only irritate him.

You just about had it. There was no way you’d memorize all the material for the next exam and pass. You decided to write down everything on a piece of parchment and hide it somehow so you could cheat discretely.

Finally. It was over. Of course, your guilty conscience kept telling you what a terrible mistake it was, but no one seemed to notice. Plus, what would happen if you really failed? You winced at the thought of having to repeat this class again next year, alone without any of your friends. "It was just one exam; I won't do it again," you told yourself. "Everyone does it at some point, right? By this time next year, this won’t even—"

Suddenly, you were stopped in your tracks as you felt a tight grip on the sleeve of your sweater.

"What the hell was that, Y/N?!"

Severus cornered you into the wall, locking eyes with you as he waited for an explanation.

"W-what was what?" you stammered.

"Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I saw what you did," he continued, refusing to lift his eyes off of you. "You weren’t exactly subtle, if that’s what you were even trying to be."

"Okay, fine!" you broke. "I cheated!"

He raised his eyebrows at you, almost proud of the fact that he caught you.

"Why do you even care? Everyone does it. Sorry we're not all intellectual like you. I needed to pass somehow. And it's not like I cheated off of you. What, are you going to report me now? Get me to fail the class, or worse, expelled?"

Though you were intensely defending yourself to the point of guilt-tripping him, you knew he was right (of course.) You were lucky it was only Severus and not your professor.

Finally, he released his grip on you, letting out a sigh. "Fine, I'll help you," he murmured, lowering his gaze to the floor.

"What?" You weren’t sure what you heard was right.

"If you really need it that badly, I'll help you! I'll tutor you."

"But, I didn't—"

"Meet me in the potions classroom tonight right after dinner. Be there on time," he commanded, centering his wand right on your chest.

Before you could get even a word out, he stormed off, gripping his books to his side, probably muttering some…choice words under his breath.

With the hallways now completely empty, you scoffed. "The nerve of him," you thought, rolling your eyes as you replayed the conversation in your head. You had to admit, though, under all that stern yelling, it was a kind gesture…Perhaps it'd be best to review some of the material beforehand so you wouldn't appear to be a complete idiot in front of the junior potion’s master.

You didn't forget about your little tutoring date after dinner. While everyone happily made their way back to their dorms, you dragged yourself to the designated meeting location, hoping he at least would forget among all the commotion.

Unsurprisingly, though, he was already there, seated with an array of supplies and ingredients scattered across the table.

"Do you usually come here on your own at night?" you joked, trying to break the ice as you took a seat next to him.

He clearly was not in the mood for any sort of amusement as he completely ignored your question. "We should get started. Just because we had an exam today, doesn't mean we get to slack off. The next one will be here before you know it, and—"

"Yes, I know, Severus. Obviously, I'm here because I want to get better. You already made it clear that I made a terrible decision earlier today," you snapped.

The expression on his face softened as he took a moment to process your reply, awkwardly clearing his throat. "R-right…Why don't you tell me which sections you'd like the most help with, and we can go from there?"

With the both of you now calmed down, you tried to get over your embarrassment and tell him everything. It wasn't easy being this vulnerable in front of someone who seemed to grasp any and every subject so easily, but he was intently listening, this time more curiously and even…empathetically?

"I can't exactly blame you for finding the material confusing. As I attempted to make these potions myself, I realized many of the instructions aren’t as descriptive as they should be, and in some cases, wrong. I’ve taken corrective notes that I’ll share them with you, and we can follow along…"

You fully expected everything he'd say to go over your head, making this a waste of time for not only you but him, as well. But, to your surprise, everything was kind of starting to make sense! Severus may have been a quiet student, but when he did talk, words were not wasted; he always found a way to describe his thoughts clearly and concisely. Oh, and that voice of his…he could make even the most mundane of topics sound exciting.

As he was speaking, you couldn’t take his eyes off of him. His glittering eyes, smirks that could pass for actual smiles, and expressive eyebrows made it clear he was actually quite passionate about potions. No wonder he was so good at it.

"Y/N?" he asked abruptly. "Is what I'm saying making sense so far?"

"Oh…yes," you responded, hoping he couldn't tell you were actually enjoying this.

"Why don’t we get to actually brewing some potions then? This is, after all, a subject where one typically learns best by doing."

Hesitating, you pulled the ingredients toward you, carefully reviewing his notes before preparing them accordingly. For a moment, you were more focused on how elegant and neat his handwriting was.

You could feel your heart flutter as his hands made their way to yours, guiding you with the lightest of touch so that you wouldn’t accidentally hurt yourself. "Yes, just like that," he commented, barely leaving a gap between you two as he watched you intently. "You're doing quite well, actually."

You shifted slightly in an attempt to hide your cheeks, which only continued to grow redder throughout the night, and covered your mouth in case you accidentally squealed.

"Y/N, you should look directly at what you're doing. Precision and accuracy are very important in potions. Also, you shouldn't touch your face when your hands are still dirty!"

Severus was right when he said you were not very good at being subtle…This time, though, he seemed more concerned for your safety and well-being instead of simply accusing you of doing something wrong.

"Oh, there’s some slime near your mouth. Let me wipe that off for you." He grabbed a napkin and gently cleaned the corner of your lips. At this point, you'd be lucky if he didn't hear the sound of your heart thumping rapidly against your chest, ready to fall out into his hands.

Before you knew it, it was almost time to go to bed. You managed to accomplish more than you expected, and you started to understand why he enjoyed this subject so much.

"Well, we should probably end here. We can continue tomorrow if you'd like, but I'm seeing improvements from you already. I think if you had even just a little bit more confidence in yourself, you'd—"

Fuck it.

You grabbed his face, hands stained from all the chopping and squeezing, and planted a kiss on his nose. "Thank you, Severus. This was actually incredibly helpful. You’re really sweet, you know that?"

With your palms still cupping his cheeks, he almost tripped, finding it difficult to maintain even a second of eye contact with you. "O-oh, of course, any time, it's no pro-problem," he rambled on.

"Hey, maybe as a thank you for taking the time to help me, I can help you out."

"With...what exactly?"

"Lucky for you, I'm actually an expert at snogging. Meet me at the library tomorrow right after dinner. And don't be late."

#snape #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape fanfiction #snape fic #snape fluff #severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fic #severus snape fluff

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auteurdelabre · 4 months

Text

Please, Mister Miller? (Part 3) mean!Joel x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: after two filthy interludes with your married best friend’s dad, you decide that you’re done chasing after him. A day of baking proves. . . interesting.

warnings/tags: Infidelity, oral sex [f receiving], Mean Joel, Dirty Talk, almost caught, nicknames (good girl, slut)

word count: 3.0 k

a/n: Y'all, I did a filthy one-shot and I got comments requesting it be a series and because I can’t deny ya’ll anything, I did a part two and here’s an equally filthy part 3. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

masterlist here

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"You gotta cover for me," Sarah whispers to you in the guest room. You’re just finishing brushing your hair as you look at her.

“For what this time?”

“I’m telling them I'm going to do some last minute Christmas shopping but I'm going to see Charlie."

"The secret boyfriend?" You smirk. Sarah blushes nodding. She glances over your shoulder to make sure her parents aren’t there then looks back at you, her eye bright with excitement.

"Yeah. So can you cover? I think they said they were gonna do some Christmas baking."

"You want me to hang out with your parents by myself? Won't that be weird?"

But even as you say this you feel your abdomen twist pleasurably. An afternoon of brushing up against Joel, "accidentally" grazing him as he works alongside his wife. You wonder if you can get him hard in the middle of it.

"Nah, Tess loves you,” Sarah insists. “She was saying that she hopes you come back with me for spring break."

“Really?”

You feel your pussy clench almost painfully at the thought. It's sick to be this turned on at the thought of future trysts with Joel, especially when he's made it very clear how much he doesn't want to cheat again.

Joel glances up when you and Sarah come into the kitchen. It smells really good inside the warm room, like cinnamon and vanilla. It’s been cleaned and organized. Ingredients sit amongst bowls on the center island. Joel is behind it, shooting his daughter a dazzling smile and ignoring you entirely.

"Ready to do some baking, babygirl?"

"I can't dad; I have to meet up with Anne. I promised I'd give her that Christmas gift. Then I have to get a few last minute things for stockings."

"Oh."

You don't miss the hurt in Joel's eyes and for a fleeting moment you feel really sorry for him. You almost consider talking Sarah out of her covert plan when Tess comes from around the corner, pulling her jacket on and beaming at everyone.

"You need a ride honey?" She asks Sarah, having just overheard Sarah's plans. "I have to drop by the office real quick so I can drop you."

"Nah I'm looking forward to the walk," Sarah says shooting you a terse smile. You hold in a giggle.

"Okay. I'm gonna grab some groceries for dinner on my way home," Tess says looking over at you and Joel. "Any requests?"

You and Joel shake your head,

"I can't wait to eat that shortbread you've been promising me," Tess says pressing a kiss to Joel's cheek. Joel forces a smile, watching Tess heading out; both of you watching the two of them exit out the door.

As soon as the door is closed and locked you feel your skin prickle. It's just you and Joel left in the house.

You turn, eyes drifting along his broad shoulders, grey t-shirt pulled tight over his biceps. His jeans are stonewash and they fit him snugly.

Joel is staring at the collection of baking supplies on the island counter. He looks pretty defeated and you assume he's upset about Sarah ditching him.

"I'll bake with you," you offer kindly.

Joel's head snaps up and he scowls at you. "I won't be in this house with you alone."

"Won't it look kinda weird when they get back and you haven't done any baking?" You postulate. "Won't they wonder what we did the whole time?"

Joel goes to say something but then pauses, hands clenched at his sides. He's silently stewing and you take advantage by walking over to the island.

"We can just bake," you offer with a shrug, glancing over at the items gathered on the counter. "I've never made shortbread before. Could be fun."

"I don't trust a goddam thing that comes out of your mouth," Joel snarls.

"You just like what comes in it, I suppose," you smirk, facing away from him.

You're trying so hard not to laugh as you begin to set up the bowls. You feel reckless, even giddy. There is such a dark amusement in this entire enterprise, trying to act normal after all tou and Joel have done.

You can hear Joel fuming behind you, muttering something angrily under his breath. You lean over the island to pluck the recipe card between your fingertips. You scan the small cardstock, reading it over quickly. The recipe is simple, straightforward.

"Doesn't look that complicated."

Joel watches you busy yourself pulling out bowls and mixers from one of the lower cupboards. He gives gruff one-word answers when you ask where spatulas are. His broad arms are crossed over his chest, staring at you as you flit around his kitchen.

When you have all the items ready on the counter you glance up to see him still glaring at you, eyes burning.

"Are you just going to stand there the whole time?"

Joel doesn't reply, just grits his teeth together. You see his jaw bulge and you exhale sharply through your nose.

Suddenly you're irritated. He makes it seem like he doesn't like this but you can already see him semi hard in his jeans. And yet he hangs back, his shoulder tilted against the wall.

"If you're that afraid of me just go to your room," you say rolling your eyes. "I'll be fine. I'll tell them you helped me."

"You don't tell me what to do in my goddam house," Joel snaps at you. He's still standing at the far end of the kitchen, watching you reproachfully.

"Oh for fucks sake, I'm not gonna try anything," you tell him honestly. "Chasing after you is getting dull."

The gauntlet has been tossed. It's a long shot, but it's true, being used by Joel is fun but not very fulfilling. You want his mouth on your cunt, you want him fucking you because he's wanting to. But it's clear he isn't going to do that without prodding.

You turn away and after several moments you have a good batter mixing in the bowl. You start to hum along to the radio, your attention on the task at hand. You’re ignoring Joel, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Joel relaxes, but still looks wary as he slowly approaches you, pushing the butter across the counter when mention you need to start to measure it into the bowls.

There's a companionable silence, the sound of the radio playing Christmas favorites weaves around you both. It's almost nice.

You forget for a moment that Joel doesn't trust you. You forget that you're trying to seduce your best friend’s dad. For a moment it just feels nice and homey and it reminds you how you own family doesn't care that you're not home for the holidays. It makes you remember how Conrad dumped you.

"You okay?"

You glance up confused at Joel's quiet inquiry. Joel makes a motion to his cheek and you drag your fingers to your own. You’re surprised to feel them damp.

"Sorry," you say wiping at your eyes embarrassed. "Just... Holidays are hard."

Joel doesn't say anything, but his shoulders relax. He nods, helping you to form the dough on the cooking tray. And soon an a while has passed with the two of you opposite each other at the island, eyes on what you’re doing.

"Just gotta sift some icing sugar on the top," you say with a pleased smile. You turn back, walking to the upper cupboards over the sink before pausing.

"You know where it is?" You ask, looking over your shoulder at him. Joel is pressed right up against the kitchen island, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes.

"Top shelf."

You nod your attention back to the cupboard. You reach up, standing on your tip toes. It's a high shelf and despite your straining arm and fingers you can't reach it. You tilt, giving a soft grunt as you try again, one foot lifting off the ground.

You can feel your snowflake skirt inching up to expose just a slight peek of your ass. Of course you haven't worn panties, not when you're in the same house as Joel. You feel guilty, especially since you two had been getting along so well.

You tense but you can feel Joel's eyes there, sliding over this sliver of flesh before you lower your arm sharply, the skirt falling back down over your ass..

And suddenly the entire mood shifts. The friendly air is gone, replaced with a thrumming heat that you can both feel, almost taste.

"I can't reach," you say breathily, unable to look at him.

You hear him slowly move over the kitchen floor, footsteps heavy. His warm breath is on the back of your neck, the warmth of his body bleeding into yours. If you reached back you'd be able to touch his broad frame directly behind you.

His jeans are rough against the back of your thighs. He presses you tightly against the counter until you're breathless as he moves forward. You feel him reaching up, broad hand bringing the bag down to your shaking grasp.

"T-thanks."

"Mhmmm."

You place the icing sugar bag on the counter, hands trembling. You don't think you have the strength to hold it right now.

You wait for Joel to pull back. To say something rude about not fucking you. But he's still there, warm and you can feel the drag of his clothed cock against the swell of your ass.

"Need anything else?"

"No," you whisper, swallowing.

This entire exchange feels different. He feels different. It's not hurried or frenetic It makes you feel vulnerable, no longer in control of the situation.

"You sure?" His voice is at your ear, rumbling. "You don't need anything else?"

You say nothing as he lifts the skirt up, dragging the fabric up over the globes of your ass, humming lowly in his throat when he sees you're naked underneath. You brace yourself on the counter, eyes slamming shut. It feels good to be openly desired by Joel.

"Fucking dirty girl," Joel murmurs, but there's no malice in it. Just heavy lust.

His broad hands go to your ass cheeks, gripping, pulling them apart luridly and letting the flesh fall, watching it jiggle for him. He groans, head tilting forward as he does it again, until his head is over your shoulder.

"Gonna ask you one more time," Joel rasps against your temple. "You need anything else?"

You twist your head until his eyes meet yours. Your voice is breathy, uneven. You can see the depths of Joel's eyes, dark and beckoning.

"Your cock."

"That it?"

"Your mouth."

"Good girl."

You let out a sharp yelp as he twists you to face him. His eyes are blazing and you can't help but swallow at the determination in them. You gasp when he bends, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs, hefting you over one of his broad shoulders.

You feel dizzy, limp as a rag doll as he carries you into the dining room, his breathing sharp through his nostrils. He stops at the formal dining table, slowly pulling you off from his shoulder and laying you down atop it.

You're on your elbows, confused as you look up at him, your lower back flush with the cool wood.

"Joel, what the fuck-"

"What did I tell you?" Joel warns, pushing you by the sternum back on the table until your entire spine is flush with the mahogany. "You call me Mister Miller."

You're about to bite back when his hands are rubbing up your thighs and your skirt is lifted. You feel the cool air hit your dripping cunt. He’s staring at you, face stoic.

"Yes, Mister Miller," you murmur. Joel's hands slide from your thighs, coming to brace on the glossy wood on either side of your hips, pinning your hands under his palms.

"Open for me," Joel demands. "You show me that pretty pussy. She better be glistening.”

You don't hesitate, your thighs parting for him immediately. You don't miss the tongue that darts out to wet his full lower lip. You know why he has you on the dining room table now, because he intends to devour you.

"Good girl."

He pulls up the chair behind him, settling into it with a creak. Your body jerks as he grips your ankles pulling your hips towards him at the edge of the table. You keen as his hands spread your legs, his eyes stuck between your thighs.

"So fucking pretty," Joel murmurs. You arch as he drags a knuckle down the seam of your cunt. "You have such a pretty cunt, baby."

You feel yourself whimpering at his unexpected praise, at being called baby. You allow him to maneuver your legs over his wide shoulders, exposing you.

His head cranes forward and you gasp loudly at the sensation of Joel licking a sinful stripe up the center of your cunt. His curls brush your inner thigh, beard rasping against your folds as you mewl above him.

"You like that," he observes with a smile. His hands are still pinning yours to the table, your fingers curling.

"Yes Mister Miller."

You glance down your body, watching him there smirking between your legs. He chuckles and you feel it reverberate against your pussy.

"She's so wet for me," Joel groans. "Tastes so fucking sweet."

His hands leave yours and come to rest over your hips, holding you steady. You go to reach your fingers to card through his hair.

"Keep your hands on the table," he orders you, mouth wet. You don't argue, you press the palms flat on either side of you.

And then he goes back to kissing your pussy, tasting you as you writhe on the table. The table that you all ate breakfast at this morning. The same table you'll eat dinner around tonight, your cheeks warm as you recall what's happening right now.

"Feels so good, Mister Miller," you moan, body arching against his mouth.

Joel hums against your clit in response, pulling it into his mouth, gently nibbling as you cry out. It makes your body tingle all over, pulling your orgasm from you.

"Gonna come," you whimper, hands aching to come off the table.

"Course you are," Joel smiles. "Coming on my tongue quick like a good girl. Gonna gimme a good one?"

"Uh huh. Promise."

"Better ask nicely then."

"Please let me come Mister Miller," you beg, hips canting against his mouth. "Need to come."

Joel's hands are spreading you further, keeping you exposed as he laves at your clit. Just as you feel yourself cresting he pulls away, grinning when you whimper a cry.

"Please Mister Miller!" You wail, looking down your body to see his dark, glittering eyes on you, his mouth moving languidly on your cunt. "I've been a good girl for you!"

"Been a bad girl too," Joel tells you, tongue giving your hole a long lick. You shudder, feeling desperate to unravel under his mouth.

"I'll be so good," you promise in a broken sob. "Please!'

"How're you gonna be good for me?"

"You can fuck me however you want," you whimper, eyes wet as he brings you close only to remove his mouth at the last second again. "Wherever you want. I'll do anything you want, please just let me come Mister Miller!"

Joel grins between your legs before giving you a sultry wink from between your legs.

"Alright then," he says with a growl. "I'll remember that."

Suddenly his hot mouth engulfs your pussy once more, tongue fucking you, circling around your swollen clit.

"Yes!" You cry out, hands coming to grip Joel's hair without thinking. Your hips rut against his mouth. "Oh fuck! Yes!"

You come, body arching so aggressively your head slams back into the table. You buck, hands flying back to the table as you remember yourself. Joel's hands slide under your ass, gripping handfuls as he buried his face further between your legs. His nose grazes your clit. When he feels you come down he pulls back long enough to order:

"Gimme another one."

You do. You don't even think about it. You're already so close to it that when his mouth circles back around your clit you come with abandon, ass gripped by Joel as he growls into your pussy, lapping there as he swallows what you offer him.

Moments later you're both panting, you still on the table, legs spread. Joel kisses your inner thighs, one peck each, pulling them from his shoulders looking dazed.

"That was really..." You blink, feeling dizzy. Joel gives a crooked smile.

"Yeah."

"What about you?" You ask, eyes drawing to the bulge in his jeans. It looks like it's painfully hard. Joel glances over your body slowly, leaving a scorching trail along your body.

"You ever used a belt-"

The front door clicks open and Tess' voice calls out from the front of the house.

"Joel honey? Can you help with the groceries?"

You both look in the direction of the front door, hearts pounding.

"Fuck," Joel swears under his breath. Perspiration is dotting his forehead as he adjusts himself in his jeans. Your skirt is pulled back down and he helps you down from the table as he calls back to Tess.

"Course baby. Just finishing up these cookies."

You stand looking up into Joel's face.

"I owe you one," you promise him with a cheeky smile.

A curl pulls at the corner of his mouth before he goes back to his normal recalcitrant self.

"We'll see."

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