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#I'm going to bake some cookies now
becca-e-barnes · 9 months
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I've been way too into hot wife stuff at the minute, I blame Serenity Cox and it got me thinking about being Steve's wife but he's really into watching you with Bucky.
Most of the appeal for Steve is that you and Bucky really degrade him. He gets to watch his little wife cum on his best friend's cock while you both taunt him and he never thought he'd be into it the way that he is.
"Your girl's so fuckin' tight, Steve." Bucky pants, slowing his thrusts into you because if he keeps up his current pace, he'll cum faster than he wants to. "Does Stevie fill you the way I do? Bet he can't. He's not as big as me."
You shake your head, staring right at Steve. "Not even close. You're pathetic, aren't you Stevie? You'd rather watch me get fucked by your best friend."
You know it's mean but Steve fucking loves it. He's cum four times already and he's still jerking himself off. It's like he just can't stop and it's so thrilling to see him enjoy this as much as he is.
"I'm gonna cum in your girl, Steve. Gonna make you watch me stuff her so full. Just imagine your pretty little wife with my cum dripping out of her greedy cunt. If you're lucky, she might let you fuck her after I'm finished." Bucky's not usually so vulgar but God, it works wonders for both you and Steve.
"I don't know. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to fuck Steve again." Hearing you say that sends Steve over the edge, spilling a fresh load all over himself while he groans pathetically and even then, he doesn't stop.
"I can't blame you. Now you know how it feels to be fucked right. Felt you cum on me more times than I can count." Bucky's not wrong but his excitement is building and you feel his pace start to falter.
"Fuck, oh fuck." You whimper, feeling the first few pulses of his cock and the unmistakable feeling of his load splashing into your eager body. You've needed this. You were desperate for it and after a second you realise neither of you needed it more than Steve did.
"Good girl, fuckin' take it. I can't stop." Bucky groans, pressed as deep inside you as he can get, pumping his cum right to your cervix. He cums for what feels like an eternity and it's pure bliss.
By the time he's finished, Steve is trembling with need once more.
"If you don't want your wife knocked up with your best friend's baby, I suggest you get to work." You tease, pressing Steve back on the bed and repositioning yourself so you're sitting on his face, letting his best friend's cum drip out of you and into his eager, waiting mouth.
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ssvnormandie · 5 months
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we're doing a cookie competition at work where everyone in the department is supposed to bake one to two dozen cookies .... there are forty-six people in the department
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alrighty, folks, it's time for a starter call! these won't be one-liners but at least a paragraph instead, so please specify a muse or a few muses you won't mind ( though if you're a multimuse, you can just specify your own muse to make it easier on you ). it's never a big deal if you don't specify!! it just might take me longer to get to your starter if my brain gets indecisive uvu
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isfjmel-phleg · 1 year
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*
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xandrikart · 1 year
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Hope you all had a great Christmas! And I wish you a happy New Year~
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blue-hi · 4 months
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i want a little sweet treat
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sappy-af · 7 months
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i'm not feeling very silly at the moment...bells hells' adoptive dad (lord eshteross) just died and he left his prized cookie recipe for the gang, what am i supposed to do with all this pain in my chest? 😭
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hedgehog-moss · 2 months
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Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.
I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then
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Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.
I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:
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I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.
He agreed, so I left.
I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.
But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!
Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)
I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"
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The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)
I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."
I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.
Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."
"What fire?"
He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)
And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.
When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.
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I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)
The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.
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I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 7 months
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Butter
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: None
Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.
Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️
Word count: 3.6k
Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️
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September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.
It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.
If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.
Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.
You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.
‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’
You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’
‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’
Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’
You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’
‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’
Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’
‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’
You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down. 
Especially when the man looks like this.
Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’
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‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern. 
‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’
When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’
‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’
He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’
‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.
He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’
‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’
He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’
‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’
‘Two, actually.’
Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.
Interesting.
You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’
‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’
Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’
The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’
You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’
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You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.
Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’
‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.
Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’
You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’
Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.
The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.
There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.
‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.
‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.
You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’
He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’
‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’
If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.
‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’
Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’
He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.
‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’
He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’
Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’
‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.
You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips. 
‘Can I, now?’ he teases.
You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’
Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.
‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’
He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’
You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it. 
Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’
He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’
You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’
Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’
You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’
‘Sarah.’
‘What colour does Sarah like?’
‘Any and all shades of pink.’
‘I can work with that.’
Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’
Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’
Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’
He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’
You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.
‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.
Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘
‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’
‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.
You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’
‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.
‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’
‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’
‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’
‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.
‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.
‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’
Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.
‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.
‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’
‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’
Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.
You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’
‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’
‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’
‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’
‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’
Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.
‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’
‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’
‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’
‘You been?’
‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’
You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’
‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’
‘Fourth, actually.’
He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’
‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’
He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’
You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’
When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’
‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.
Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’
‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.
‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.
'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.
'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.
You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.
Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard. 
You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out. 
‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’
He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.
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You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.
‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.
But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’
Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’
Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’
When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.
‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.
‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we���re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’
You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’
Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’
You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’
You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’
‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.
He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’
‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’
Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’
‘How?’
Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’
‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’
‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.
You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’
He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’
Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’
Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’
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More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...
The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳
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malusokay · 2 years
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30 Things To Do Alone
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Go for a walk. I've been trying to reach 10k steps daily.
Read a book, article, or blog... just like you're doing right now. ;)
Watch a tv show. I'm currently watching Gilmore girls.
Watch the sunset/sunrise. I prefer sunsets.
Try a youtube workout. Daisy Keech is my favorite!
Do your nails. Nice nails make a vast difference in my opinion.
Go to the grocery store and buy some snacks that you've never tried before.
Try a new recipe. I'm trying carrot cake oatmeal later!
Write a letter to your future self. <3
Test old pens and throw away the dry ones.
Make a birthday wishlist. one of my favorite things to do when I'm bored and have nothing to do.
Take the 16 Personalities test. I'm an ENFP :)
Make a bucket list. I just started writing my autumn bucket list!
Research something or watch a video essay on youtube. One of my favorite channels at the moment is Mina Le.
Make a mood/vision board. You can check out my Twitter or Tumblr for some inspiration.
Scroll Pinterest for the next 6+ hours; we've all been there.
Take a long bath. Do a full skin/hair care routine.
Cut/dye your hair. I just cut curtain bangs, and I'm loving it!!
Bake something for a loved one; I made lemon-poppy seed cookies for my Dad.
Create a new playlist. I've started making an autumn playlist, lol.
Make a photo wall. I made one last year and still love it!
Accomplished your to-do list, and you'll feel great once you're done.
Get rid of old clothes, make room for new stuff.
Go to a new coffee shop and get something to try.
Learn how to crochet. I made a sweater for my dog, lmao.
Make yourself a drink, like a tea, coffee, or smoothie!
Declutter your digital space. (emails, photos, apps, etc...)
Make your room cozy and take a nap, or just relax for a bit.
Plan some outfits and look for things to buy online.
Apply a facemask and watch a coming-of-age movie. (my guilty pleasure, lol..)
Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments! <3
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
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frogchiro · 2 months
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I feel bad for Butcher!Simon so I had an idea for him or Carpenter!König (the idea you gave me for my Shopkeeper!COD AU because he is so pathetic)
Now the idea is something for Valentine's Day
You love your favourite, pervy shop owner but have not had the courage yet to ask him out as he is so rough and gruff on the exterior to the point you think you are annoying him. So for Valentine's Day since your date turned you down you decided to dress up for you favourite shop owner as you do not see any ring on his finger!
You wear a cute, pastel dress that hugs you curves nicely to show off your figure and chub to hopefully grab their attention especially with the low cut neckline that shows off your breasts as they are pushed up by your push-up bra
You go into the shop and go over the counter to see them working. You ask little questions at first before you start complaining about being alone and how sad you are because you were hoping your date could be your future husband and father of your children which drives him up the wall by making his balls oh so tight as all they can think of is making you a mother after seeing your breasts
By the end of the night you are in his bed and having him empty his balls into you. And a few months later you have a little baby on your hips named after the holiday that blessed you with them
I'm going into this with Carpenter!König bc this just screams him and I haven't written for him in a long while <3
He's the town's loner, living on the far outskirts of the small, rural town and owns a carpentry shop that's quite well known around the area since his furniture is sturdy and very well made. However, people still generally tend to avoid him due to his massive, towering size and how he just 'unsettles people' with his stare and mysterious past, supposedly in the military.
But you never heeded the whispered rumors about the huge man, always smiling at him on the few occasions he was in town, you even took to order furniture from him yourself, always bringing him something sweet you baked as a thank you <3
Unknowingly to you, König started developing rather strong feelings for the sweet and kind girl with treats him like a normal human and not an anomaly like the rest of the town people. His lonely nights where he only had his hand and some old, crusted porn magazine are now replaced with fantasies of you, how sugar sweet you'd taste like the cookies you bring him, how your whines and squeals of pleasure would fill the empty wooden cabin :((
König swore he almost came in his pants on the spot when you waltzed into his cabin, on Valentine's Day, dressed in that cute pastel dress with a low neckline, your soft tits almost spilling over it as you sigh and whine about how this day brings out all the lonely in you, how everyone around you seems to be in happy relationships but you and you just don't get it :(( You'd love to take care of a nice partner! Maybe even mother a baby and knowing König, his domesticity/breeding kink shot through the roof with his full, aching balls squeezing almost painfully at the mention of you being a housewife :/
One thing leads to another, your feeling as they turned out to be very mutual and before you know it, the giant man has you in a mean mating press in his bed, the sheets and a few furs for keeping warm drenched in his strong, masculine musk which only makes you whine more, who knows what this beast was fantasizing about while laying here :((
This was officially the best Valentine's Day you both ever had, not only as the beginning of your beautiful, loving relationship but also the day where your little baby girl, the big, chubby and giggly Valentina, was conceived <3
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 7 months
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dress - m. murdock
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a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."
Foggy is so mad at him.
You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.
You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.
So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?
He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?
He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.
You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.
So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.
Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.
He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!
By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.
And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.
So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.
It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.
He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.
He breaks up with the girl the next day.
• • •
And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.
You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.
It was nice to be wanted.
But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.
And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.
“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?
“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.
“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.
“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.”  You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.
“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”
“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.
“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.
• • •
Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.
And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.
“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”
“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.
“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.
After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.
So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.
“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.
“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.
He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.
Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.
You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.
He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.
And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.
“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.
“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.
And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.
You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.
“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”
Speak of the devil.
You turn back to him and smile.
“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.
“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.
“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”
He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.
But that’s not really what you’re asking.
“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”
“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.
“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.
It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.
Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.
And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.
“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.
You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.
Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.
“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.
He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.
You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.
“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.
“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.
“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.
“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.
“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.
“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”
“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.
“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.
“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”
“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...”  He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.
“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.
He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.
“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.
“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.
“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.
“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.
He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.
“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.
“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.
“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.
“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.
“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”
“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.
“And now I just want you more.”
The feeling is mutual.
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inkdrinkerworld · 17 days
Note
ok you've heard of James giving reader princess treatment, but what about reader gives James some princess treatment? I'm a sucker for reverse comfort so anything along that line would be nice.
Kinda did rugby!james for this cos I miss him!!!
“James Fleamont Potter, sit down or so help me.” You’ve been trying to get your tired boyfriend to sit between your legs so you could massage his head.
He’d been brushing it off like nothing.
James had a taxing couple of days, training for the upcoming season was draining him of every ounce of energy he’d had and you’d cleared both your Friday nights in favor of taking care of him.
You’d baked his favourite chocolate chunk cookies- the ones with toffee and brown butter, made margherita pizza, another of his favourites and you’d made a cup of tea for him.
Now he was refusing any more of your doting.
“Angel, I’m fine. Feel better, thank you for this evening.”
He tries kissing you but you turn your head at the last minute making him kiss your cheek.
“You’re not using your kisses and cute pet names to distract me. Sit your butt down so I can oil your hair.”
James smirks, kissing your forehead before taking another sip of his tea. “Whatever you want, angel.”
You roll your eyes, but your belly pools with heat at the simple affection.
You start like you do your own hair, finding the crown of James’ head. With a flat palm, you press coconut oil into his head, watching him sigh and his shoulders drop.
“Let me know if I catch any tangles, Jamie.” He hums but you know he won’t say anything.
Given that, you apply gentle pressure to his scalp as you massage, the oil helping your fingers along smoothly.
“Feels nice,” his voice is soft, like a whisper in a passing breeze and you smile. “Thanks, lovey.”
You kiss the nape of his neck as you carry on for ten more minutes. By the time you’re done, James’ shoulders aren’t as tight and his eyes are hazy.
“You have magic fingers, lovey.” His voice sounds gravelly and you have to try really hard to keep the corner of your mouth from picking up.
“Thank you Jamie, take a nap yeah? Then we can go wash your hair baby.” Your hands rub his back as he settles on you, his breath fanning over your chest.
“Thanks for taking care of me, m’heart.”
“Always, Jamie baby. Always.”
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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months
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Cookies & Cream
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pairing: nerd!seonghwa x reader
wordcount: 2,7k
content: your tutor helps himself to the cookies in your bag despite you telling him countless times no, without knowing what they really are.
warnings: nsfw, aphrodisiacs, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest or other gendered terms) dom!reader, sub!seonghwa, use of pet names (baby, love), unprotected sex (wrap it ☝️) mentions of food, mentions of sex toys, blow job, cunnilingus (pussy ATE 🗣), edging, some body worship, lmk if there's anything else
Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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You had told Seonghwa that on the way to his dorm for a study session, you'd be picking up snacks to get you through the next few dreaded hours. Not that you dreaded spending time with seonghwa, the boy was a pleasure to look at, big brown eyes smiling at you every time you grasped a concept thanks to his help; the warmth of his body engulfing yours when he leant over you to help with a question.
Okay, that wasn't so much helpful as it was distracting, but you liked it nonetheless. You wondered if Seonghwa had any relationship experience, because of the way he was oblivious to almost every move anyone made on him, and would turn fire engine-red when he heard you talk about anything slightly sexual. From your observations, you had concluded that this man has probably never felt the touch of a lover. Still he was a lovely boy, sweet and innocent,,, it kind of did something for you.
“Did you get me turtle chips?” Seonghwa questioned through the front door.
“No 'hello y/n! You made it! Nice to see you'? What did you do with my sweet seonghwa?” you sighed at him, knowing you bought him both the originals, and the churro version. Pretending to not notice the blush on his cheeks, likely caused by the 'my sweet seonghwa' comment, you strolled passed him till you reached your regular spot on the sofa. You pulled the snacks out one by one, watching the joy on Seonghwa's face as you brought all of his favourites to last him until the next session.
“What's in the tub?” seonghwa eyed the plastic tub you had put bag into your bag after pulling the rest of the drinks out.
“Cookies I made, and before you ask, no you can't have any.” you warn.
Seonghwa pouts like his life depends on it, devastated as he adores home-baked goods, especially the ones you make for him. "Why? Who are they for?? Are you seeing someone after me?” he blurts out a little too desperately.
“Why? You jealous, Hwa?” you smirk at him, watching him turn red once again at your words.
“I'm not jealous! I was… just worried because it'll be late by the time you leave, I don't want you wandering around at night…” he gets quieter with each word.
Ah shit, you feel kind of guilty now. You stood up to walk over to the table where always study together, ruffling his hair as you go. “Oh, Hwa, I'm going straight back home after this, don't worry your sweet little head,” you reassure his worrying.
You hadn't realised your tutor had cared so much about you, before this you didn't even know if he considered you friends. Your stomach fluttered at the idea, knowing that seonghwa didn't have many people he considered friends, you could count them all in one hand.
He huffed and pulled out his chair, handing you the test papers you had filled last session, with red pen markings on it showing you where to improve.
“You did really well, if you keep this up you'll be passing with flying colours. I added a couple suggestions on where you can expand on points, but otherwise, you did an amazing job y/n.” He smiles softly at you, proud that your hard work has been paying off.
After an hour of going over some new material from your classes with him, you decide to take a break to stretch and eat the food you brought. Although, you both had already cleared a bag of turtle chips and a bowl of M&Ms in that time, as well as a bottle of your favourite drink.
“Hwa I'm going to the bathroom, ill be back in a minute” you announced to your friend as you walked down the hallway to his spotless bathroom; you always admired how clean seonghwa was, sometimes he'd even help you with yours when you held study sessions there.
Honestly, seonghwa was still hung up on why you didn't let him eat the cookies in your bag, the clear container told him there was way more than you could eat on your own,,,
Surely—you wouldn't notice if one was missing…right?
The boy looked over to the hallway, listening to the sound of you—fighting the shower curtain? He couldn't tell, but you sounded busy. He turned his head back to your bag and reached in, opening the tub and taking one…must've okay three cookies, stuffing them in his mouth and chewing them as fast as he could. They tasted like heaven, he could tell they were a little different from your regular ones, you must've tried a new recipe? Maybe that's why you were so adamant about him not having any? Whatever it was, it was hardly noticeable, the crispy marshmallows taking over his taste buds. He quite literally moaned at the taste, almost annoyed that he nearly missed out on this.
He washed them down with the strawberry milk he kept stocked and put everything back where it was, just as you walked out of the bathroom.
“Alright, what have we got left?” you looked at the boy standing by his chair.
“Uh, we”, Seonghwa went to answer your question but his brain completely blanked. “We were…” he looked at the table to remember where you had left off, but you had already his noticed is off demeanour.
“Hwa, you good?” you tilted your head at the boy, watching him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“I'm great y/n! Lets, uh, get back to the work?” he avoided looking in your direction, his body feeling funny - fuck, what did you put in those cookies? He thought.
“Hwa. What did you just say? Did you—Did you eat the cookies I told you not to!?” You started raising your voice at him, more worried about him than anything.
“I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice if a few were gone…” he says under his breath, feeling overwhelmingly heavy. His emotions feeling all too strong to the point where he feels a tear rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. His core felt like hot coals, and his skin more painfully tender than he had ever experienced in his life.
"Sit down, I'm gonna get you some water… I know this is a weird question, but are you seeing anybody currently that I can call?" you already knew the answer, but you didn't want to risk it.
"Wh-what? No, I'm not seeing anybody y/n, why would you need to-" He huffed out a groan as his sweatpants grew tighter and rubbed against his swelling hard on.
"Okay, those cookies you just ate? They're aphrodisiac cookies, I hadn't even had a chance to test them out, I was going to when I got home…" you reluctantly looked at Seonghwa's horrified expression, mixed with sweat forming on his brow. You watched as he fidgeted and pulled at his irritating clothing, his hips rutting and bucking subtly against nothing.
"Hwa you wouldn't happen to have any… sex toys, would you? I can go to the pharmacy and pick some up, It's not far." you already start grabbing his spare set of keys and your jacket to leave, if you went now it would only take 8 minutes-
"In the bottom drawer of my desk, can you help me get to my room?" Oh. So he wasn't as innocent as you thought. He reached out for you, barely able to stand by himself now, his legs feeling like they would crumble under his weight. As you wrapped Seonghwa's arm over your shoulder, pulling him up, he pressed his body against yours, resting his head on your shoulder. God, the scent of you was making him harder, barely restraining himself from biting your neck while you walked him to his bedroom.
He slumped into his bed, not waiting any longer to take his shirt off. He wanted to burn the damn thing now, the material felt torturous on his sensitive nipples. You looked at him in awe, his blushing body making your mouth dry and your hands ache to feel him under them.
"Well, I'm gonna go-"
"No."
You looked at him in confusion, seeing his darkened eyes filled with desire, "What do you mean, no?"
"The least you could do is help me...please?"
That's all you needed to jump into his lap and connect your lips. The kiss was filled with desperation, teeth bumping and tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance in your mouths. You grind against his aching cock, dragging a whine from his sweet voice.
"Sweatpants off, now Hwa" need dripping from each word, you didn't have to tell seonghwa twice. He lifted his hips up on the bed, and he pulled them off with your help. You took a moment to take in his figure. He was gorgeous, I mean, you already knew that, but lying here looking so desperate for your touch gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him; and you would do just that. You leant down between his legs to his stiff cock, kitten licking his soaked tip.
"Oh fuck," He squirmed under your tongue, hips trying to buck into your mouth for more. You held his hips down as you took him fully to the back of your throat. He cried out sweet whimpers at the feeling of your mouth around his cock, taken away all too quickly as you came back up for air. He didn't have to suffer for too long, though, as you formed a steady rhythm with your hand.
"I'm gonna cum y/n it feels too good," tears rolled down his reddened cheeks.
You took his cock out of your mouth with a pop, "love, we just started, I can't have you cumming that quickly now, can I?" untying the string of your own sweats, pulling them down with your underwear, exposing your bottom half to seonghwa. His member twitching and leaking at just the sight of you.
"You're my tutor, shouldn't you be helping me, hm? Why don't you let me sit on your face, and you can show me how to make someone cum, baby?"
Hwa had a habit of swiping his tongue against his lip when he was thinking, or doing anything and fuck, he was so sexy about it. It fuelled so many wet dreams and solo sessions, you couldn't wait to feel it in action.
God, he did not disappoint. He swiped his tongue across your soaking cunt, swirling around your swollen clit. You cried out at the sensations of him ravaging you as you stimulated your clit on the tip of his nose, while he fucked your starving hole with his long tongue. It didn't take long for the pressure in the pit of your stomach to build, you barely had time to warn seonghwa before you came on his tongue. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and rocked your hips against his face as you rode out your high.
You admired his fucked out face, your arousal still across his mouth and nose, and leaned over to kiss him again. “Okay, it's only fair you have your turn Hwa, ready baby?”
He could only whine out your name and beg for you to fuck him, he was so ethereal in this state. You couldn't wait to see him cum. As you sank down on his cock, he sat up and gripped your hips so hard it would leave marks he wanted to worship after. Once you bottomed out, you stayed there, letting seonghwa adjust to the feeling. He pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your skin, scattering hickeys across your chest.
"Fuck you're so tight y/n, please move," he keeps his hands on you trying to roll your hips against him.
"And you're such a needy boy, should've listened to me when I told you not to eat those cookies, hm?" you cooed at the boy looking into glossy eyes, before lifting yourself up and slamming back down, ripping the loudest moan yet out of seonghwa. You kept a slow, steady pace, teasing and punishing seonghwa for this very avoidable situation, more so because you worried that this would be the last time on his cock. Fuck he was perfect, he filled you so much better than your exes', hitting all the spots you never knew you needed.
But, He couldn't take much more of the pace and took it into his own hands, flipping you on your back and lifting your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press. Once he had you like that you knew you were done for. His hips slammed into your cunt, making your jaw drop, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he pounded you deliciously had you seeing stars, Your groans just short of screams; not so much because you didn't need to but for his neighbours' sake, although you were already expecting to hear about a complaint in the morning anyway.
"fuck, fuck y/n you feel so good," He huffed out a series of thank-yous and sweet nothings into your skin, worshipping your pussy like he was willing to die for it.
He picked up his pace, thrusting just as deep, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer, by the looks on his face he was right there with you. You cried out again when he moved his hand to your clit, circling with his thumb at the same pace as he was dipping into your cunt, your orgasm just on the edge.
"Y/n I'm gonna cum I can't-" was all he could get out before you clenched tightly around his cock, your own orgasm beating his. He pressed his hips down into your cunt, his cum filling you, leaking out from your hole. He rocked in and out once more before finally, and reluctantly, pulling out, watching his cum leak out of you.
Once he had helped you clean up and changed the bedsheets, you started looking for your scattered clothes to go home, you didn't know how to face seonghwa, guilt rushing back through your veins.
"Where you going?" seonghwa looked at you from the bed with sad eyes.
"well you know, I thought- I thought I should…." you mumbled.
"Come back, I'm not done yet…and I'm cold…" seonghwa smiled sweetly, pulling the blanket back for you to get in with him. With a sigh of relief, you picked up one of his hoodies he had left on the back of his desk chair and pulled it over your head before climbing into bed with seonghwa. As soon as you were under the covers his arms wrapped tightly around you, slipping his hands under the hoodie.
"Are you okay with this? I mean, is it okay that I like you as more than a tutee? Seonghwa softly admitted into your neck as he held you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. His breathing against your neck gave you goosebumps, you wouldn't ever want to leave his arms if it was an option.
"You like me? Wow Hwa, you're trying to take advantage of your student" you teased, but not for long when he looked at you pouting. Instead of answering with your words, you pressed your lips to his once again, taking your time to enjoy feeling his soft lips and the way that you fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. You fiddled with the hair that reached his nape pulling a satisfied hum from seonghwa.
You pulled away to look into his pretty eyes, "So, tell me more about the toys in the draw?"
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AHHH this took ages ,,,,, I deleted like 1000 words and started over bc I wasn't happy with it but now! It is done!!!!!!!! Who next......
also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !
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writemekpop · 29 days
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Forgive and Forget | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)
Summary: Haechan claims that you’ve been ignoring him – but he hasn’t been the best boyfriend either.
Genre: Established relationship AU, angst, baseballplayer!Haechan,
Word count: 1k
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From the moment Haechan walked in the front door, you knew something was wrong. His footsteps were too slow, too lazy.
Haechan trudged into the living room, head hung low.
"You're home!" You shut your laptop and walked towards him.
You wrapped your arms around Haechan's firm body, but he wasn’t hugging you back. His arms hung limply by his side.
You stood up on your toes and leant towards him, but Haechan dodged your kiss, swerving his lips away at the last moment.
He pushed you off him and trudged towards the bedroom.
"What's up, baby?" You asked, following behind him. "Did you lose the game?"
Haechan scoffed. "Actually we won, not that you'd know... or care." He mumbled under his breath.
You frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Haechan's dark eyes met yours. He stared at you, as if contemplating something. Then he broke your gaze, shrugging. 
"Forget I said anything." He pulled off his top and sweatpants, and went into the en suite bathroom.
“Want me to give you a rub down?" You smirked, thinking of all the times in Haechan's career as a professional baseball player that you'd met him for a steamy post-game massage.
Placing your hands on his waist, you started to follow him into the bathroom… but the door slammed in your face. You barely had time to yank your hands away. You stood staring at the white wood, your ears still ringing from the sound.
There was a hiss of water as Haechan started the shower.
You slumped down on the bed, unable to work out why your boyfriend was in such a foul mood. It seemed like the only emotion he had left was anger.
Haechan hadn’t kissed you for weeks. At this point you were more like roommates, not girlfriend and boyfriend.
Haechan came into the bedroom. His brown torso was dripping wet, and a towel hung low on his hips. The sight of your nearly naked boyfriend sent tingles running down your entire body. But you knew better than to approach him right now.
Haechan sat on the bed beside you, still naked. He stared at the floor.
"Why do you never come to my games?"
"I do come to them," you said. "I was there just last… last…" You stopped mid-sentence.
Actually, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been to a match.
Haechan scoffed. "All the other guys' girlfriends come to every single one. Jeno's girl always brings these amazing cookies that she bakes from scratch. Why don't you ever do anything like that?"
You frowned. "I'm not your personal cheerleader, Haechan. I have a job, you know. I’m busy."
Haechan sighed. "How busy can you be? All you do is sit at home all day and write stories for kids. Anyone could do that."
Haechan’s words felt like a blow to the face.
"Would you prefer if I didn't work? Would you prefer it if I came to all your matches... like some kind of trophy girlfriend?"
The look in his eyes was enough to know that he meant ‘yes’.
You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. "Unbelievable."
Haechan sprang off the bed. "Why do you always make our arguments about you? I'm the one who is supposed to be upset, but now you're crying." He rolled his eyes.
You swiped away the tears from your burning cheeks.
Haechan turned towards the wardrobe and put on a black T shirt and jeans. You watched him from the bed as he laced up his trainers.
"Where are you going?" you asked.
"To the after party. To hang out with people who actually care about me."
Haechan stomped into the hallway. You ran behind him.
"Wait,” you said. "Don't go."
Haechan's hand was on the front door. He paused, turning to look at you.  "Why not?"
You gripped your hair. "Because... I love you."
Haechan sighed. "I love you, too, Y/n. But that's not enough. I need a girlfriend who can spare three hours for a baseball match! You know I'd do the same for you."
"Would you?" you asked, voice quiet.
Haechan frowned. "What do you mean?"
You tugged at the hem of your shirtsleeve. You hated being this open. "When was the last time you came to one of my book signings?"
Haechan scratched his head. "I guess I've been busy..."
"Have you ever read one of my books, Haechan? They’re ten pages long."
“I’ve been… meaning to.” Haechan gulped. He let the front door go. It fell shut. He stepped towards you.
"Do you even know what my latest book is called?"
"It's called the owl and the... no wait, the little girl and the..." Haechan sank down onto the floor. "Shit."
You shrugged sadly. "Don't I deserve a cheerleader, too?"
Haechan buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. "I'm so sorry.”
You crouched down beside him and rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, too."
Haechan raised his head to look at you. His chocolate eyes were glassy, and the tip of his nose was red.
"I want to be there for you." He said, sniffing. "I understand if you want to break up but-"
You put your finger on his lips, shushing him.
"I don't want to break up, baby. We just need to make time for each other."
You stood up and held your hand out. Haechan took it, smiling weakly.
"What happened to us?" He asked, wrapping his hand around your waist.
You shrugged. "We're not perfect."
Haechan smiled. "I think you're perfect. I just… lost sight of that."
You bit your lip, cheeks warming. "Come here, you."
You cupped Haechan's face with your hands, stood on your tip toes and pulled his lips onto yours.
When you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time. Every sensation was new, his touch, his lips, his body. It set you alight.
MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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sherlockscumslut · 4 months
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☆Genshin men and how they behave under the mistletoe ☆
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Ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham, Cyno, Neuvillette and Wriothesley.
18+ only. Contains smut, sexual innuendos, fluff & crack. Kisses duh, sweet talk, praise, fingering, oral(f&m.receiving), facial, creampies, bad jokes, possible grammar mistakes.
A/n: Have you been naughty or nice this year? 😏 As for me, I guess it's hard to tell bc Wriothesley came home. Did he come to punish me for breaking the law or perhaps, to teach me some...wrestling techniques? 🤭
My AO3
Follow my backup @itsdebby
°☆•☆°•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•☆•
Finds the opportunity to give you a passionate kiss and whisper something naughty in your ear
The mistletoe hangs on your bedroom's door and every once in a while, even when you're on the phone with friends and family, he sneaks out of nowhere and hugs you from behind. His puts his strong arms around your waist and his head nest on your shoulder. "Oops! I think you walked under the mistletoe again, sweetheart." He says in the sweetest tone and gives you soft neck kisses that never fail to make you melt. "I can't wait until I'm all over you tonight~" He murmurs.
KAEYA, Ayato, Childe, Wriothesley
Tells you something random about his current hyperfixation and turns it into a never ending session of him talking about it.
"Nice to see you here, again. I know we live in the same house but you just happened to walk under the mistletoe...What do you mean it's the 20th time today? Listen, I found out MORE information about [x] and I just wanna share it with you...Don't worry, dinner's one me!"
CYNO, Neuvillette, ITTO, Zhongli
Puts some music on and invites you to dance.
"Sweetheart, can I have this dance?" He offers his hand and you cling on him. He spins you around and kisses you softly on the lips. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for" He says smiling. His pretty eyes stare into your soul as he holds your hand and leans for another kiss.
KAEYA, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Neuvillette
Is up for a quicky right here, right now.
You could be baking some cookies for the holidays but he doesn't care that you're busy. Since you walked under the mistletoe to get to the kitchen, he walks in there too and gives you a naughty grin. "You know...I also walked under the mistletoe on my way here...what do I mean? Well, how about I show you instead?" He lifts you up at the counter and starts teasing your clit with his hard cock. Soft moans escape his mouth and fights the urge to come right away. No, he won't let himself come so quickly. Not until he feels your tight pussy sucking him in and hear you beg him to fill you up. He never leaves you empty handed and after a few rough thrusts, he squeezes your hips as he comes inside. He's proud of lasting longer than he expected and had you to beg for his seed.
Childe, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Kaeya
Praises you while you're gagging on his cock.
"Fuck, this is so good...keep going..." He whispers as you worship his cock with your mouth, licking every inch of him. You like to make him think that he's in control but little does he know about your secret technique that can make him burst at any moment. "You're always so good for me" He moans and holds a mistletoe over your head. "Hehe, this adds a little fun, doesn't it?" He starts twitching inside your throat and you pull his cock out of your mouth and tease his tip with your thumb. He groans as he comes on your face and his upper body goes limp."I could do this everyday" He murmurs.
ITTO, Kaeya, Childe, Cyno
Eats your pussy while you're reading a book or watching a Christmas movie in your bedroom.
Turns out it wasn't a bad idea to hang a mistletoe over the headboard. It was his idea but oh well, it benefits you too. You can barely concentrate on your book or movie. How could you when he's licking your clit back and forth and keeps adding one more finger inside you? He drinks your juices like water and his lips vibrate on your flesh as another moan escapes his mouth. Your hole clench on his fingers as you cream all over them. Your toes curl as a wave of satisfaction washes over your body. He looks at you with pure lust, panting while watching you come back to your senses.
Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Cyno, Neuvillette
He still believes in Santa and stays up late to meet him so they can have a quick round of Genius Invocation TCG or beetle fight💀
Thoma, Itto, Cyno.
Cyno joke moment: You wanna know how we know Santa is a man? He shows up late, eats your cookie, empties his sack, comes only once, calls you a ho and leaves while you're sleeping.
《THE END》
! DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!
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