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joelsmochi · 4 months

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honey ♡ joel miller

rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate�� nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)

“Which eyeshadow should I use?”

You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”

Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.

“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.

“Uh… Yeah?”

“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”

“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.

Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”

“My dad is a dork.”

“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”

Sarah only rolled her eyes.

“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”

Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.

You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.

His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—

“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“

“Oh, really?”

You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”

“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.

“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.

She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”

You groaned softly. “Bummer.”

“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”

“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.

You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”

“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”

You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.

♡

You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.

“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.

He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.

“Bees?”

“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”

Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”

He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”

You only shook your head.

“They’re calm if you are.”

I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.

“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”

He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.

You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.

“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.

He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”

“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”

Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”

“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.

You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.

“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“

“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.

“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”

“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”

“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”

You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.

“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”

“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”

Idiot.

“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”

He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”

You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“

“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.

“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.

“Mnh-mnh.”

“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”

“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.

Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”

His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.

“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”

“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.

He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.

“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”

He smirked at your amused expression.

“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”

He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”

Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.

“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”

It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.

Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.

WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.

You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.

Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.

“Tastes good.”

“Just good?”

“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.

He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.

“Sarah know you’re out here?”

After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”

“So we’re all alone,” he finished.

“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”

He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.

Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.

“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.

Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”

“S’normal,” he muttered.

He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.

You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.

“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”

You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.

He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.

“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”

“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.

“Hmm. Where at?”

Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”

Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.

“I get it?” His voice strained.

You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”

Your clavicle.

More honey. More licking.

“How ‘bout now?”

You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”

Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.

“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.

His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.

“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”

Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.

He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.

Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.

Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.

Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.

Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.

He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.

His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.

Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.

He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.

“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”

Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.

“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.

“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”

“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.

His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.

“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”

Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.

“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”

Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.

Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.

“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”

You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.

“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”

He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.

Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.

“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.

He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.

“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”

You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”

“I’m cu—oh!”

“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”

He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.

Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.

“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“

He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.

Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.

“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.

“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”

#SORRY THIS IS KINDA RUSHED UMMM #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut

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honeybeeschool · 2 years

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How can I begin backyard beekeeping after attending a honeybee school?

HoneyBee School and Supply offers assistance to those who wish to start a backyard apiary but are unsure on how to proceed. We provide brand-new beekeepers with a comprehensive Backyard Beehive Starter Kit.

Our flagship product is this starter kit for backyard hives. All the supplies required for the first season for a beginning beekeeper (without prior experience). 1) Backyard beehive beginning kit, which includes the tools and supplies needed for a fruitful first season, is included in this course or package. 2) Your mated queen honeybees 3) thorough directions or tutorials in video format that demonstrate how to start beekeeping in depth and step-by-step. 4) live accompaniment for the initial season.

The essential fundamentals for a beginner backyard beekeeper — equipment, installation, inspections, hive maintenance, etc. — will be taught to you.

Included in your beekeeping beginner package are:

All woodenware for a single Langstroth Hive (screened bottom board, 2 deep super boxes with 10 frames each, and 1 honey medium super box with 10 frames, inner cover, and telescoping outer cover), hive tool, veil hood/jacket combo, leather protective gloves, smoker, wax bar, shims, front hive feeder, mouse guard, and pest treatments with application tools are included in the HoneyBee School beginner’s equipment kit. Everything required for the first season

A live honeybee package contains 10,000 worker bees and a mated queen bee in a 3-pound bundle of three-banded Italian or Carniolan bees (delivered in the spring)

60+ well-organized modules of virtual education with a thorough master class are available at any time, at your convenience.

Live coaching and assistance from an instructor with over 13 years of experience: frequent, live, elective Q&A sessions during the first season, help forums, etc.

#honey bee hive supplies #backyard beehive starter kit #beekeeping #bee keeping course #USA beekeeping

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freecycleusa · 2 years

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New Post has been published on https://freecycleusa.com/10-things-ive-learned-my-1st-month-as-a-beekeeper/

10 Things I've Learned my 1st Month as a Beekeeper!

youtube

I have been an official beekeeper for 1 month and now have two hives going! There is a lot to learn! Even though I've only had my bees for 1 month, I have some great tips and advice for the beginning beekeeper! Learn from and with me on this crazy journey called beekeeping!

Support our channel and start your own homestead journey with

Check out our Facebook page:

Thanks for checking out our channel and hopefully subscribing! We are a family who lives in the mountains of North Carolina and our channel is family friendly and features homesteading, horsemanship, chickens, goats, wilderness survival, travel, nature, salamanders, crafts, canning, gardens, fruit trees, dogs, cats, hiking, family adventures, science, and a whole bunch more! We post several videos a week, so if you like us, then subscribe! Any ideas for videos? Questions? Let us know! source

#1st year beekeeper #backyard bees #bee advice #bee products #bee wax #beekeeping #beekeeping equipment #beekeeping supplies #homestead life #honey harvesting #pure living honey

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lunar-serpentinite · 2 months

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assorted hjp headcanons

he takes to guitars like a bird to the sky. acoustic, bass, electric, you name it, he'd slay it

he eventually finds a way to force kreacher into retirement, but still lets the house elf have absolutely free reign in the former bedrooms of his beloved departed masters

harry has this habit of just picking up all the even mildly pathetic/helpless strays he finds on the streets and ends up raising them. 12 grimmauld place looks a lot like a menagerie now, and he kinda likes it

he went to luna for help on how to take care of his newfound animal roommates and thats how he befriended luna's then-penpal-turned-bf rolf scamander

eventually he moves to a quaint little cottage right outside of godrics hollow to be closer to his parents' final resting place. it's heavily warded, fidelius'd, and nobody except for ron, hermione and luna know the address

he never really did like living in a gated community / suburban neighbourhood, it reminded him too much of privet drive

the first time someone mocked him by calling him freak, harry blacked out a bit and the next thing he knew he was standing over a decently beat-up person

creatures associated w death like corvids, moths and the like are weirdly attracted to him. hell, he even found a whole vulture in his backyard once

harry is pretty apathetic about the notion of his own death post-battle of hogwarts. he told luna once that it felt like he was just idly waiting by for death to come by again

differences aside, he and pansy (my characterisation of her anyways) wld bond over being nosy, gossipy little shits

he would've said yes if cedric and cho invited him into their relationship lmao

i dont think hes necessarily a naturally jealous/possessive person. he just doesn't know how to properly have a grip on himself if the few scant ppl and stuff that he considers his are in danger of being taken away from him, born from trauma from the dursleys ofc. make him feel secure enough and he'd be chill

hes kinda shit at potions especially without proper instructions and motivation because he learned how to cook first, and potions deals w exact measurements while cooking is just measure based on vibes

he would make an excellent beekeeper. idk but he just gives me that vibe

harry's vibe checks are rarely wrong but he doesn't say anything abt em anymore bc hes used to ppl automatically assuming that hes a liar

"harry, why didnt u tell us" "you didnt ask. and if u did ask, youd probably assume im lying"

hes a bit of a hoarder lmao he has a small room in his new cottage thats just filled w his trinkets

he has absolutely no qualms in lying to everyone's faces if he thinks he's justified based on his own criteria of justice

he cant dance those fancy formal dances but at some point he will discover that he likes other types of dancing, just not in front of other people

harry would abuse the FUCK out of slang so he can say as little words as possible. his convo partner is confused but he also doesnt like them ? theyre a grownup with access to books, they can figure it out by themselves

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter headcanon

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bearcubbirffday · 8 months

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Follow me on tiktok if ya get bored. I don't have that many of my own videos yet, but I repost plenty! Still getting use to using it!

You can also follow my beekeeping page where I post pictures and videos of our hive adventures. My boyfriend and I LOVE being beekeepers.

#tiktok #follow me #beekeeper #phlebotomy #cats #social media #beekeeping #honeybee #backyard beekeeping #instagram #relationships #family #sisters #soul mates

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jhoneybees · 4 months

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The Cowboy & The Beekeeper(Chapter 3)

Welcome to chapter 3 :) I'm pretty excited for this one but it is quite a lot so please read at your own risk! Gosh, it's been a while, sorry for not being active😅

Taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @scarlettlight06 @joshuntildawn13 @elvisalltheway101

Characters: 60s!Cowboy!Elvis X Beekeeper!fem!Reader

Warnings/triggers: guns, gunshots, panic attack, people being shot, mentions of Y/n, Elvis' mother getting hurt(imagine Gladys if you want), age regression, slipping into little!space

_____________________________________________

It’s been a few weeks since you insisted on letting Elvis stay and after that moment you had with him in the backyard, seeing those blue eyes and feeling his lips on your skin, you came to the conclusion after thinking for a week that you’ve caught feelings for him. The same with Elvis, spending this time with you made his heart pitter patter, made him think that he’s caught feelings, when you would look at him and whenever your skin might brush along his, Gosh his heart would gasp “She feels so soft…” kicking its feet “She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen…” You’re both oblivious to each other’s feelings.

And it didn't help that you were secretly admiring each other's features when one is talking and a hand grazing along the grass onto one's hand in the backyard.

“No, rising sun can be a rascal sometimes…gotta watch that horse” he chuckles “Same with Rosemary, gosh she can be so naughty!” you answer with a quiet giggle and a shake of the head. Elvis' grin grows “Both got mischievous pets huh?” he questions with a laugh and a quip of an eyebrow, nodding as a response, you laugh.

Your eyes interlock with his, a comfortable silence fills the air as your chests rise and fall with slow breaths until a sharp, loud, frightening sound breaks through “What was that?” you slip out, Elvis turning his head around with slightly parted lips “Sounded…like a gun-” another rips through the air, making you flinch. Elvis begins getting himself on his feet, slowly walking towards the side of the house. Peeking his head around the corner, his eyes landing on something far away, moving closer and closer as he breathes, cowboys.

_____________________________________________

After getting on his horse to escape his hometown that was on fire, destroyed. He came to a realization that he couldn’t look at it the same way again, especially after seeing from afar, the leader of the enemy cowboys shoot his mother in her shoulder to get her to move out of the way of the front door to the bank her family ran for generations. Seeing her gasping for air, weakly reaching her hand out to blindly capture one of the men's legs only for them to yank away.

Running over to kneel down beside his mother, gently pulling her hand into his. Trying his absolute best to comfort her, to someway take the pain of the bullet in her shoulder away but it only earned a weak smile and a soft, quiet, weak last sentence “I love you Booby” That moment his vision turned red and led to actions that many would regret doing but to him, it was what he had to do. Barging in to meet eye contact with his mother’s murderer, clutching his pistol tightly in his grasp, tears brimming.

BANG

_____________________________________________

Elvis looks at you, who's still sitting on the grass “Get in the house” your eyebrows furrow “What’s the matter?” questioning in a soft tone, Elvis making his way over to you, his Adam’s apple bobbing, he lifts you up from under your arms “I-I’ll explain later, just- just go find somewhere to hide” You eyes widen a little with fear, why do I need to hide? You thought to yourself. Elvis guides you inside through the back door and pushes you by the shoulders into the kitchen then to the living area, his eyes darting around the place as he curses under his breath in annoyance. He thought them cowboys would have lost him miles away, biting his bottom lip.

“Maybe- Maybe the wardrobe in my room will be alright?” you stutter softly with your voice unsure of what's going on, Elvis nods and drags you to your room, opening the door roughly but making sure to not let the handle hit the wall before he opens the wardrobe to let you climb in. Urgently pushing your dress that was hanging over, under your legs and bringing his thumb and index to lift your chin, bending over to meet your eye level “Stay here, Okay? Don’t go anywhere, don’t make noise, just stay put Kay? Be as quiet as mice…I-I’ll come back to ya just gotta deal with something…Alright honey?” raising his eyebrows with his eyes shining with anxiety. You nod frantically, keeping your eyes on his “A-Alright I’ll stay…B-but what’s happening? What’s gonna happen?” Elvis sighs, he doesn’t want to tell you about his situation quite yet “There’ll be a lot of noise, just cover your ears, darling Okay?” you nod again “Mhm..okay” Elvis gives you a small smile, mumbling a “Good girl” pecking your forehead softly before closing the doors.

The darkness of the wardrobe fills in your vision, your breath inhaling and exhaling loud in your ears. Elvis didn't really answer your question about what's happening but you won't ponder on that for too long and do what he told you to do, covering your ears.

Suddenly some muffled rustling and shuffling noises from outside catch your attention and you lower your chin closer to your chest. Hoping whatever is going on would end soon. You're scared. Just then when you were thinking of what Elvis could possibly be doing, a loud, threatening gunshot went off. Making you flinch and your toes curl, the slightest whimper emitting your lips.

Then again another one shot through the sound waves, tears begin to pool in your eyes, you’re not used to guns, shaking your head silently, sending your thoughts into a never ending whirlpool in your head.

What if Elvis got hurt? What if he died! Oh no…what if you die?

Your breathing picking up at rapid speed and your blacked out vision going blurry.

The ringing in your ears, you thought sounded far away suddenly charging towards your eardrums, not hearing your own quiet whimpers and choked up sobs. You don't know what you're gonna do, of course you're going to listen to Elvis and follow his instructions but the sudden urge to burst out of the wardrobe because of the claustrophobic feeling. Not caring for your own good if you get in direct contact with danger, and an urge to go find Elvis. Your mind rocking itself back and forth in the corner of your skull “We have to find him” your heart drumming “MOVE! HE MIGHT BE DEAD, PLEASE-” the world caving into you, heart strings being tied around all over your body as your mind cries out-

…

The darkness you think would consume you, turn to light, almost like you’re sitting on a cloud…your body feels lighter.

“Honey?” a warm, familiar, concerned, heaved breathy voice echoing in your ears, you let out another of your distraught sobs.

Your body jolts at the sudden touch, you look up and see those eyes that could bring you to tears, your breath caught in your throat finally pushing itself out “E-Elvis…Elvie-” your hands shaking uncontrollably and your legs jelly, reaching your arms out to grab onto his shoulders and as you try to lift yourself to your feet. You instantly fall to the floor, fortunately Elvis quick to wrap an arm under your arm and behind your back and a hand gripping your thigh to break the fall.

“Woah, woah… easy there, almost hit your head there” Elvis says in a quiet tone, getting on his knees. Rubbing his hands up and down the sides of your upper arms but then suddenly letting out a huff when you launch onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, digging your face in the crook of his neck, the smell of his manly musk almost lulling you into a dream and your legs curling in. You just wanted to feel small.

“Hun-” his voice softening, then you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, squeezing lightly.

“I-I-I thought I wost’ you…” you mumble earning the soft, gentle embrace to tighten. “Oh honey… I could never let you lose me…could never let myself lose you” more sobs slithering out of your throat as you buried your face even further into his shoulder, you really did think you lost him, you’ve only known him a month but it feels like you’ve known each other for centuries.

A meow interrupts the silence making you lift your head out of his shoulder slightly to see Rosemary walking in with a few leaves and twigs sticking on her fur and her head lowering to sniff the floor quietly with her ears turned down she must’ve been so scared from the commotion. Slowly untangling yourself from Elvis, you call for your feline. Wrapping your arms around her furry body as she nuzzled her cheeks against your chest, making you giggle.

Elvis’ muscles relieved themselves seeing your smile and he breathed out through his nose with his smile appearing, his eyes trail down to his pistol discarded on the floor, his smile fades when flashes come back to him, feeling the weight of the gun loaded, pressed up against one of the men, seeing their faces filled with slight fear. Eventually putting it back in his holster when they all get back on their horses, running away.

He couldn’t do it to anyone else.

A sharp and long inhale escapes, he shakes the thoughts out of his head “Darling…” his hand reaching out to lift your chin, the sight of your eyes glistening with soon shedding tears and gleaming with an innocence, almost child-like. His heart thumping again when you smile and lean up, craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.

“I love you daddy” you say with confidence that withered quickly, replaced with panic and confusion. Elvis eyebrows knit together, looking down at you “Y/n?”

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #60s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic

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whorekneecentral · 1 year

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Can you write something about reader sampling sebs honey - seb anon

the beekeeping kink lives I guess

Sebastian had picked up a hobby since retirement; bee keeping.

The hives had their own corner in the backyard, Seb going out every morning to check on them. He had done all the research, made sure to get all of the right things and even invested so much of his time into his little hobby.

You were happy that he found something keep him busy while you were working.

The back door slam shut when you step out of the bedroom. "You're gonna break the door!" You shout at your husband, finding him in the kitchen. There's a basket on the counter, Sebastian poking whatever had in it with a knife.

"What are you doing?" You peek over his shoulder and Seb picks up a piece of the honeycomb, holding it between his fingers.

"Try it," he says, holding it out for you.

Your hand wraps around his wrist, holding it in place as your lips wrapped around his fingers. Your eyes fixed on the man as you sucked the honey off his fingers.

“Do you like it?” He pulls his hand away, holding your jaw.

You nod, "it's good. Have you tasted it yet?"

"Gave you the honour of tasting it first."

Your hand rests on his jaw, your lips meeting yours so he can taste the left over honey on your lips. Seb pulls your bottom lip just a bit, giving it a little tug.

"Good," he whispers against your lips.

"Me or the honey?"

"Both." He smiles, his arms wrapping around you as he picks you up. "Where are we going, Sebastian ?"

"Upstairs," he lets you wrap your legs around him, "gonna taste something else." He drops you on the bed.

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #seb anon :)

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crazycatsiren · 1 year

Text

Me: *puts sugar water out for the bees*

One of my bees: *lands on my arm*

Me: *gets a drop of sugar water on a fingertip for her to drink* "I must be the biggest flower you've ever landed on, pretty little girl."

#beekeeping 2023 #beekeeper #bees #polinators #carniolan honey bees #backyard beehive #bee colony

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writethrough · 1 year

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Hello!! Could I request a Morpheus/powered reader? Powered like witch, elemental magick, whatever floats your boat! Action with fluff and camaraderie? Romantic or platonic is up to you! I love your fics!!

To Dream of Magic

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Minor injuries, mention of death, Matthew gets a little love interest

Word Count: 2377

A/N: Okay, so I love anything that has to do with witches, so the fact that you requested this was like the best cup of tea! I actually had this idea for a bit, and then you submitted this so it gave me the motivation to finish it!

I consider this a part one. But in the sense that if someone wants more Witch!Reader, this will be the character they get. I'm really excited to dive into this world/relationship. And once my requests are open again, I'd be happy to hear any ideas anyone has.

The residents of Thelma’s Grove were an eclectic bunch. A small community tucked just outside the city—modest homes perched along the street that led back to the highway. It was the type of place you didn’t know was there until you were in it.

That suited the residents fine. The hustle of the city and its traffic and crowds was what led everyone to Thelma’s Grove. It provided serenity, privacy, and above all, secrecy.

They were an eclectic lot indeed—beekeepers, a preschool teacher, a few single parents, and their children. But the woman who lived in the little white house with the sage-colored door was the most secretive.

You were kind—incredibly so—a wonderful neighbor. Everyone in Thelma’s Grove knew one another from where they were before to what they did, so when you arrived with your trunks, plants, and a lovebird, the street was abuzz.

They suspected something was different about you when you told one of your neighbors to take his dog to the vet. He had given you a funny look at first, but you made up an excuse, saying your friend's dog had similar symptoms. A day later, he was at your front door thanking you.

It grew from there. Your neighbors trusted your “instincts” more—that’s what they called them anyway. If someone had trouble with headaches, sleeping, anxiety—you name it—you’d give them a concoction of your making.

It wasn’t until the woman across the road broke her leg that the word “witch” attached itself to you.

You had thought you heard a scream. When the man who lived beside her looked up from his weeding, you knew it was real.

You rushed to her door, unlocking it with a flick of your wrist, and found her at the bottom of her stairs.

Her leg was bent at an odd angle as she lay on the floor, sobbing.

“It’s alright. I’m going to help you,” you said.

Searching around, you grabbed the hand towel hanging from the oven, folded it, and held it to her mouth.

“You need to bite down on this.”

She did as you said, too in pain to register what you were saying or doing.

You moved to her feet, kneeling above her.

“This will hurt, but you’ll be fine once I’m done.”

You didn’t hesitate as you grasped her behind her knee and ankle, straightening it. The scream she let out was muffled by the towel, but you didn’t let it phase you as you aligned her leg.

You muttered to yourself, a language lost in time. Beneath your fingers, the muscles and tissue reconnected. And your neighbor's cries slowly ebbed.

You shifted to sit and pulled the towel from her mouth.

“How does it feel now?” you asked, wiping the tears from her face.

She sniffled and looked at you with a mixture of wonder and confusion.

“Better,” she whispered, hoarse.

You gave her a small smile. “Good.”

You later found out the man had witnessed the whole thing. And between him and her, they had told the entire community what you did.

It all made sense after that. Your “instincts” were really magic. You knew the dog was sick because you spoke to her. Your concoctions were healing potions. And that little bird of yours was your familiar.

Yes, Thelma’s Grove was full of an eclectic bunch, indeed.

—

You were tending to your greenhouse in the backyard. It wasn’t much, no bigger than a shed, but it held life in every square inch. Planters lined the three walls with large terracotta pots on the floor below and other plants hanging from above.

You had finished watering the elderberry tree when Hope flew in.

“Come quickly! Someone needs you,” she said, zipping away when you started to follow.

The cries hit you before you saw who made them.

Hope landed beside a raven whose wing was unfurled and lay limp in the grass.

“It’s alright now. She will heal you,” Hope reassured.

You kneeled slowly, hands raised, so you didn’t startle the poor creature.

“Let me see,” you said, cupping the wing from underneath.

The bird yelped.

“I know,” you hushed. “I know.”

You rested your other hand over the wing, the lost language passing through your lips until the limb was healed.

The bird hiccupped but tentatively moved to test if the pain was gone.

When no zap occurred, the bird hopped closer and bowed its head.

“Thank you! Thank you!” he cried.

“There’s no need for that. I’m just happy you’re okay,” you said.

“I’m more than okay! You fixed my wing!”

You giggled. “What’s your name?”

“Matthew, my lady.” He bowed again.

You shook your head and told him your name and Hope’s. “No need for that. Why don’t you come in and rest?” You held out your finger, and he hopped on.

Hope flew in before you and perched on the back of a barstool as you set Matthew down on the counter.

“So, what exactly happened?” you asked.

He looked down as if embarrassed. “I was running an errand. And…may have gotten distracted.”

Your brow furrowed. “Distracted?”

Only when you caught his tiny eyes glancing at Hope did you understand.

You hummed. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re alright now.”

“I am!” He jumped at the subject change. “Never better.”

“Good.” You nodded. Then after considering what he said, you asked, “Who were you running an errand for?”

You knew most, if not all, of the witches in the area. You couldn’t remember any of them having a raven as a familiar. And even if one did, it wouldn’t explain the odd sensation this bird carried. Like…well, it reminded you of the lost language—ancient and powerful.

“The King of Dreams,” he said.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion. The King of Dreams? As in, not a witch?

Matthew shifted from foot to foot, getting the sense this was news to you.

“Are you…Are you not a goddess or something?” he asked.

You pulled back in surprise. “No. No, I’m definitely not.”

“Oh.” He dragged out, coming to a realization. “So, what are you?”

“A witch,” you said blankly, glancing at Hope, whose head was tilted. At least she was just as lost as you.

“Wait. Witches are real?” he asked.

“And apparently, so are gods,” you breathed, laughing in disbelief.

Yes, you were a witch. And yes, you thought of your gifts from the goddesses Hecate and Circe, but to have confirmation that the God of Dreams was real? It was almost too much.

You shook your head slightly to clear it.

“Morpheus is a little more than a god, per se,” Matthew said. “It’s…It’s kinda complicated. And thinking about it gives me a headache.”

You waved a hand. “We’ll save it for a rainy day then.”

—

Matthew had stayed a few more hours, asking questions about your powers and nearly preening when Hope wanted to know more about him.

You were exhausted by the time you crawled into bed. And sleep took you quickly.

The man before you wasn’t familiar. His porcelain complexion and onyx hair contrasted sharply but in an entirely transfixing way. He seemed larger than he was, possessing this energy that encompassed everything around him.

This feeling wasn’t new. You experienced it before…

The raven. Matthew.

This was Morpheus.

“You know me,” Morpheus spoke first, deep and honey-rich.

It was less a statement and more a question, making sure you knew who stood before you.

“Yes,” you said.

A breeze rustled the grass, and the distinct smell of citrus floated upward, but you couldn’t place where it came from. There were no orange trees here.

“It’s in the field,” he said. “I thought it would make you comfortable.”

You smiled at the images it conjured.

Hours upon hours of running through your grandmother’s orange grove. She was the one who first taught you about your heritage. Her skills had laid in plants. She knew everything there was to know. No one could brew a potion like her or heal an ailment quicker. You were happy she saw some talent in you.

“How is Matthew?” You looked back to him, coming out of your memories.

“As if nothing happened.” Morpheus had gotten closer. Or the stretch of green between you had shortened. You supposed it didn’t matter.

“Good,” you breathed, reaching to play with your pendant.

“I wanted to thank you for your aid,” he said.

You shook your head. “That’s not necessary. I’m just happy he’s alright.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up, but it was gone so fast you thought you imagined it.

“He’s spoken quite fondly of you.” He turned to the side, hands in his pockets, and you knew he wanted to walk with you. “And your familiar.”

“Hope,” you said, biting your lip at how Matthew had acted around the lovebird. “I think he has a little crush.”

“I think he’s fallen in love.”

You looked up, surprised at the slight tease in his tone. You never expected someone of his position to joke so readily. Then again, you hadn’t met anyone of his caliber before.

He led you to a pond with water so clear you could see the fish below. A dolphin-sized koi fish swam with half-fish half-cat creatures and so many others you weren’t sure how they all fit.

Morpheus sat on a bench, waiting for you to do the same.

“You are different from the witches I’ve encountered,” he said, regarding you with curiosity.

“How so?”

“You are kind.”

He said it as if it were foreign. Like he hadn’t seen kindness in eons. And, maybe, he’d seen so much that all of the bad had clouded the good.

You opened your mouth, unsure how to respond, then began slowly. “My grandmother used to tell me, ‘Do not put into the world what you do not wish back.’ She said it was the only lesson she wanted me to master.”

“Your grandmother was wise.”

“Yeah, she was.” You smiled softly, watching as willow trees dipped their leaves into the pond. “Is it always this peaceful?”

He stared ahead as if seeing something other than what was in front of him.

“It hadn’t been for some time,” he said. “All is well now.”

You hummed in thought. “‘The only thing that is eternal is hope.’ Another thing she used to say.”

“Is that the origin of your familiar’s name?” His eyes were soft, an endless galaxy on a warm summer’s night.

“She came to me the day my grandmother passed. I thought it was fitting.” You shrugged.

Everyone who had known your grandmother attended her celebration of life—family members, friends, patients—it made you cry harder knowing she was so loved.

You had walked away from the group for a moment to yourself—for a moment of grief and remembrance—when this beautiful little bird landed in your path.

She gazed at you with an intelligence unlike the animals you often healed, and you felt the connection bridge between you and her. And the name came to you when the last piece fell into place. Your utterance of “Hope” solidified your bond.

“My brother was with you that day.”

Your brow furrowed. “Your brother?”

“Destiny,” he said.

You let out a small laugh. “Yes, I suppose he was.”

Conversation flowed easily between you two. Though Morpheus didn’t say much, he was insightful and intelligent, and he listened with keen attention that made you almost shy. He controlled every speck of dirt and beam of light around you yet held an interest in you.

When you felt the tug of consciousness, you couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed. You could have sworn you only arrived in the Dreaming a few minutes ago. But you woke to the sunrays filtering through your curtains.

In the following days, you scoured every source you could think of for information on Morpheus. There were Greek myths, but your search grew more fruitful when you stumbled across an ancient tomb in one of your grandmother’s chests.

She taught you about destiny—how it influenced you and how you influenced it—so to see it written in her delicate scrawl wasn’t unusual. But when it changed to capital-D "Destiny," you shifted your tactics. It led you to the beginning.

Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium.

Personifications of otherwise intangible consciousnesses—all more powerful than any god or goddess you could think of.

And you had unknowingly saved one of their emissaries.

You had spoken to one of them.

You felt the vastness of his power by simply looking at him—it both terrified and thrilled you.

Dream. The perfect name for a creature so enthralling.

Mere days passed before Matthew appeared in your garden once again. You only noticed when you heard Hope speaking to someone, and his voice carried into the greenhouse. You thought it best to give them their privacy.

You could feel Morpheus’ presence through the raven even from here. It was stronger than last time, but you assumed that was because of Matthew’s injury.

And when it moved closer, you paid it no mind, thinking Matthew and Hope were joining you. It only occurred to you that their voices had stayed the same volume when the energy was standing in the doorway.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes jumping in surprise.

“Good morning.”

“Morpheus,” you said. “I…What are you doing here?”

“Matthew wished to visit Hope,” he said, stepping forward, hands behind his back. He scanned over the pots of flowers and herbs, trailing from the one at your fingertips, up your arms, to meet your eyes. “I wished to visit you.”

You bit your lip lightly, glancing down then back. “Well then, how about a cup of tea?”

He nodded once, letting you lead the way.

You moved to Thelma’s Grove because something pulled you toward it after your grandmother died. You found a home in the community. People who would protect you and who you’d protect in return. It didn’t matter if you had lived here for twenty years or visited for a few hours. Once you found this little corner of the world, you were part of it forever.

And you hoped the same could be said of the Endless behind you.

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