#fresh chopped vegetable

[aarohij]

5 Healthy Vegetarian Breakfast Ideas to Get Your Day Started

Breakfast has been considered the most important meal of the whole day as it helps to set the tone for the rest of the day. Being a vegetarian comes with added benefits as you can include various fruits and veggies in your breakfast. This way you can create a bowl of health and taste by incorporating colorful and flavorful fruits and vegetables. In this blog, we have given you five breakfast recipes that you can add to your breakfast to kick-start your day. You can opt for fresh vegetable delivery in Bangalore to save time and money.

5 Healthy Vegetarian Breakfast Ideas

1.      Green Smoothie Bowl

Just like the name suggested, the green smoothie bowl will need a handful of spinach, and kale, along with banana, mixed berries, chia seeds, and almond milk, and blend it in a mixer smoothly.

Pour the smoothie mix into a bowl and add sliced fruits like mango, strawberries, and kiwi. You can also add nuts, seeds, and granola for crunch and protein.

This vibrant, colorful, and textured bowl of smoothies is full of flavors, vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants to provide you with energy for the whole day.

2.      Vegetable Chila with Avocado Toast

Vegetable chila is another option in which you can add freshly diced bell pepper, tomato, onion, spinach, and chilies in Chickpea flour. Cook the chila on a non-stick pan, add butter if needed. Fold it over and repeat the process.

You can serve it with mashed avocado seasoned with salt and black pepper on grain toast.

This way you can complete your need for fiber, and nutrients without compromising taste and texture making it the most satisfying breakfast meal. Order online vegetables in Bangalore from GreenChopper.

3.      Fruit and Yogurt Parfait

Greek yogurt layered with different fruits such as bananas, berries, mangoes, and pomegranates in a bowl can be the tastiest breakfast meal. You can add honey or maple syrup for added sweetness and crunchiness and texture, you can add granola or nuts on top.

This bowl of goodness does not only look good but also is full of protein, fiber, and vitamins to fuel your morning.

4.      Vegetable Breakfast Burrito

Breakfast burrito sounds delicious, right? All you need to do is sauté bell peppers, zucchini, onions, and cherry tomatoes together in a pan with olive oil and spices. To make it healthy, use whole-grain tortilla, fill the sauteed veggies with scrambled paneer, and add cheese if you like.

Fold the burrito and toast in a pan on all the sides. This way your morning will start with taste and be packed with protein, fiber, and a variety of vegetables to keep you full and satisfied until lunchtime. You can opt for online cut vegetable delivery in Bangalore.

5.      Mixed Fruit Salad with Cottage Cheese

Create a bowl of seasonal goodness of fruits such as apples, watermelon, oranges, pineapple, and grapes. Mix them in a bowl with rock salt and black pepper and add creamy cottage cheese on top.

You can lemon juice for tanginess and cinnamon for extra flavor if you like. This bowl will fulfill your need for vitamins, minerals, and protein.

Start Your Mornings with Healthy and Tasty Treats!

Now that you have got these 5 amazing and delicious recipes to cook without putting much effort into the kitchen, you are sorted for your breakfast worries. However, you must be thinking about all the chopping and peeling in the mornings, but don’t worry as we got you a solution for that as well. You can now order chopped vegetables delivery online in Bangalore.

#fresh vegetable online #order vegetables online #buy fresh vegetable #online chopped vegetables #fresh green vegetable #fresh chopped vegetable #buy chopped vegetables online

[kagejima]

goodnight to everybody except for true form sukuna and the domestic husband au images of him that are floating around in my head bc of that one fanart, when will I know peace

#domestic husband big sukuna who sees you working hard and kisses your head while he puts food on your desk #domestic husband sukuna who has to pick up the cat constantly as he's putting fresh sheets on the bed #domestic husband sukuna who chops away at vegetables and wears your apron but its very small on him #im gonna be sick someone send me help 😭😭😭😭 #🎤: rae is in the vocal booth

[fieriframes]

[AND JUST GO AHEAD AND THROW IT IN THE OVEN. FINISH IT IN THE OVEN, SEVEN, EIGHT MINUTES. AND WHAT WILL THIS BE SERVED WITH? MASHED POTATOES, FRESH VEGETABLES, I WOULD HAVE GRADUATED HIGHER, BUT I FLUNKED GRAVY. MMM. TELL YOU WHAT, JOHN BOY, YOU KNOW HOW TO COOK. THE CHOP IS SUPER TENDER.]

#s09e05 porkapalooza #guy fieri #guyfieri #diners drive-ins and dives #oven seven eight minutes #mashed potatoes #fresh vegetables #graduated higher #john boy #the chop #gravy #mmm.

[etherealspacejelly]

this is your gentle reminder to stop fighting against your adhd and instead structure your life around it

buy a pack of chapsticks and put one in the pocket of all of your coats and jackets because you always forget to bring one and chapped lips is sensory hell

leave important things where you can see them. if they go in a box or a drawer you will forget they exist

put any appointments or deadlines in your phone calendar As Soon As you get them. set a reminder for a week before, a day before, an hour before, as many as you need as often as you need them.

when that little voice in your head says "i dont need to write that down, ill remember it" that is the devil talking!!! write it down anyway!!

plan for down time. have a few hours at the end of every day to just do fun stuff like engage in your hyperfixations. even if you didnt get all of your work done that day, have the rest anyway. you probably spent the whole day beating yourself up for not doing what you Should be doing, so you still need the break.

if you never eat vegetables because its too much effort to chop and cook them, get the frozen or canned shit. it doesnt go off for ages and you just have to microwave it. theres no point buying fresh vegetables if they just keep going off and being left to rot in the bottom of your fridge

if you struggle to decide what to have for dinner every day, take the decision out of it. choose a set of meals and eat those on rotation until you get sick of them, then choose some new ones and do it again.

its not stupid if it works! our brains literally have a chemical deficiency. you are allowed to accommodate yourself. go forth and stop making your life more difficult than it has to be because "this shouldn't be this hard". it is hard, so make it easier.

#adhd #actually adhd #adhd tips

[punkbakerchristine]

i used to not care for onions, they were always too sharp for me. then i lost 84 pounds (and counting) and started getting hellofresh boxes, now i can’t get enough of them, especially shallots! i love how they add another dimension to the sweet, nutty couscous and give the tomato sauce a nice bite here 😋

#pork #pork chops #trattoria #israeli couscous #roasted vegetables #amateur cooking #hello fresh #mine

[exclaimblog]

Carne con Chile Rojo Beef slices are simmered together with a chile-tomato sauce in this spicy and delicious main dish.

#chopped 1 clove garlic 2 teaspoons vegetable oil 2 pounds beef chuck roast #chile rojo recipe #chopped 10 fresh chile de arbol peppers #carne #chile rojo

[rozencruzart]

Carne con Chile Rojo - Cuisine Beef slices are simmered together with a chile-tomato sauce in this spicy and delicious main dish.

#chopped 1 clove garlic 2 teaspoons vegetable oil 2 pounds beef chuck roast #carne #chopped 10 fresh chile de arbol peppers #bouillon #cuisine #beef slices are simmered together with a chile-tomato sauce in this spicy and delicious main dish

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader This will make the most sense if you read this first

Simon is chopping vegetables when the power goes down.

It happens in slow motion. The lights waver, warm yellow glow from the living room lamp trembling before it goes out with the television, along with the bright white glaze of the bulbs in the kitchen. They flicker, they flare, dipping his world into darkness.

Months ago, he might have panicked. His anxiety might have peaked, he would have considered checking the locks, ensuring the shades are drawn, validated any weak points of entry. He would have gone for closest stashed handgun.

But things are different now. His mind doesn't jump to a security breach, or an imminent threat. He doesn't consider his consider his "go bag", he doesn't reach for his "work" phone.

Instead, he only thinks of you.

He raises his voice to ensure it reaches you through the flat. "Think we lost power."

"Simon!" Your voice is drenched in fear, the two syllables of his name dripping in it, white flash of panic just on the edge, and the knife goes down easy on the cutting board, carrots and celery nearly finished, electric burners on the stove turning from red to black. Candles. There are candles in here somewhere, aren't there? And flashlights.

"Sweetheart?" The flashlight on his cell clicks on, and he double checks the knife is safely away from the edge of the counter. He calls your name, waiting for a response, for an acknowledgment from Emma's room, where the door is open with his girls inside, one of them fresh out of the bath and hopefully, nearly asleep.

There's no answer. He sweeps the flashlight across the ground, hoping to avoid blinding you or Emmaline, working his way closer to the pitch black doorway. The space in his mind that was calm a moment ago, now begins to spiral. Why aren't you answering him? "Honey? You alright?"

Emma begins to cry. It's not her hungry cry, or her full nappy cry, or her attention cry, but something else, something scared. Distressed.

He's in the room with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling to ensure it bounces off the white paint and around the four walls within a second, heart now hammering in his chest, and when he finds you, spine stiff, eyes peeled wide in terror, something in him breaks.

You're standing in front of the crib, Emmaline cradled tightly in your arms, rapid rise and fall of your chest too fast, too uncontrolled, your usual whimsical, effortless beauty marred by a grim absence, your body frozen into a cage around the baby, empty gaze locked on the floor.

He recognizes it immediately. Knows it too well, knows it in himself better than anything else, a cursory reaction pushing him forward- his touch over yours, his hands supporting Emma's weight. You gasp into him, wild, staggered breaths that make his stomach twist, and he rubs a soothing palm down your spine. "It's okay." He coos. "You're okay, just breathe. I'm here. You're safe, mama, I've got you." Emma hollers, confused and scared, and he pulls her into his chest, holding her there with one arm, another still tethered to you, trying to jog you back to yourself, to your body. To him. "Just breathe, sweetheart. You're alright, take a big breath."

It doesn't work, and he can't do both, so he makes a split second decision, one he hopes doesn't make everything worse. "I know, baby girl. I know. Mama's alright, she's okay." He bounces Emma, relaxing a fraction when her crying settles, and then leans in to cup your cheek, tipping your face up to his. "I'm going to put her in the living room, honey. In the pack and play, okay? I'll be right back. Jus' keep breathing." You give him nothing except for an attempt at a deeper inhale, and he soothes Emma with a close cuddle, finding your phone and pulling it from the dresser to make sure the baby isn't left alone in the dark.

She goes into the little pen in the living room so easily, already nearly asleep again, and he pats her back for a moment, ensuring she's comfortable before running into the room, back to you.

You're blinking now, cheeks wet and shining in the dark, breathing a bit less haggard, and it kills him, haunts him, to see you so terrified, so lost in your own head. "Hey sweetheart. Can you hear me?" He touches you carefully, intentionally, the lack of resistance encouraging to the point he feels confident enough to hold you, cradling your head against his chest, curled over your body like a shield.

"Si-Simon." Your fingers tighten into his side.

"It's me. I'm here, I've got you."

"Em..."

"She's in the next room. She's okay." He smooths a palm over your temple, into your hair. "Let's take a look at you, sweet girl, can we do that? Can you look at me?" You tilt back, eyes and lids sluggish, but with it, conscious, and the anxious knot in his heart relaxes slightly.

"The lights." You stammer, and he nods.

"The electric went out. Did it scare you?" You give him a confused look, like you didn't hear him, or didn't understand. He strokes a thumb across your tear stained cheek and repeats himself. "It's okay, did the dark give you a fright?"

"N-no. Not..." You shake with the denial. "It's... is there a fire?"... what? He cocks his head. A fire?

Oh.

Oh.

His sweet, sweet girl. Not afraid of the dark, only lost and tormented by your grief. Terrified of losing again, trapped in a nightmare that is all too familiar to him.

"No, there's no fire, angel. I'm right here. I'm here, with you." He uncurls your frozen fingers to splay them flat against his chest, over where his heart thumps steadily, covering it with his own. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"You promise." You croak, and he hums, rocking you slowly, gently swaying in the dim light of the phone's flashlight.

"I promise." He swallows the shiver in his voice, burying his nose atop your hair, holding you as tightly as he can. "I swear. Nothing could keep me from you, nothing. Remember?" You rasp out a yeah, feathery soft and feeble, and he kisses the crown of your head, sweet and slow, rubbing your back, your shoulders, kneading the tension from your muscles until the glaze of your panic fades, somber expression tightening across your face. "None of that." He whispers, because he knows what you'll say, he know how you'll try to apologize, try to explain it. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

He gets you folded up on the couch in his arms after locating and lighting most of the candles, setting up a few flashlights in the bathroom and bedroom, collection of mix matched scents littering the coffee table. You're weepy and exhausted, watching Emma sleep in the pack and play, her blissful little face sugar plum sweet as she dreams, and he tucks you into his chest, laying you down, facing her, mouth pressing little kisses to your temple, your cheek, your ear.

"Close your eyes." He encourages when you yawn. "You can sleep. I just want to hold you." The fireplace pops, and you crack an eyelid wide.

"She might wake up." You mumble.

"I know, I'll get her." He soothes, and you wilt, easily reassured by him, something that makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps his fingers moving, stroking across your skin, settling you into twilight, and just as you slip into your own dreams, he whispers a final testament, something he carries with him, every second of every day. "I've got you. I've got you both."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

[dmitriene]

könig is big man, with his fair share of a wide and muscular back, voluminous hard biceps and a chunky belly that has its own good amount of fat, paired with thick and fully rounded chest, as well as meaty thighs that always hugged nicely in every pants he wears.

but, it also means that könig eats more than well — full nourishing meals, high calorie side dish with something meaty, salad with fresh vegetables or just chopped vegetables on a plate next to him, something to wash it all down with and a small dessert.

he eats a lot, that you could notice, but all the calories go into the muscles he builds up in the gym and on runs, as well as in the military, where he needs to be strong and in good shape, and he more than doesn't mind gaining weight if he has to eat what you cook for him.

of course, you don't do everything alone — könig knows how to cook well and is also versed in his native, austrian cuisine, an activity that distracts him quite well, considering that it is difficult for him to stand still in one place for a long time, and cooking allows him to move around a lot, side by side with you, which brings him pleasure.

at the same time, both of you can enjoy delicious, hot dishes afterwards, and then bake some delicious dessert, maybe this time könig will even share more recipes from his childhood with you.

but for now, let him thank you for a delicious lunch with little, warm kisses that are slowly pass from your lips to your neck, flesh already blooming with love bites and hungry hickeys.

who knows, maybe this time the dessert is you.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

#.𐙚july's writings #konig x female reader #konig fluff #könig x fem reader #konig comfort #könig fluff #könig drabble #konig x reader #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #cod konig #domestic!könig #könig headcanons #konig headcanons

[menubot]

Welcome to Ratner's, would you care for the menu? http://menus.nypl.org/menus/28805

#menubot #What's On The Menu? #NYPL #1987 #Ratner's #FRIED FLOUNDER With tartar sauce served with two vegetables and fresh chopped salad

[aarohij]

Colorful Creations: Mastering the Art of Vegetable Paratha Cooking

Parathas are the unhinged part of Indian households. From basic plain parathas to flavorful vegetable parathas, they contain nutrients, flavors, and colors. If your kid refuses to eat veggies, you can add them to your parathas with the necessary spices to make them eat veggies without knowing. Vegetable parathas are best for testing and health and can be included in any meal. In this blog, we will help you master the art of vegetable parathas to amaze your taste buds and health and brighten up your dining table. You can opt for chopped vegetable delivery online in Bangalore to save yourself from chopping troubles.

The Basics of Vegetable Parathas

The traditional way of making a vegetable paratha consists of whole-wheat flour, however, you can also use millet or chickpea flour for additional nutrients and flavors. You need to prepare a soft dough for a good vegetable paratha.

You can make vegetable paratha with any vegetable you like such as potato, onion, carrots, spinach, peas, and more. You can either create a mixed veg paratha using all these veggies as well for the best taste and texture.

Without proper spices, the parathas are going to taste bland. You can add common spices such as salt, cumin, coriander, turmeric, chili powder, and garam masala. You can create flavors according to your taste buds.

However, vegetable chopping can be the biggest task while making vegetable paratha, so you can opt for fresh-cut vegetable delivery online to ease up your task.

Techniques for Perfect Parathas

To make a perfect paratha, you need to make small dough balls, flatten them in a circle, fill the vegetable filling in the center, carefully seal the edges, and flatten again until it starts spilling.

Heat a griddle or non-stick pan to cook the paratha. You can use ghee or oil on both sides until it looks golden brown. You can use a spatula to press it to ensure even cooking.

Follow a similar process with the other side too until it gets golden brown. You can brush it up with ghee for additional richness.

Adding a Twist

You can always experiment with the filling of the paratha as it will taste good with everything. You can mix and match different vegetable combos, spices, and herbs to provide different tastes every time.

You can always add cheese and paneer to your paratha for richness and creaminess. Putting paneer in a paratha can also be healthy as it has protein in it.

Though paratha tastes good on its own, however, if you incorporate it with sides like green chutney, mint chutney, yogurt, raita, or pickle, parathas can taste better than ever.

You can always opt for fresh vegetable delivery in Bangalore to save yourself time and trouble.

Tips for Success

A few additional tips that you should follow to make extremely delicious parathas-

Always knead your dough soft and pliable for making soft rotis. You should always cook parathas on medium heat for even cooking, and lastly, keep practicing until you perfect the art of paratha making.

Parathas for Everyday Health!

Parathas are not just a common meal; it is an art where you can experiment with flavors. With the right technique and ingredients, you can cook delicious parathas every day. It does not have to be the same every day as you can experiment with different vegetable fillings to make paratha more colorful and healthy. Incorporating paneer, curd, and other items can add an extra pinch of taste and nutrients, making paratha a complete meal. Order from online cut vegetable delivery in Bangalore to buy fresh veggies for your parathas.

#order vegetables online #fresh green vegetable #buy fresh vegetable #online chopped vegetables #buy chopped vegetables online #order fresh fruits and vegetables online #fresh chopped vegetable #chopped vegetable store online in bangalore #fresh vegetable online #chopped vegetables delivery

[inhydrogreens]

Buy Hydroponic Brinjal Online in Delhi NCR | Inhydrogreens

Hydroponic Brinjal is a rich source of dietary fibre hence promotes digestion. It helps in maintaining blood sugar and cholesterol levels. It contains phytonutrients which protects our cells from getting damaged and has strong anti-bacterial properties.

#Hydroponic Brinjal online #Green Basket #Hydroponic Salad Store In Delhi NCR #Hydroponics Vegetables Online #Hydroponics Store Near Me #Hydroponic Vegetables Stores in Delhi NCR #Buy Hydroponic Chives online #Buy Hydroponic Herbs Online #Buy Fresh Herbs Online #Mix Lettuce Box #Buy Online Microgreens Box #Buy Hydroponic Microgreens #Hydroponic Vegetables Online #Leafy Green Vegetables in Delhi #Fresh Herbs Online Delhi #Buy Chopped Vegetables #Chopped Vegetables Online

[verstappen-cult]

hiii idk if youre doing reqs rn but how about lestappen x reader where shes unused to being taken care of, having to succumb to the fact she needs help after an injury (nothing too graphic like maybe a sprained ankle or a broken wrist) and max and charles trying their best to make her understand that they *want* to help and that she has to let them and her yk kinda warming up to the idea idkkk😭 feel free to ignore it i js thought it was sweet✋️😔

You turn on the kitchen lights and Charles and Max are immediately pausing the game and turning around, surprised to see you supporting all your weight in your left leg, while keeping your balance by leaning against the wall.

Max is up in a blink of an eye. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” He helps you walk to one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

“I wanted something to eat.” You say, sitting down and trying not to show how relieved you are. Your ankle is still hurting but you don’t want to worry them.

“You could’ve just told us.” Charles joins you and Max in the kitchen. “What do you want?” He asks you while walking towards the fridge.

You wince, looking down at your hands. “I can prepare something. You’re busy.”

“We were just playing FIFA.” Max leans down to leave a kiss on your cheek. “We weren’t exactly busy.”

“Still,” You argue back, this time looking at your blonde haired boyfriend. “I can do it myself.”

“You’re supposed to be resting, or you’re not gonna get better.”

Charles is right.

And just because of that you accept his offer to make something to eat.

“I’d like some pasta, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Charles frowns as he takes all the ingredientes out of the fridge. “If it’s not too much trouble? Are you hearing yourself?”

Max gives him a disapproving look when he sees you look away.

“You sit here and we’re gonna take care of it, okay?” Max smiles before helping his boyfriend to avoid any incident like it always happens when Charles cooks. Or tries to.

While they’re occupied you think that is a good idea to take a shower to feel fresh and clean before dinner.

But the second you move to get up, Charles is by your side ready to help you.

It makes you feel a lot of things, some good and bad — especially some bad ones. Because the last thing you wanted was to cause trouble and have them running behind you to help with whatever you need, forcing them to cancel events to stay at home with you. Which is exactly what happened.

“What do you want?”

You groan, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll run a bath for you.” Charles smiles brightly, forcing you to sit back down. But you don’t let him get away, grabbing his wrist.

“I can do it,” You feel stressed and a burden, and there are tears pricking your eyes. “You don’t need to do everything for me.”

Max stops chopping the vegetables to pay attention to you. “We know that,” He says with a weird expression on his face that you don’t really want to think about right now. “we’re trying to help you. You fell down and are in a lot of pain even if you want us to believe otherwise.”

You blush because you thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding how bad you actually feel.

“When we said that we want to take care of you, it was because we mean it. Nothing is more important than you.” Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles, while you feel really small and scolded like a little kid.

“I just–,” You hide behind your hands, finally letting the tears fall freely down your face. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

They stay silent for a few minutes. And then, you feel Max arms on your back while Charles lifts your chin up with his fingers. They look softly at you which only makes you cry harder.

“Oh, princess.” Max wipes the tears with the pad of his fingers. “We love you. Of course we want to take care of you and help with anything you need. You’re never gonna be a burden for us, okay?”

“I know you’d do the same for us.” Charles lets you rest your head against his chest as the both of them hold you in their arms. “Will you let us take care of you?”

You want to say no, but deep down you want to be taken care of. But you’re so used to doing everything by yourself, you never had someone worrying this much for you, never had someone who cared. And now you don’t have one but two people willing to drop everything just to take care of you.

You nod against Charles’ chest, tears still flowing down your face, and whisper, “Okay.” Even if you still want to fight against it and do everything by yourself.

Maybe things need to change a little.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #lestappen x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".

warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!

part two of ravish

There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you. 

However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most. 

Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago. 

Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.

Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting. 

But alas, there’s still no sign of him. 

“Dammit Joel, where are you?” 

You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.

It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.

Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were. 

The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest. 

You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing. 

You did enjoy the punishments that followed though. 

A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile. 

Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic. 

“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch. 

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention. 

It’s him. 

He’s here. 

His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?” 

You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin. 

“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock. 

Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?” 

“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.” 

You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up. 

His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down. 

“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant. 

“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?” 

“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?” 

You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.” 

“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.” 

“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.” 

His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases. 

With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door. 

Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.

With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.

The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.

You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.

As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.

"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.

His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.

Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.

Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely. 

“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.” 

You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"

He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?” 

Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning. 

“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?” 

“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it. 

The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.” 

“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?” 

He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?” 

You remain silent. 

“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” 

“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.” 

“‘bout what?” 

His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch. 

“I really really like you, you know.” 

“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” 

You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words. 

“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .” 

You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?” 

“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.” 

“Well. .  . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.” 

“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly. 

His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.  

“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.” 

“R-Really?” 

He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.” 

Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas. 

Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?” 

“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?” 

“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.

“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.” 

The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.

You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?” 

His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.” 

All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see. 

“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.” 

Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista. 

The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless. 

Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought. 

Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?” 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now? 

“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn. 

It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare. 

“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?” 

Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on. 

“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible. 

“I love your streams!” 

“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.” 

“Can I get a picture?” 

Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead. 

You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.” 

Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star. 

His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?” 

“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook. 

“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest. 

“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?” 

“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”

“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly. 

Joel snarls, “Assholes.” 

“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest. 

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?” 

“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.” 

“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?” 

Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.

You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.

Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.

Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.

"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs. 

You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.

"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."

He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . .  know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already. 

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.” 

Mine. 

One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were. 

Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead. 

“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.” 

No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.

You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop. 

That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.

The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes. 

His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly,  showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.

"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?” 

The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask. 

Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood. 

“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.” 

His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?” 

"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"

You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."

His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.” 

Oh, fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.

Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling. 

“Go and start the stream, honey.” 

Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds. 

With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.

"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."

You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree. 

You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds. 

“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?” 

His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous. 

But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.” 

Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response. 

A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—

His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort. 

Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases. 

His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back. 

“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.” 

Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact. 

Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue. 

Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin. 

Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?” 

God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you. 

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.” 

He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.  

Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.” 

His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.” 

Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.” 

Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.” 

Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.” 

 “‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.” 

He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.” 

Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air. 

“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.” 

You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.

Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder.  You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you. 

You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling. 

Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.” 

Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound. 

You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.  

“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come. 

“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor. 

“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.” 

“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera. 

“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease. 

Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off. 

He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes. 

You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.” 

“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.” 

You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead. 

“Well, good thing I’m here then.”  

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #webcam model!reader #joel miller au #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

[punkbakerchristine]

pork schnitzel with roasted potatoes and carrots and honey mustard

absolute dynamite 🔥

#schnitzel #pork chops #pork #roasted vegetables #roasted carrots #roasted potatoes #amateur cooking #mine #hello fresh

[fisheshavegill]

--- Crazy Rich Asians.

「 ✦ CRA ✦ 」

sunghoon fanfic! fem reader!

" its not my job to make you feel like a man, i can't make you something you're not "

word count : 2.1k

no proof read

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The Park Family was widely known for their lavish lifestyle, grandeur mansions, and a fleet of luxury cars that would make anyone envious. They were considered to be one of the most prestigious families in the entire country. However, despite their perfect appearance, some rumors were circulating about their family that were quite controversial. Despite the neatly ironed curtains and immaculate gardens that surrounded their mansions, there were whispers of deceit, betrayal, and scandal that lurked behind their opulent lifestyle. What was going on behind closed doors was anyone's guess, but it was clear that there was more to the Park Family than met the eye.

CURRENT TIME

Screaming and then proceeded to throw a flower vase.

After a few moments of throwing various items on the floor in a fit of frustration, you began to feel winded and paused to catch your breath.

You stood there, panting heavily, noticing movement out of the corner of your eye and turned to see two of the maids peering at you through the small gap in the partially closed door.

Their eyes widened in surprise as you locked gazes with them.

The fear in their faces as they realized they had been caught spying on you. Without a word, they quickly turned and scurried away, leaving you alone in the now-quiet room.

As they stormed out of the room, you slammed the door shut with a loud bang. The only witnesses to this scene were the maids, who stood their peering to you earlier, unsure of what to do or say.

The maids were now busy working downstairs, cleaning and cooking the kitchen for their owner’s lunch. As they worked, they engaged in a conversation about their owner’s wife, Mrs. Park. One of the maids curiously asked, "What's been happening with Mrs. Park lately?" The other maid, who was chopping some fresh carrots, replied, "I heard a rumor that she saw a leaked photo of Mr. Park sleeping with another woman while he was on a business trip." 

The head maid overheard their conversation while she was inspecting the house and immediately intervened. She scolded the maids and reminded them of their duties. She warned them that their laziness and idle talk could cost them their jobs. She was a strict disciplinarian and expected her staff to uphold the highest standards of professionalism. 

The two maids quickly returned to their duties, one mopping the kitchen floor while the other continued to chop the vegetables. The head maid kept a watchful eye on her staff, ensuring that they performed their duties to the best of their abilities.

The head maid, is an elderly woman who has been with the Park family for decades. She started working for them when Mr. Park Sunghoon was just a baby and has since then become a trusted and loyal member of the family. With her extensive experience, she has become an invaluable asset to the household, where she oversees the smooth running of the daily activities.

However, due to some reason, Mr. Park Sunghoon had requested that the head maid be transferred to his house. It is not clear what prompted this request, but it is believed that he wanted her to oversee the daily running of his house and his ‘wife’. Despite the move, the head maid continues to be a highly respected and valued member of the Park family.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SUNGHOON’S POV 

Seated at a long glass table with his employees, he listened as they discussed their company's upcoming plans. However, he couldn't help feeling bored as the conversation revolved around collaborating with other brands, something he strongly despises. 

His tired eyes drifted towards the window where he gazed at the bustling streets and towering buildings of the city. He let out a deep, tired sigh, feeling drained by the conversation with a disinterested expression on his face, he picked up his glass of champagne and slowly made his way towards the door, that signaled the employees that he expects the team to revisit the plan and make necessary revisions as quickly as possible.

 The way he closes the door conveyed a strong sense of disappointment, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that he was not satisfied with the outcome of the meeting.

As Sunghoon walks swiftly, his secretary rushes to catch up with him, panting slightly. The secretary takes a deep breath  "Mr. Park, I'm sorry to inform you that your head maid has called multiple times during the meeting."

Sunghoon stops walking abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise and frustration. He turns to his secretary, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I thought it wasn't urgent." The secretary stammers 

Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief and reaches out his hand, , "Give me my phone." The secretary quickly retrieves it from her pocket and hands it over to Sunghoon.

It was a rare occurrence to witness the head maid calling. However, whenever she did, it was an indication that something serious was happening in the house.  He hurriedly  started walking back to his office, all the while trying to reach the head maid on the phone. Despite his attempts, the head maid remained unresponsive. 

As he sinks into his black leather desk chair, his frustration mounts with each unsuccessful redial of the head maid's number. Despite his efforts, the call won't connect. Under his breath, he mutters a string of expletives, his irritation palpable.

As Mr. Park was sitting in his office, his secretary was quietly shuffling papers in the corner. Suddenly, he looked up at her  "Please reschedule everything today and move it by tomorrow." He then finished the last sip of his champagne and left the office.

As he stepped out of the building, he squinted his eyes for a few seconds before noticing his car had arrived. He walked towards the service driver, who was already standing next to the vehicle.  While thanking the driver for delivering his car.  He firmly stated that he would be driving, eager to take control of the vehicle himself. The driver handed over the keys, and he quickly got into the car, buckling up his seatbelt and starting the engine. 

As he drove down the winding road towards his mansion, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that he was finally back home. With one hand on the steering wheel, he frantically dialed the number of the head maid, hoping to catch up on whats happening. The other hand nervously tapped against the car's leather interior.

The drive wasn't long, but it felt like an eternity to him. Finally, he arrived at his exquisite mansion, which stood tall and proud amidst the lush greenery of the surrounding garden. He parked his car near the entrance and stepped out, taking in the fresh scent of the blooming flowers and the cool breeze that rustled through the trees.

As he approached the front door, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the last time he had been here. It had been weeks since he had set foot in his own home.  The scent of the house felt so surreal for him because he hadn't come home yet ever since he went on a business trip. 

As he made his way towards the colossal doors, he couldn't help but observe the gloomy atmosphere of the house. The emptiness of the space was palpable and the silence was deafening. However, amidst the eerie stillness, he suddenly heard the distinct sound of keys clacking and female whispers that seemed to be discussing how they were going to open the door. 

The head maid was nowhere to be found. But just in the right time he saw her walking down the stairs towards him. 

“Long time no see, Sunghoon,” the head maid said with a deep bow.

“Why weren’t you picking up the phone?” Sunghoon asked, raising his eyebrows in frustration.

“My apologies, I must have left it somewhere,�� the head maid replied, looking around nervously.

“So, what brings me here then?” Sunghoon asked, trying to control his temper.

“Your wife,” the head maid replied, her voice hushed.

Sunghoon's face contorted with anger. "What happened to her?" he demanded to know.

“She has locked herself in the bedroom since lunchtime and she hasn’t been eating for the past few days,” the head maid explained, her tone concerned.

“I suppose that you have the keys to it,” Sunghoon said, trying to remain calm.

“I don't. She must have kept it in her hands,” the head maid replied with a shrug, sensing Sunghoon's frustration.

Sunghoon deeply sighed in frustration and put his palm to his forehead. He went upstairs and moved out the two maids who had been trying to find the right keys for hours. He knew that his wife was going through a tough time, but his impatience was getting the best of him. He deeply sighed before knocking on the door.

“Love, it’s me, Sunghoon. Open the door, please. I’m begging you,” he pleaded as he knocked on the door repeatedly.

He waited for a response but still heard nothing. So he repetitively knocked on the door and kept calling his wife on the phone with his other hand.

Sunghoon  in question was known for his exceedingly brief fuse, a characteristic that had been observed by the household staff to be progressively deteriorating. It was evident that his temper was getting worse as he grows up, as all the housemaids could sense Sunghoon's fury even from a distance when his wife wasn’t replying. The tense atmosphere in the household was palpable, and it seemed that everyone was walking on eggshells, afraid to set him off.

Without any hesitation, Sunghoon mustered all his strength and threw his shoulder into the locked door.

But no matter how hard he pushed, it just wouldn't budge. Frustrated, he stepped back to assess the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he decided to take a different approach. He used all his leg strength to deliver multiple kicks.

The door creaked and groaned under the force, but it soon gave way.

Despite the loud noise, no one came to stop him. After all, it was his house and he had every right to do as he pleased. 

As he opened the door to the room, he was taken aback by the sight that greeted him.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the spacious room as he looked down to see pieces of glass scattered all over the polished marble floor.

He couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the room. As he inspected the whole room, he noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. However, the sound of running water caught his attention, and he realized that you must be in the bathroom.

He quickly made his way towards the bathroom, pushing aside broken glass that crunched beneath his feet. The maids followed him cautiously. Reaching the bathroom door, he found it closed. Without wasting any time, he knocked gently on the door, hoping you would answer. As he waited for a response, he let out a sigh, still trying to piece together what had happened.

As he stood outside the bathroom door, "Love, it's me, Sunghoon." He waited for an answer but didn't get any response. After 5 seconds of silence, he opened the door. There, he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, with the shower head pouring cold water over you. The maids, including the head maid, who were present in the room, were in shock at the sight of you.

Without wasting any time, Sunghoon sprang into action and swiftly turned off the running water. He carefully checked your pulse to see if there were any signs of life.

Upon discovering that you were still alive. In a calm and steady voice, he informed the maid that you had fainted but were still breathing. "Please call emergency services right away," he said, gesturing towards the door. The maid nodded and immediately left to make the call. Sunghoon remained by your side, , as he waited for the help to arrive.

Sunghoon lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the other room. As he walked through the space, his attention was drawn to the state of the room you shared together. He couldn't help but notice the mess that you accumulated, with clothes, books, and other items scattered all over the place.

...... TO BE CONTINUED  .....

this was all written for three hours so yk i was kinda rushing AHHAHAHHA

++ made a few edits because i reread this story and the ending kinda made me feel ehhhh

_

Continuation - C.R.A II

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enha sunghoon #fanfic #fantasy