Tumgik
#sugar spice and can’t play nice
bookishbethanyerin · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
•ARC Review: Sugar, Spice, and Can’t Play Nice •
Whether you love an arranged marriage plot or are looking for a palate cleanser, Sugar, Spice, and Can’t Play Nice will do the trick.
The second book in a series of interconnected standalones focusing on a group of friends from Indian backgrounds who live in New York City, the story focuses on Payal, a posh British-Indian who is launching her own fashion line, and Ayaan, a family friend who is a bit of a black sheep and has more than a bit of a playboy reputation.
After a one-night stand ends in disaster for them, Payal and Ayaan are informed by their families that as part of a business acquisition, the two of them beed to agree to an arranged marriage. And though neither of them *wants* to marry the other, they both temporarily agree – but throw in their own stipulations.
From there, you go on a bit of a slow-burn journey as Payal and Ayaan start getting to know each other in earnest, and though nothing about the plot will surprise you, it’s still a very nice time as these characters warm to each other, navigate their families, and help each other grow.
I especially love that Annika Sharma writes this big cast of diverse characters from the Indian diaspora with so much care and nuance, really showcasing the breadth of experiences and differing expectations that people who grew up in differwnt places have – as well as the rich cultural commonalities and understanding that bring these characters together.
Overall, this is a fun, quick read that also serves up some drama and a teeny bit of angst – and that features The Penrose, one of my favorite Manhattan spots when I lived in NYC.☺️
3.5🌟
0.75🌶️
👗An enormous thank you to Sourcebooks Casablanca for the opportunity to read and review an advanced copy!💕
0 notes
ghostykapi · 3 months
Text
sugar ‘n spice, everything nice, turn on the lights
kim dahyun & idol!fem!reader // sapphics being sapphics + spicy so scram while you can
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"hi"
she’s the goofy one, the one with many tricks up her sleeve, the one who can spot the camera and make it fall in love with her
“hello my darling”
you’re the serious one, the one who’s always the looming presence behind her, the one who’s eyes can burn through a person’s soul if you wanted to
despite all that, there you both are, the “goofy” one sitting down on the couch reading through a novel and the “serious” one bothering the former by doing all kinds of possible distractions, giving up midway
“when will you give your girlfriend attention” you whine, almost distracting dahyun, who has dealt with your ass since you’ve both debuted “it’s been 4 hours!”
“just a few more pages my love” dahyun’s eyes don’t even leave the book, leaving you grow more desperate than ever “almost done”
you can’t even argue, not when her left hand is on your thigh, the light firm squeeze reminding you how much she can do if you don’t behave
“fineeee” you can’t even argue, not when she looks adorable while wearing her glasses. you’ve already have taken more pictures than you should and maybe a video or two of you poking her check while reading
so you wait, you wait for what feels like an eternity, when in reality it only took 5 minutes. afterall you have been waiting, not that patiently, on dahyun's lap for 2 out of the 4 hours she's been reading
it's when she closes the book and sets it down do you pounce, but not in a sexy let's go fuck! right now way. rather evertime she finishes reading for the day, she has to deal with you and your energy with activities that she knows you already planned the moment a day like this comes by
"darling darling darling!!" like a golden retriever, you seemingly become hyper when giving her affection in the comfort of your own home. the attack of kisses she receives makes her squeal, hands finding her way to your waist to make you slow down
"so much energy" she teases, but she makes you stay still so she can kiss you properly. the gentleness calming you down just a little bit “what do you want to do today?”
you’re beaming smile at the question makes her think that you might want to do a physical activity today, maybe go back to that pottery class or go to that favorite niche shopping district of yours.
“nothing!” is what you say, and it takes her by a bit of surprise “just want to cuddle”
“nothing?” she repeats, tilting her head to the side, her hands playing with your shirt “don’t you want to go out? didn’t you send me 10 other tiktoks of where we should go?”
“i did” you confirm, brushing the stray hair out of her face, and despite your height difference, you still look so ‘tiny’ on her lap like this “just wanted to stay in today, cuddling with you”
kissing her again, you take this one slow, savoring the way you melt further into her and the way she’s smiling, all giggly with her hands under your shirt, finding the skin of your lower back and rubbing circles
“i know we can go out” you reason with dahyun, kissing her in between every few words said “but i just wanted to have your full attention and to kiss you like this any time i like”
dahyun can feel these words make her heart into mush, her defense crumbling down as you keep on kissing her. her so call attempt to get you to calm down now floating away
of course, anything gentle can change to into something different if someone changes their movement, even in the slightest.
into something a bit heavier.
into desire.
need.
“hi” dahyun looks up at you, her blush reaching down her neck, while whatever lipgloss you’ve had that afternoon already smeared against her lips
“hi” you haven’t even begun, but with the desire swirling in her eyes you know what you both just need
so it barely takes a few minutes for you to drag her to your shared bedroom and for you to absolutely pin her down against the mattress and kiss her again.
“my girl” she’s out of breath but she doesn’t even stop you from taking her breath away with kisses “my pretty girl”
even if dahyun is pinned down on your shared bed by you, it’s her who has control. it is her impatient hands that are taking off your shirt, and her mouth find it’s way to your neck, absolutely marking it as bad as she can do
you can barely even stop her, your desires completely taking over you. your cravings haven’t been met for so long, you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from you
“darling” before you let her take full control, you manage to pull her away, although the line of spit from her mouth to your neck making you want to pull her back in “wanna feel you”
dahyun is nothing but a doting girlfriend, but when you push her down to your thigh, she lets you take control just for a little bit. she lets you take off her clothes, her eyes admiring the way neck is now stained with marks
she lets her ego go up higher than it should be, all because you look too good marked up by her. it just sounds so tempting, makeup artist be damned, she wants to see the whole world lose it when they see the way you would display her love bites
“eyes up here” you snap her out of it by the time you manage to get rid of both your clothes, your entire body now ingrained in her mind, imagining which spots can she put more marks made by her mouth
“mhm” she’s distracted, which is perfect for you. so you gently guide her to your thigh once more and let her slowly grind on you. her wetness evident as she easily glides on your skin, her breath coming in short pants
“you ok there darling?” you observe her, as she finally takes over and grinds unto your thigh by herself. her eyes hazy with love and lust, hands gripping your shoulders, mouth watering just by looking at you admiring her, smirking at how much you’ve got each other so desperate
dahyun snaps when you giggle, bring one of her fingers to your mouth, give her a show by sucking on it all while flexing your thigh
she lets out a sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, while she pulls her fingers away but pulls you close to kiss you. it’s driving her crazy feeling your tits right against hers and your whimpers fueling her up
“i love you” dahyun’s words match with her eyes, love pouring over as you hold her close, and her still grinding on your thigh “oh gosh i love you so much baby”
she doesn’t let you answer as she quickly kisses you again, your whimpering mingling in with her moans
“my woman” you manage to let out, your quickly growing desperation finally matching with her’s “my woman, mine. mine mine mine mine mine”
“yours” she already sounds breathless, her hands gripping your shoulders too tight you swear you’re going to end up with it red “i’m all yours baby–hngg ugh–‘m all yours!–hngg!–only yours”
“i can feel you” you’re own wetness already dripping down your legs, and you can’t even fathom waiting for another minute to attend to it. you need to feel dahyun cum, you need to feel her shake and explode before she ruins you into nothing but tears, broken moans and a sore body
“cum for me darling”
she does, with her eyes rolling back and her body shaking at bit. your name slipping out her lips like a prayer and you answer, yours arms wrapping around her body as she tips her head up for a kiss
you both slowly make out to help her come down from that high, her energy regaining with each whimper you make. her ambition to make you feel good coming in hot
“my turn” by the shift of her tone to a low and seductive one, she end up sounding so dominant, that it sends your brain into rethinking if this was the same dahyun who goofs off with you during practice
and you can barely keep up, that by the time you realize what is happening, she’s already lubed up your favorite strap and slowly pushing into you alf while your tits being sucked and pulled on
“look at you” she taunts, her strap already fully inside you by the time she pulls away “you look so gorgeous like this”
you let out a embarrassingly loud moan at how deep she is inside of you, her slowly pumping in and out with the occasional deeper hard thrust that sends your body twitching
“pretty woman” she lets her hips snap, your choked up moans only sending her brain to think of fucking you more “no one fucks you like this but me”
you moan at that, her tone sending you into a bit deeper into her spell. she barely talks like that, but when she does, it works too well on you
“yeah no one does” your voice is strained, mind already on the way to being broken “no one fucks me–hngg ah!–like you do!”
“yeah?” you’re feeding on her ego, her thrusts getting faster and harder, each one driving a moan or a whimper out from you “you’re all ruined by me, all fucked out by me. no one can make you feel like this but me sweetheart.”
she does not stop there
“aww getting desperate are we? here let me help with making you go dumb”
“keep saying my name just like that sweet girl and i’ll keep giving you want you need”
“who can fuck you like this huh? it’s only me right?”
you can barely respond to her, even when you can feel your thighs already shaking by the impending high that’s so close already
“that’s my girl” she’s sure that you’re so close, just a bit over the edge, needing that one final push to reach that peak. so she slides her fingers towards your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves with tight small circles
"cum" dahyun commands before you reach your peak. your vision that’s already so hazy gaining white spots, your hips snapping against the base of her strap, your screams that makes your neighbors wonder if you’re alright
it takes a few minutes for you to finally calm down, with the help of dahyun’s kisses and words of praise. she holds you close to her, skin to skin, as she calms you down from that intense high
"you know i'm like" you breathe out "completely obsessed with you right?"
she only giggles before kissing you, intent to spoil you all over again
210 notes · View notes
katiexpunk · 6 months
Text
Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice | Pairing Neighbor!Joel Miller & Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary:  Part 3 of @sydneyinacoma's Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice series. Joel is your new hot neighbor and after a sexy night alone with him on Halloween (where he literally makes you squirt (!!) on his couch, you run into him after a long week at work and you two finally go on a proper date. You two eat burgers; go to a fair, and then he fucks you like it's his last day on earth. Yep <3
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.7K Warnings: Pining, flirting, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), Joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, Joel spits in readers mouth, fair date, eating, did I already say flirting, bobbing for apples. Listen, these two are just down so bad for each other. There are no descriptions of reader except for clothing & wet, curly hair. Authors Note: I legitimately feel so honored to have been part of this chapter with my Slutty Smutty Sister @sydneyinacoma -- writing this version of Joel has me creaming, and I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I want everyone to read this fic. This version of Joel is all her brainchild and I could cry at being part of it. Pls go follow Syd, she's seriously such a gem and probably the best Moot and friend a girl could ask for. ILY, bb. Sydney's Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.7K Warnings: Pining, flirting, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), Joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, Joel spits in readers mouth, fair date, eating, did I already say flirting, bobbing for apples. Listen, these two are just down so bad for each other. There are no descriptions of reader except for clothing & wet, curly hair. Authors Note: I legitimately feel so honored to have been part of this chapter with my Slutty Smutty Sister @sydneyinacoma -- writing this version of Joel has me creaming, and I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I want everyone to read this fic. This version of Joel is all her brainchild and I could cry at being part of it. Pls go follow Syd, she's seriously such a gem and probably the best Moot and friend a girl could ask for. ILY, bb. Sydney's Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2
Tumblr media
NOV 2005
You can’t stop thinking about that night at Joel’s a week ago. The way he touched you, pleasured you in a way that you've never experienced before. The way he kissed you, fervently yet soft. You could kiss him for hours and never tire. 
Not only are you craving his touch, but you also find yourself wanting to learn more about him. You want to know him. The things you’ve learned about him through Sarah and what you’ve picked up on are tiny crumbs, leaving you starving for more. 
You hope he feels the same. 
You haven’t had a chance to talk to Joel since that night, as you’ve been drowning at work. You started working for this publishing firm in college, first, as an intern, and now that you’ve finished school, you’re an editor. You agreed to take on extra responsibilities due to your coworker being out on maternity leave, which has exponentially increased your workload, on top of your boss being a micromanaging asshole. Joel’s been burning the candle at both ends. He’s working against a tight deadline on a big project for a persnickety client and Sarah’s soccer team is in the playoffs for the district championship; he’s incredibly proud but attending her neverending roster of games has left him a bit preoccupied. He never thought he would end up being a soccer dad, but life has a funny way of keeping him on his toes. 
Much like you, he’s replayed you squirting on his leather couch in his mind over and over, a never-ending lascivious reel that plays in his head as he fucks his cock at night. Joel longs to hear those saccharine sounds you make while you ride his cock, your tits bouncing in tandem with your movements. He’s kicking himself for not getting his hands, or mouth, on your pillowy breasts. The cheekiness of forgoing a bra in your bunny costume revealed a side of you that he wants to unleash. 
He wants to know everything; what keeps you up at night, what makes you double over in laughter, your ticklish spots, which movies make you cry without fail, all of your little quirks. Hell, he even wants to know if you believe in aliens. 
+++
You pull into your driveway after a long, grueling day at work. Your brain is so fried you didn’t even turn the music on for the drive home; a rarity for you since you always have music playing in your car, whether it be the FM radio or one of the various CDs you’ve collected over the years. A true indicator of your current state of being. You can’t wait to veg out on the couch, rid your mind of this shitty week, and huddle into an antisocial ball. 
After a few moments of idly sitting in your car, you peel yourself from the driver’s seat and go to retrieve your work tote from your trunk when you hear a deep voice calling out to you, one you’d recognize anywhere. You turn in the direction of the sound and find Joel. He’s clearly working on a renovation project; a miter saw, lumber and a plethora of other tools are set up in his front yard. There’s another man with him, bearing a slight resemblance to Joel. Brothers, maybe? 
“Hey, neighbor!” Joel immediately regrets his word choice, finding it oddly stiff — considering he’s had his face between your thighs. 
“Hey Joel!” You manage to shout back, despite your energy battery being crucially depleted. 
He waves for you to come over. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you’re unable to resist him. Not when he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, hair tousled, and coaxing you across the street. 
Though you feel drained, being in close proximity to Joel makes your body thrum in nerves. You’re being energized by anxious attraction. 
Joel and the mystery man greet you at the edge of the yard. 
“This is my brother Tommy. Tommy, this is my neighbor.” 
“So, this is the pretty neighbor you were tellin’ me about,” Tommy says, his southern drawl identical to Joel’s. 
Joel glares at Tommy. If looks could kill. 
Tommy holds out his hand, you tell him your name and give him your hand for a brief shake; much like Joel’s does, his palm size is large in comparison to yours and envelops your full hand. You survey the man in front of you; handsome, dark curly hair like Joel, slightly longer and free of the grays his brother sports, deep brown eyes, similar to Joel’s. The Miller genes are super fucking strong. 
“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment, his eyes dragging over your figure just a second too long. 
“I’m gonna start packin’ these tools up,” Tommy announces to Joel and then shoots him a wink. It’s obvious he wasn’t aiming for subtlety, clearly wanting to give you and his brother a moment alone. 
Joel shifts his broad frame to face you directly. You wish you didn’t feel so bashful in his presence, but it’s hard to breathe evenly when he is standing so close you can smell him - earthy and a hint of his deodorant wearing off. It should be gross to you, but you want to put his scent in a candle. You’re fucking deranged. 
“Sorry, ‘m all sweaty…” Joel apologizes, looking down at himself, remembering that he probably reeks like a locker room. 
You wave off his apology, giggling at his self-awareness. 
“I wanted to ask you somethin’,'' Joel says, gently wrapping his hand around your arm right above your elbow. Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the touch of his calloused fingers. 
“Okay…” 
“I was wonderin’...” Joel pauses, his fingers now grazing over the soft skin of your arm. 
You gulp in anticipation. “Yes, Joel?” 
“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to go on a date with me,'' he asks, his eyes dropping to his boots for a second before coming back up to meet yours, “a proper one.” 
You’re so giddy at his proposition you think you might burst.
“Well, you know…I’ve gotta check my calendar,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face. You see his face drop, but before he can sulk too much you wink at him and say, “yeah, I’d love to,” you exhale and try to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away how excited you actually are. A date. With Joel Miller. 
“You free tomorrow?” he asks, beaming, revealing the dimpled smile you’re so fond of. 
“Lucky for you, I am,” you say, feeling your skin warm. 
“Pick you up at 7?” he asks, dipping his face closer to yours, his hand now on your waist pulling you into him. 
“Works for me,” you confirm while planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, “see you then, neighbor!” you conclude, being sure to emphasize the neighbor in your words, and before he can convince you to stay, you’re sauntering across the street back to your house.
+++
It’s finally here. Your big date with Joel.
The day went by torturously slow, anticipation pulsing through your entire body. You spent almost two hours getting ready, the majority of the time trying to pick an outfit. You probably changed 30 times, trying to find the outfit that conveyed the perfect balance of sexy, yet subdued. 
You decide on a pair of dark wash flares and a lacy top, both accentuating your figure heavenly. You spritz on a little perfume you save for special occasions. If this ain’t a hell of an occasion. 
Joel, with impeccable timing, rings the doorbell right as you tug your black cowboy boots on. It’s sill relatively warm in Austin, so you decide to forgo a jacket. 
Opening the door, you and Joel take a moment to check the other out, neither of you trying to hide it whatsoever. Joel’s wearing his signature jeans and a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his veiny, strong forearms. You’d hump his arms given the opportunity. 
“Absolutely stunnin’, sweetheart,” he licks his bottom lip while his brown irises roam over your entire body, paying special attention to your waist and tits. You’re mentally patting yourself on the back for your outfit choice. 
“One could say the same for you, cowboy,” you quip back, a smug grin plastered across your face. 
Your smile shoots blood straight to Joel’s cock. 
He swallows as he realizes the night is just beginning. 
+++
Joel takes you to a quaint diner for your date. From the outside, it’s unassuming; an older building in urgent need of a pressure wash, adjacent to a virtually empty shopping center. A true hole-in-the-wall in the middle of downtown Austin. 
“It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but I promise ya, they got the best damn burgers in town,” he assures, seeing the questioning look on your face when he pulls into the parking lot. 
You and Joel slide into a booth in the far corner, Joel insisting that booth seating is part of the experience. You both order burgers, per his recommendation and boy, it does not disappoint. 
Between bites of food, you and Joel learn more about each other. The conversation flows easily, both hanging onto each other’s every word; no awkwardness or feigning interest. You both share parts of your childhoods and you share stories from your college days. Joel recounts the mischief he and Tommy got into when they were younger, earning several belly laughs from you. 
Joel loves the way you laugh; candidly, throwing your head back, your shoulders jerking uncontrollably as you try to catch a breath. 
You’re pleased to learn that both you and Joel have a fondness for 80’s action movies, especially the over-the-top-borderline-cheesy ones, and 70’s artists like Fleetwood Mac and Electric Light Orchestra.
Joel asks about your job as an editor. You tell him the different types of manuscripts you have to read; some you drudge through, others you enjoy. “I love seeing how the story progresses from the first rough draft up until the final copy,” you tell him,” a lot of authors are really full of themselves, so you have to boil down a lot of the flowery language and hubris.” 
In return, he tells you about how he got started as a contractor, hard work rewarded him with promotions until he opened up his own contracting business six years ago. “It’s priceless gettin’ to be your own boss,” he says, “not havin’ to answer to anyone, can be more selective in projects you wanna take on,” he continues, and you swear you’re listening but you’re secretly caught up in the sound of his voice and the way his lips move when he’s talking; hypnotizing you with every word.
Joel opens up about when Sarah came into this world; the happiest day of his life while simultaneously being scared shitless — he was wild and ungovernable, definitely not ready for fatherhood.  
Through the years he’s found his rhythm. He doesn’t talk about her mother and you don’t ask; you’re not looking to dig into that lore on the first date. He tells you what Sarah was like as a baby and the subsequent years. Your heart melts at the adoration and pride that glow in his eyes when he talks about his daughter. 
You both sit in the overused booth, totally absentminded to the world around you. You’re both locked into one another, afraid of missing even the faintest shift in facial expressions. You might as well be the only two people here. 
Taking the final bite of your burger, you tell Joel that you’re inclined to agree that these are the best burgers in town. 
He mumbles something to the effect of “told ya,” before finishing his last bite. 
On the ride home from the diner, you spot an illuminated Ferris wheel, glowing in the distance of the Austin night. 
“Oh, I didn’t know the fair was still in town. I haven’t been in years!” exclaiming a little loudly for a woman your age, “can we…..?” 
Joel can’t say no to you, not when you’re giving him a pleading, pouty look. 
+++ 
Once inside the fairgrounds, you both walk through the selection of vendors, and it doesn’t take long for the funnel cake sign to catch your eye; Joel purchases you one and you continue on your adventure together. 
“Here,” he says, offering you a paper napkin. 
You gently shake your head, shoving another bite of funnel cake into your mouth, “don’t need one.”
He laughs. You look like a stubborn child learning what sugar is for the first time, “you’re gonna get all sticky,” he says, a big grin enveloping his face, your eagerness for the sweetness of the battered dough reminds him of Sarah’s sweet tooth. God, you’re cute – it makes him wish she was with you both tonight. 
Well, that is until he notices it. It’s subtle, but it’s there – a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your cheek and exposed chest.
He knows this is a family event, but he wants to do anything but PG-rated things with you right now.  
He stares at the white dust on your skin until your voice catches his attention again. 
“Maybe I want to be sticky,” you reply, “gives you more to lick off of me later.” 
And fuck, if that doesn’t turn him on. 
The thought of his tongue on you sends a flood of impure thoughts to his brain; much like the ones he had when you first showed up at his door, covered in remnants of flour, all sugar and sweetness. 
He knows now.
You may be sugar, but fuck, if you haven’t got some spice in you, too. 
+++ 
As you stroll, your eyes grow wide when you see it; a yellow wooden sign with the words “bobbing for apples” in Comic Sans engraved into it. 
“Ah! Joel! Bobbing for apples! I haven’t done that since I was a kid – we have to do it!” you say, your voice is a little too eager and a little too high-pitched, but the childlike wonder on your face is all the convincing that Joel needs. He might not admit it, but he’d give you anything you want. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, letting you lead the way. 
You and Joel make your way up to the station, and a fair worker in an apron and a straw hat shouts to the crowd, “Come one, come all! Test your skills at an apple grab; the winner gets a prize,” his voice is low in octave but loud enough like he’s speaking through a megaphone. 
A line of fair-goers of all ages quickly forms around the barrels filled with water and apples, and you look at Joel with eager eyes as you step up to yours.
The rules of the game were explained by the worker with a chuckle, “Alright, folks, no hands, just your teeth. Lean in, and bob for an apple, and what you catch is yours to keep plus a prize from the booth to the right.” 
“You sure about this, sweetheart? You’re gonna get all wet,” Joel asks, probably just a smidge too concerned about your well-being considering it’s just bobbing for apples. 
“You gonna act like you don’t know that I’ve been wet this entire night?” you say, not waiting  to hear his response as the worker calls out a loud “GO!” 
Giggles and cheers fill the air as you and your fellow participants lean over the barrel. Your face disappears into the water; your competitiveness in overdrive  – edging yourself deeper and deeper into the water; so far that your shirt gets soaked. You don’t care, though, and you gleam from satisfaction as you resurface with a gleaming red apple held triumphantly between your teeth. 
The crowd erupts in applause at your efforts, and Joel stands watching you with his hands on his hips, a smile plastered on his face. As his gaze drops from the apple in your mouth, he notices the wetness of your shirt and shit, you’re positively drenched. 
It takes Joel all of .0002 seconds to notice the silhouette of your nipples peeking out from your shirt, the goosebumps littering your skin, and the tail ends of your hair wet and starting to curl under the weight of the water. 
You drop the apple from your teeth and catch it in your palm. “Well, well…looks like you’re on a date with a prize-winnin’ apple picker. Feeling lucky yet?” you tort, attempting to flirt through the uncomfortable press of the damp fabric on your skin. 
“Sweetheart, I’ve seen that mouth in action, I already knew you were going to win,” he says, “but you know I’d never thought I’d see the day…” he trails off. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly confused. 
“Never thought I’d see the day that I was jealous of a fuckin’ Red Delicious apple,” he says, humor behind his voice, “s’ashame I wasn’t the one you were bobbin’ for in that barrel.” 
“Listen, if you want to get wet and let me put you in my mouth, I am more than happy to accommodate,” you reply back, your voice flirty and suggestive. 
Joel doesn’t respond, but you see him palm himself through the denim of his jeans at your suggestion, interjecting his thoughts. 
You can’t hide the shivers that take over your body from the chill of the night air and the wetness of your clothing. 
“C’mere, baby, you’re freezin’,” he says, brow furrowed, and arms wide open stretched out to you, beckoning you into his large arms. You take a step forward and step into his brace, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his arms and the aroma of his natural scent. 
You stand there, wet in more ways than one, and let him hold you. Your arms wrap around his thick middle, and he rubs up and down your back with both palms in an attempt to warm you up. He releases you momentarily before saying, “Here, take this.”
You step away from him for a second, giving him space to slip off the flannel he’s wearing, revealing nothing but a white t-shirt underneath; the little tufts of hair peeking out through the collar of his shirt almost send you into a tailspin. 
He holds the flannel open by the collar to face you, encouraging you to put it on. You turn your back to him, allowing him the privilege of holding  it as you slip your arms into the sleeves. The fabric of the shirt is warm from his skin, and the moment you put it on you’re flooded with the smell embedded deep within the fibers; all musk, whiskey, cinnamon, wood, and Joel. 
“Come on, now, you little bobbin’ minx,  let’s go get you your prize,” he says, tilting his head to the prize booth. You grab his hand and let him lead the way this time. 
You and Joel make your way to the prize booth, the smell of kettle corn invades your senses; sure, you were already stuffed with funnel cake and your dinner, but the sweet aroma makes your mouth water. Or maybe it’s just Joel, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t really care. 
In the small structure of the prize booth, the shelves were adorned with a colorful array of stuffed animals of all sizes, trinkets, and games. You carefully assess your prize options while the attendant tries to convince you that of all of the random assortment of prizes, you absolutely need the goldfish. Right. 
You look over the options in front of you for what feels like a good ten minutes before the attendant not so subtly grows tired of your indecision. You sigh. You decide on a small puppy dog with beady plastic brown eyes, and you nod in thanks as he hands it to you, and you and Joel walk away from the booth. 
“Had a tough time decidin’ there, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” Joel asks, not really questioning. 
“Well, to be honest, none of the prizes were really appealing to me,” you respond, playing with the fluffy ears of the stuffed plush in your hands. “I only picked this one because I thought Sarah might like it,” you say. Your consideration for Sarah, and your accepting demeanor to her, warms Joel’s heart. 
“But I can think of one I’d really like to claim,” you say, catching his gaze. You see his jaw clench at your words. 
“Oh yeah? And that would be..?” 
“You,” the word comes out breathy. 
You both stop walking and the crunch of the dirt under his boots and the distant sounds of the fair in the background all but freeze as you stand there, seemingly paused in your own little private moment. 
“Take me home, Joel,” you say, planting your palm on his broad chest and stepping closer to him, your chest nearly flush against his. His hands skate down to your waist, and he closes the gap between your bodies, holding you close enough that you feel the growing bulge between his thighs. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, leaning down, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 
And it’s sweet. 
Just like the funnel cake. 
And just like he thinks you are. 
But you have other plans for him tonight. 
And he has the same for you. 
+++ 
You and Joel make your way out of the fairgrounds and to the lot where Joel parked his truck. 
Still wearing his flannel, the stuffed puppy dog intertwined between your crossed arms, you wait for him to open the passenger side door. You all but eye fuck him as he reaches into the depth of the  front pocket of his jeans and grabs his keys. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you; offering you a hand to help guide you in. 
“Always such a gentleman,” you say, placing your hand in his, accepting his offer, using the strength of his arm to help lift yourself into the bed of the truck. 
Joel rounds around the front of the vehicle, unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides in. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life and the radio turns on, “Come a Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley plays over the speakers. 
Deciding to take a note from the lyrics, you don’t bother to buckle yourself into the passenger seat, and instead slide over into the middle seat of the truck, positioning yourself tightly against Joel’s side. You lace your arm through the underside of his and interlock them, your hand curls around his firm bicep. You lean your head into his shoulder, and close your eyes, taking a moment to bask in the solitude of the strong man beneath you. 
He looks down at you for a moment – god, he could get used to this. He dwells on the thought for a moment longer and then begins to drive away. 
You’re clinging to him and you both ride like that in an easy silence, apart from the faint music and the hum of his truck. It has been so long since you felt so content, so at peace with the moment and yourself; not worried about work or life, or anything. It was just you and Joel, and you like it that way. 
Nearly back to your house, and your shared neighborhood, you let your left hand wander on the expanse of his thigh. The time for sweetness is over. The events of the night, your combined obvious want, and the flirtatious taunts catch up with you. 
Joel keeps his eyes on the road, but you don’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens as your hand makes its way closer to his belt buckle. You begin to toy with the cool metal there, and his large palm comes down to cup yours. 
“We’re almost home,” he says, holding your hand tight against his stiffening cock, not letting you move. “But I want to feel you now,” you whine. 
“I know, baby, I know you wanna get your hands on this cock, and I would like nothing more,” he says, “but you’re gonna have to be patient, we only have a few more minutes until we’re there.” 
“And why do I have to be patient, neighbor?” you ask, pulling your hand away, slightly keyed up. Greedy. Horny. 
“Because I wanna give that needy little pussy the attention she deserves,” he says, “and because once I get started, I know ‘m not gonna be able to stop.”
“And neighbor ain’t gonna be what you’ll be calling me,” he says roughly, “I’ll fuckin’ make sure of that, sweetheart.”
He takes a turn and pulls into your neighborhood. You catch a glimpse of Mrs. Morrison taking out her trash. She glares at you in disapproval as you drive past in Joel’s truck. 
You sometimes wonder what your neighbors might think; a pretty little young thing like you, the youngest daughter of their good friends, a.k.a your parents, hanging out with the older, single-father neighbor across the way. 
But truthfully, you don’t really give a fuck. 
+++ 
Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent.  You both pause in silence. 
Joel turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of invite me in behind his voice. 
You glance out the window, your house bathed in the soft glow of your porch light. You turn back to Joel and say “Thank you for tonight, I really had a fun time. But to be honest, I just realized I never got to thank you properly…” 
Joel looks at you and something dark flickers in his gaze. “And what would you need to be thankin’ me for, sweetheart?”  As if he didn’t know. 
“For the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Come in and I’ll return the favor,” you say, conjuring your sultriest voice, knowing he doesn’t need an invitation.  
You step out of the truck, and the night air is cool, a  gentle breeze whispers through your hair;  your features are illuminated by the street lights in your neighborhood, and the warm glow casts an inviting aura around you. Joel appears at your side of the truck and helps you exit. 
The gravel under your feet crunches as you walk toward the front porch; the air is charged with electricity, a livewire, a magnetic pull drawing your bodies together. 
The porch light by your door casts a warm yellow glow on your faces. You pause at the front of the step and reach for your house keys in your purse. Your porch swing sways gently in the breeze, its rhythmic creaking adding to the undertone of the moment. 
You insert the key into the lock, but before you can fully turn the doorknob to open the door, Joel already has his large palm on yours, opening the door,  pushing you through the door frame and into your house, his hands cradling your face before he crashes his plush lips into yours. 
The second you’re both fully in your house, Joel's hands are on the hem of your shirt,  silently begging for you to take it off. You let him work on getting you topless, meanwhile, your hands are hastily working to undo his belt buckle, the excitement of finally being able to touch him and him not being able to stop touching you has you worked up.  Joel presses his thighs together against yours, drawing little moans from you while he nips at your neck. 
As much as he is trying to distract you, he’s no match for your determination. In record-breaking time you have his buckle undone and the zipper of his jeans is down; you gracefully fall to your knees before him, tugging his pants and his boxers down with you to the floor. Joel’s cock releases from the confines of his clothing and slaps against his tummy, leaving a little trail of pre-cum in its wake. You already knew he was big, but having him in full view makes you realize just how big he really is. 
You lick your lips and reach out to grab his thick cock, affectionately kissing the tip of it; you run your tongue through the slit, lapping up the salty pre-cum that drips out before you circle your tongue along the underside of his head. You let your jaw go slack, and you begin to dip down on his length; a gurgling sound escapes your lips as you pull back up again. You do this a few times before letting his hard cock fall from your lips, now puffy and coated in saliva, some of it dribbling past your chin. 
You pull off momentarily and smile up at Joel. He thinks you look far too sweet and innocent for someone who is absolutely taking his cock deep in your throat like a champ. He intertwines his fingers through your hair and groans, before gently urging you back down onto his length.
“Fuck, sweetheart – can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about having that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he says slightly breathless. 
The thought of him thinking about you goes straight to your core and makes you want to mouth fuck him harder. 
You wrap your lips around him again, and he thrusts his hips to glide himself inside of your mouth to the back of your throat. 
He begins to pick up his pace, holding your head steady by your hair as he fucks into your throat, pressing deeper and deeper until spit pools at the corners of your mouth and slight tears form in the creases of your eyes. He presses you down onto him until your lips are wrapped around the base of him and the course hairs that reside there. You’re drowning in the taste of him, hardly able to breathe, but you don’t care; you want him to chase his high, to use your mouth for his own pleasure. He made you come harder than anyone ever has before; this was the least you could do for him. 
“Jesus – look at you, pretty girl, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grits out, “takin’ it so well, baby.”
His words go straight to your cunt, the ache now insufferable. 
You begin to work him harder with your tongue, struggling for air, and he inches closer to the back of your throat and you begin to gag. Joel pulls out, not wanting to hurt you, and a strand of saliva trails between your lips and his cock. You blink back tears and look up at him, your mascara now a mess on your face, and your eyes glossy. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern. 
You swallow, and reach up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You are okay. More than okay.  “Peachy. I'm relieved I finally got to return the favor,” you hum, standing to rise to meet his face. 
He wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you tight against the front of his body; you feel the warmth of his tummy, the hardness of his cock, and the strength of his back behind your grip and it makes your legs turn to Jell-O. Fuck, you need him. 
Joel kisses you for a moment, before pulling away and bringing his lips to your ear “Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl.” 
You feel your stomach swoop and your folds tingle; you have thought about this moment for so long and you yearn for the stretch of him; to know what it’s like to be filled to the brim with Joel fucking Miller. 
He kicks off his boots, steps out of the clothing bunched around his ankles, and takes your hand to follow you down the hallway into your bedroom. 
Part of him wants to take his time; to make you feel good, to taste you again, and feel you come and come on his fingers. Part of him wants to shuck down your jeans and put your pretty pussy in his face. 
Joel doesn’t particularly think of himself as a selfish man, but he has waited patiently, and he needs you. Now. 
As much as he wants the taste of you on his lips, the part of him that wants to shove himself into your addictive cunt until you forget your name until you forget every other name except for his is the dominant one right now. 
Once in the bedroom, he crowds you back until the back of your calves meet the edge of your mattress. He grabs both of your hips in a bruising grip and pulls you tight against his chest, his hips grinding into yours, and you lean your face up to kiss him. You think he might kiss you, but instead, he ghosts your lips and leans forward until your back meets the soft fabric of the mattress with an oof, and he’s on top of you. 
He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. His grip on you is firm, yet gentle. You’ve seen his brute strength in action and the fact that he could overpower you sends a shiver to your clit. 
“So beautiful, darlin’ – you know that?” he kisses your nose and trails a slew of them down your cheek, jaw, chin, and neck. Once at the nape of your neck, he nibbles on your earlobe and whispers “You ready for me, sweetheart?” his breath is heavy in your ear. 
You can’t nod fast enough in agreement. 
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he practically purrs the question. 
You want nothing more than to be a good girl for Joel. You nod almost aggressively to make up for the fact that you’re unable to construct a single sentence right now. 
He lets out a satisfied moan and drops his grip on your wrists, and drags his heavy hands down your body to the center of your jeans and undoes the button of your pants, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of both your jeans and your panties and pulls them down in one fell swoop. 
He dips down to place a delicate kiss to your tummy and lets the weight of his head rest on the softness of you. He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume comforts him, and he fights the urge to dip his face lower and bury himself in your pussy. 
You drop both of your hands and grab his head, your fingers carding through his hair, and he groans. 
“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” he says, not really questioning. 
“I am being a good girl,” you respond back, not really sure what prompted his statement. 
“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. When I put you in a position, I want you to stay there, until I say you can move. Got it?” 
And holy fuck, bossy Joel turns you on. 
You only hum in response. 
“Need you to use your words, sweet girl. Answer me, or I’ll make you,” he says, voice low, his head closer to your center now, almost to exactly where you need him but not quite. 
“Ye - ah, yes, fuck I understand,” sending all of your energy to string the words together. 
He hums in acknowledgment and pushes your hands back up overhead, telling you to keep them there, and only to touch him when he says you can. When he releases your hands and sees that your arms stay put, he rasps out a “good girl.”
He then reaches down and notches his tip at your entrance, and drags the weight of his thick cock through your glistening folds.
“Mmmm so fuckin’ wet, this all for me?” 
“All for you, J-oel,” you’re trembling, desperate to feel him deep inside you. 
He pauses momentarily, only the tip of him inside you, and god, it’s such a tease. 
You know it’ll sting, but you want him to just fucking bury every inch of himself inside of you. You don’t care about the pain; you crave the stretch of him. 
“Joel – ah, need more,” you moan, “need all of you.” 
“You sure, sweetheart? I ‘don wanna hurt you,” he says, once again concerned about you. 
“Joel, I want you to fucking wreck me. Need you to move, please.” 
After your plea, he obliges. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you, and the tip of his head drags against the spongey spot inside of you. 
Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to move in and out of you, he feels so fucking good, and you’re so perfectly full. 
“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and gruff, still continuing to saw in and out of you. ‘’Want you to look at me while I fuck you.” 
And his words are like music to your fucking ears. He’s the perfect balance of gentleman and fucking filth. 
He brings a hand down to circle your clit, and with the added sensation you’re not far off from your orgasm. You can feel it growing in your stomach with every circle of his thumb and every thrust of his cock. You open your mouth, your jaw slack, and you begin to moan. 
“Fuck, baby – you shouldn’t open your mouth like that,” he moans. 
“And – fuckkkk, why not?” You respond back, breathless from each of his thrusts. 
“Just a reminder of another hole I need to use,” he responds, and then gruffly says “Open,” while pressing his thumb and index finger into your jaw, holding you in place. 
You do as he says, and he spits into your mouth. Your eyes wide as saucers. It’s hot, dirty, filthy. 
“Taste how perfect we are together, baby” he says, still pounding into you and circling your clit. 
His words send you into fucking oblivion, and you’re gone. Your vision goes white, and despite his order to keep your eyes open, your eyes fall closed and he fucks you through your orgasm. 
Your tight, slick walls pulse and squeeze around him. His hands squeeze your hips, his fingertips bruising your skin as he rocks your limp and shaky body against his cock, chasing his own orgasm. 
Not long after you’ve come, he’s finishing too. He fucks into you at an erratic pace and then shoots his seed deep into your cunt. 
“Fuckkk, baby” – he trails off, letting the final spurts of his cum paint your walls. 
You let out a sigh, and once again drop your hands to his head, intertwining your hands with the hair behind his head. 
You both lay there in your fucked out bliss and then he pulls out of you, taking a dribble of his cum with him, a glob of it landing on your thigh. 
You’ve never felt so satisfied, to be laying there, content and full of Joel Miller. 
He rolls over onto his side and puts his hand on his chest. 
“Shit, baby. You’re perfect,” he says. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.” 
You hum in delight and roll over onto his chest, melting into him. 
“You in the mood for some cookies?” you ask, and he grins in response.
He hit the fucking lottery with you. 
END
Tumblr media
Tagging some Joel-lovers: @endlessthxxghts @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @joelmillersblog @joelsgreys @dins-riduur-anthe @joelmillers-whore @pedroswife69 @hearteyesforjoel
As always, feel free to let me know if do or don’t want to be tagged!xx
336 notes · View notes
luckykiwiii101 · 4 months
Text
Hey Upper East Siders. Want to play a game…? One condition, this time you HAVE to play by the rules. Or it’s game over…
- XoXo, Gossip Girl 💋 💌
Tumblr media
And who am i? That’s one secret i’ll never tell, You know you love me - XoXo, Gossip Girl 💋 💌
————————————————————————————————————————
♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤
————————————————————————————————————————
Hey Upper east siders.
It’s that time of year again. When the sleigh bells are jingling and people add more items to their never ending wish list.What if i told you…it’s more than just a wish list.Ever wanted something so bad that you would do ANYTHING to get it? Well luckily, i’m not talking about signing a contract in blood. You don’t even have to lift a finger, nor shed any blood…or tears. You can have everything you’ve ever wished for.You just have to play a little game. Will you accept this dance…? If the answer is yes…keep on reading.
Now that we’re nice and ready. We can get started on this super quick and fun journey. If i didn’t say this earlier, GOSSIP GIRL HERE!! and i have the BIGGEST news ever! YOU will have entered/woke up in the void state within a week and manifested your dream life! Maybe you’ll do it in less than a week, and have a holly jolly Christmas XoXo. Just depends on how determined you are.
You know what happens if you aren’t…right? There are two outcomes. Let’s go over them shall we..?
“Will you have this dance..?” “No”
(Option A)
SPOTTED: Lonely Boy. Can’t believe they didn’t want their dream life, only in exchange for a little persistence. How tragic……And EVERYONE is talking. Wonder what Blair Waldorf thinks. If only they knew how easy life was…
“Will have you this dance…?” “Yes”
(Option B)
SPOTTED: SPOTTED, On the steps of the Met: B. Looking perfect, as usual. Feeling perfect, as usual. Having everything they’ve ever wanted. So much for such little “work”. Did they really think they could just waltz over here and not manifest their dream life? So effortless, it’s almost funny.
So……Which do you choose?
(thought so)
Option B?! Good choice. Looks like Little J will have everything they want and a ticket to the inner circle. Why waste precious time dreaming when waking life is SO much better?
Luckily, your journey will be very short, and VERY sweet.
YOU’VE BEEN INVITED!
Serena Van Der Woodsen, your invitations just arrived. With strings attached. Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Tumblr media
Gossip Girl here…enough with the stalling. Now for the main event.
You will spend the next 7 days, accepting that you are a void master.
What is the void state?
Well well well. Look what we have here. An overcomplicator on our hands, caught red handed. (Just kidding, XoXo)
It’s a state of pure consciousness. When you are detached from your physical senses completely. You can’t hear, see, smell or feel anything. Must be heaven if your name is Dan Humphrey.
Did you know, that you enter the void state everytime you fall asleep? Shocked? Well don’t be. It’s nothing special. Things always work out for you after all, should be used to it by now. Doesn’t it feel weird to finally have Gossip Girl on YOUR side? Can’t wait to pry into your success soon……and write ALLLLLL about it. You better not disappoint me, you know what happens next. Don’t wanna end up like lonely boy……do you?
“But i don’t believe in the Void State.”
- Said no sane person ever. Unless your Queen B with a broken heart.
Here you go! 💋💌💋
Does little J want a virtual slap of common sense? Don’t tempt me. A few clicked pics of your journey home could turn into a journey to hell. You know you love me. XoXo.
How do I enter the void state?
(Here you go 💌💌💌)
Looks like entering the void state really IS sugar and spice and EVERYTHING nice after all.
Hear those silver bells? It’s a void master INCOMING!!!
Applying states for the void state:
(Here you go! 💋💌💋💌)
And everyone knows the biggest present comes in the smallest box………not so difficult after all.
Then there are those boxes you are SO glad you opened.
“Challenges” to apply:
EVERYONE knows that there’s no such thing as a “challenge”.
“Take one It Girl on a pedestal. Add a crowd eager to see her fall. And give them the means to knock her down. So sad how they know they’ll only be the ones who end up falling” - XoXo Gossip Girl
Is Queen B Feeling frustrated? : (Lotusmi’s void challenge)
Always finding your hands in your hair and your fist in the wall? Well this one’s for you! (💋 💋 💋)
Love complaining? Of course you do! Talk about a Blair Bitch Project.
And for the building to really blow up, all you need is an unexpected turn. Who knew changing attitudes were so helpful?Especially for the Stubborn Blair Waldorf.
Desperately Seeking Serena: (3 day void challenge)
Is Queen S feeling like she needs a whole mind reprogramming in a gorgeously short amount of time? Well it’s time to turn that mental frown, upside down! (Here you go!!! 💋♥️💋♥️)
Ah, what’s that magic word again? Oh, Consistency! Whoops! Don’t tell me you forgot too?
And anyone who’s used to bending the rules will find themselves breaking them.
Feeling like a Dare Devil?: (Void Princess challenge)
Confidence is built, and NEWS FLASH!!! You don’t need confidence to build it. No expense is spared.
(Post is here 💋💋💋)
There’s nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a little……push. Not off of a building of course………ofcourse.
Of course Gossip Girl here isn’t going to link every single void challenge here. Wouldn’t you like to come up with your own? Use your favourite one to your hearts content.
As we all know, there’s nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a surprise.
Is that a smile we see on B’s lips? The spotlight’s on her for once and no one helped her get it. I guess “miracles” can happen.
Distraction Method (made by the one and only, Gossip Girl)
Another stray thought lands in B’s lap. Will she use it as ammunition or will she surrender and put down her arms?
Here you go! 💌♥️💌♥️
What happens if Queen B doesn’t want to persist?
No, that’s not a tear in my eye. It’s just allergies. Without you, I’m nothing. —Gossip Girl
Who doesn’t love a five-finger discount. Especially if it’s the middle one.
Look who doesn’t want to end up on my blog. Who will I gossip about now?
Who cares if i’m pretty if i fail my finals?
Everyone knows that Blair Waldorf is SO much better than Rory Gilmore. Luckily for Blair, the word “failing” is unheard of. Too bad for Rory, it’s all she thinks about.
Read this 💋💋💋
Hey Upper East Siders. We hear that World War III just broke out. And it’s wearing kneesocks. Choose your side or run and hide. We have a feeling this one’s to the death.
Why should I listen to Gossip Girl?
Because “I was a teenage drug addict” is not exactly a winning college essay.
Now have a holly jolly Christmas with your every desire. You can thank me later.
Every happy ending is just a new beginning. Because on the Upper East Side, the good times ALWAYS last forever. You know you love me, XOXO —Gossip Girl 💋 💌
Tumblr media
181 notes · View notes
syd-djarin · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)
chapter three: fair game - in collaboration with @katiexpunk
*18+ Minors DNI*
Word count: ~6.5k
a/n: katie and I wrote to our slutty hearts' desires. srsly she is a smut fairy & loving friend. plz follow her. @katiexpunk
warning(s): SMUUUUUT.
tags: f & m masturbation, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v, creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, spitting (1), fair date, eating, flirting
NOV 2005
You can’t stop thinking about that night at Joel’s a week ago. The way he touched you, pleasured you in a way that you've never experienced before. The way he kissed you, fervently yet soft. You could kiss him for hours and never tire. 
Not only are you craving his touch, but you also find yourself wanting to learn more about him. You want to know him. The things you’ve learned about him through Sarah and what you’ve picked up on are tiny crumbs, leaving you starving for more. 
You hope he feels the same. 
You haven’t had a chance to talk to Joel since that night, as you’ve been drowning at work. You started working for this publishing firm in college, first, as an intern, and now that you’ve finished school, you’re an editor. You agreed to take on extra responsibilities due to your coworker being out on maternity leave, which has exponentially increased your workload, on top of your boss being a micromanaging asshole.
Joel’s been burning the candle at both ends. He’s working against a tight deadline on a big project for a persnickety client and Sarah’s soccer team is in the playoffs for the district championship; he’s incredibly proud but attending her neverending roster of games has left him a bit preoccupied. He never thought he would end up being a soccer dad, but life has a funny way of keeping him on his toes. 
Much like you, he’s replayed you squirting on his leather couch in his mind over and over, a never-ending lascivious reel that plays in his head as he fucks his cock at night. Joel longs to hear those saccharine sounds you make while you ride his cock, your tits bouncing in tandem with your movements. He’s kicking himself for not getting his hands, or mouth, on your pillowy breasts. The cheekiness of forgoing a bra in your bunny costume revealed a side of you that he wants to unleash. 
He wants to know everything; what keeps you up at night, what makes you double over in laughter, your ticklish spots, which movies make you cry without fail, all of your little quirks. Hell, he even wants to know if you believe in aliens. 
+++
You pull into your driveway after a long, grueling day at work. Your brain is so fried you didn’t even turn the music on for the drive home; a rarity for you since you always have music playing in your car, whether it be the FM radio or one of the various CDs you’ve collected over the years. A true indicator of your current state of being. You can’t wait to veg out on the couch, rid your mind of this shitty week, and huddle into an antisocial ball. 
After a few moments of idly sitting in your car, you peel yourself from the driver’s seat and go to retrieve your work tote from your trunk when you hear a deep voice calling out to you, one you’d recognize anywhere. You turn in the direction of the sound and find Joel. He’s clearly working on a renovation project; a miter saw, lumber and a plethora of other tools are set up in his front yard. There’s another man with him, bearing a slight resemblance to Joel. Brothers, maybe? 
“Hey, neighbor!” Joel immediately regrets his word choice, finding it oddly stiff — considering he’s had his face between your thighs. 
“Hey Joel!” You manage to shout back, despite your energy battery being crucially depleted. 
He waves for you to come over. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you’re unable to resist him. Not when he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, hair tousled, and coaxing you across the street. 
Though you feel drained, being in close proximity to Joel makes your body thrum in nerves. You’re being energized by anxious attraction. 
Joel and the mystery man greet you at the edge of the yard. 
“This is my brother Tommy. Tommy, this is my neighbor.” 
“So, this is the pretty neighbor you were tellin’ me about,” Tommy says, his southern drawl identical to Joel’s. 
Joel glares at Tommy. If looks could kill. 
Tommy holds out his hand, you tell him your name and give him your hand for a brief shake; much like Joel’s does, his palm size is large in comparison to yours and envelops your full hand. You survey the man in front of you; handsome, dark curly hair like Joel, slightly longer and free of the grays his brother sports, deep brown eyes, similar to Joel’s. The Miller genes are super fucking strong. 
“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment, his eyes dragging over your figure just a second too long. 
“I’m gonna start packin’ these tools up,” Tommy announces to Joel and then shoots him a wink. It’s obvious he wasn’t aiming for subtlety, clearly wanting to give you and his brother a moment alone. 
Joel shifts his broad frame to face you directly. You wish you didn’t feel so bashful in his presence, but it’s hard to breathe evenly when he is standing so close you can smell him - earthy and a hint of his deodorant wearing off. It should be gross to you, but you want to put his scent in a candle. You’re fucking deranged. 
“Sorry, ‘m all sweaty…” Joel apologizes, looking down at himself, remembering that he probably reeks like a locker room. 
You wave off his apology, giggling at his self-awareness. 
“I wanted to ask you somethin’,'' Joel says, gently wrapping his hand around your arm right above your elbow. Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the touch of his calloused fingers. 
“Okay…” 
“I was wonderin’...” Joel pauses, his fingers now grazing over the soft skin of your arm. 
You gulp in anticipation. “Yes, Joel?” 
“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to go on a date with me,'' he asks, his eyes dropping to his boots for a second before coming back up to meet yours, “a proper one.” 
You’re so giddy at his proposition you think you might burst.
“Well, you know…I’ve gotta check my calendar,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face. You see his face drop, but before he can sulk too much you wink at him and say, “yeah, I’d love to,” you exhale and try to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away how excited you actually are. A date. With Joel Miller. 
“You free tomorrow?” he asks, beaming, revealing the dimpled smile you’re so fond of. 
“Lucky for you, I am,” you say, feeling your skin warm. 
“Pick you up at 7?” he asks, dipping his face closer to yours, his hand now on your waist pulling you into him. 
“Works for me,” you confirm while planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, “see you then, neighbor!” you conclude, being sure to emphasize the neighbor in your words, and before he can convince you to stay, you’re sauntering across the street back to your house.
+++
It’s finally here. Your big date with Joel.
The day went by torturously slow, anticipation pulsing through your entire body.
You spent almost two hours getting ready, the majority of the time trying to pick an outfit. You probably changed 30 times, trying to find the outfit that conveyed the perfect balance of sexy, yet subdued. 
You decide on a pair of dark wash flares and a lacy top, both accentuating your figure heavenly. You spritz on a little perfume you save for special occasions. If this ain’t a hell of an occasion. 
Joel, with impeccable timing, rings the doorbell right as you tug your black cowboy boots on. It’s sill relatively warm in Austin, so you decide to forgo a jacket. 
Opening the door, you and Joel take a moment to check the other out, neither of you trying to hide it whatsoever. Joel’s wearing his signature jeans and a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his veiny, strong forearms. You’d hump his arms given the opportunity. 
“Absolutely stunnin’, sweetheart,” he licks his bottom lip while his brown irises roam over your entire body, paying special attention to your waist and tits. You’re mentally patting yourself on the back for your outfit choice. 
“One could say the same for you, cowboy,” you quip back, a smug grin plastered across your face. 
Your smile shoots blood straight to Joel’s cock. 
He swallows as he realizes the night is just beginning. 
+++
Joel takes you to a quaint diner for your date. From the outside, it’s unassuming; an older building in urgent need of a pressure wash, adjacent to a virtually empty shopping center. A true hole-in-the-wall in the middle of downtown Austin. 
“It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but I promise ya, they got the best damn burgers in town,” he assures, seeing the questioning look on your face when he pulls into the parking lot. 
You and Joel slide into a booth in the far corner, Joel insisting that booth seating is part of the experience. You both order burgers, per his recommendation and boy, it does not disappoint. 
Between bites of food, you and Joel learn more about each other. The conversation flows easily, both hanging onto each other’s every word; no awkwardness or feigning interest. You both share parts of your childhoods and you share stories from your college days. Joel recounts the mischief he and Tommy got into when they were younger, earning several belly laughs from you. 
Joel loves the way you laugh; candidly, throwing your head back, your shoulders jerking uncontrollably as you try to catch a breath. 
You’re pleased to learn that both you and Joel have a fondness for 80’s action movies, especially the over-the-top-borderline-cheesy ones, and 70’s artists like Fleetwood Mac and Electric Light Orchestra.
Joel asks about your job as an editor. You tell him the different types of manuscripts you have to read; some you drudge through, others you enjoy. “I love seeing how the story progresses from the first rough draft up until the final copy,” you tell him,” a lot of authors are really full of themselves, so you have to boil down a lot of the flowery language and hubris.” 
In return, he tells you about how he got started as a contractor, hard work rewarded him with promotions until he opened up his own contracting business six years ago. “It’s priceless gettin’ to be your own boss,” he says, “not havin’ to answer to anyone, can be more selective in projects you wanna take on,” he continues, and you swear you’re listening but you’re secretly caught up in the sound of his voice and the way his lips move when he’s talking; hypnotizing you with every word.
Joel opens up about when Sarah came into this world; the happiest day of his life while simultaneously being scared shitless — he was wild and ungovernable, definitely not ready for fatherhood.  
Through the years he’s found his rhythm. He doesn’t talk about her mother and you don’t ask; you’re not looking to dig into that lore on the first date. He tells you what Sarah was like as a baby and the subsequent years. Your heart melts at the adoration and pride that glow in his eyes when he talks about his daughter. 
You both sit in the overused booth, totally absentminded to the world around you. You’re both locked into one another, afraid of missing even the faintest shift in facial expressions. You might as well be the only two people here. 
Taking the final bite of your burger, you tell Joel that you’re inclined to agree that these are the best burgers in town. 
He mumbles something to the effect of “told ya,” before finishing his last bite. 
On the ride home from the diner, you spot an illuminated Ferris wheel, glowing in the distance of the Austin night. 
“Oh, I didn’t know the fair was still in town. I haven’t been in years!” exclaiming a little loudly for a woman your age, “can we…..?” 
Joel can’t say no to you, not when you’re giving him a pleading, pouty look. 
+++ 
Once inside the fairgrounds, you both walk through the selection of vendors, and it doesn’t take long for the funnel cake sign to catch your eye; Joel purchases you one and you continue on your adventure together. 
“Here,” he says, offering you a paper napkin. 
You gently shake your head, shoving another bite of funnel cake into your mouth, “don’t need one.”
He laughs. You look like a stubborn child learning what sugar is for the first time, “you’re gonna get all sticky,” he says, a big grin enveloping his face, your eagerness for the sweetness of the battered dough reminds him of Sarah’s sweet tooth. God, you’re cute – it makes him wish she was with you both tonight. 
Well, that is until he notices it. It’s subtle, but it’s there – a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your cheek and exposed chest.
He knows this is a family event, but he wants to do anything but PG-rated things with you right now.  
He stares at the white dust on your skin until your voice catches his attention again. 
“Maybe I want to be sticky,” you reply, “gives you more to lick off of me later.” 
And fuck, if that doesn’t turn him on. 
The thought of his tongue on you sends a flood of impure thoughts to his brain; much like the ones he had when you first showed up at his door, covered in remnants of flour, all sugar and sweetness. 
He knows now.
You may be sugar, but fuck, if you haven’t got some spice in you, too. 
+++ 
As you stroll, your eyes grow wide when you see it; a yellow wooden sign with the words “bobbing for apples” in Comic Sans engraved into it. 
“Ah! Joel! Bobbing for apples! I haven’t done that since I was a kid – we have to do it!” you say, your voice is a little too eager and a little too high-pitched, but the childlike wonder on your face is all the convincing that Joel needs. He might not admit it, but he’d give you anything you want. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, letting you lead the way. 
You and Joel make your way up to the station, and a fair worker in an apron and a straw hat shouts to the crowd, “Come one, come all! Test your skills at an apple grab; the winner gets a prize,” his voice is low in octave but loud enough like he’s speaking through a megaphone. 
A line of fair-goers of all ages quickly forms around the barrels filled with water and apples, and you look at Joel with eager eyes as you step up to yours.
The rules of the game were explained by the worker with a chuckle, “Alright, folks, no hands, just your teeth. Lean in, and bob for an apple, and what you catch is yours to keep plus a prize from the booth to the right.” 
“You sure about this, sweetheart? You’re gonna get all wet,” Joel asks, probably just a smidge too concerned about your well-being considering it’s just bobbing for apples. 
“You gonna act like you don’t know that I’ve been wet this entire night?” you say, not waiting  to hear his response as the worker calls out a loud “GO!” 
Giggles and cheers fill the air as you and your fellow participants lean over the barrel. Your face disappears into the water; your competitiveness in overdrive  – edging yourself deeper and deeper into the water; so far that your shirt gets soaked. You don’t care, though, and you gleam from satisfaction as you resurface with a gleaming red apple held triumphantly between your teeth. 
The crowd erupts in applause at your efforts, and Joel stands watching you with his hands on his hips, a smile plastered on his face. As his gaze drops from the apple in your mouth, he notices the wetness of your shirt and shit, you’re positively drenched. 
It takes Joel all of .0002 seconds to notice the silhouette of your nipples peeking out from your shirt, the goosebumps littering your skin, and the tail ends of your hair wet and starting to curl under the weight of the water. 
You drop the apple from your teeth and catch it in your palm.
“Well, well…looks like you’re on a date with a prize-winnin’ apple picker. Feeling lucky yet?” you tort, attempting to flirt through the uncomfortable press of the damp fabric on your skin. 
“Sweetheart, I’ve seen that mouth in action, I already knew you were going to win,” he says, “but you know I’d never thought I’d see the day…” he trails off. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly confused. 
“Never thought I’d see the day that I was jealous of a fuckin’ Red Delicious apple,” he says, humor behind his voice, “s’ashame I wasn’t the one you were bobbin’ for in that barrel.” 
“Listen, if you want to get wet and let me put you in my mouth, I am more than happy to accommodate,” you reply back, your voice flirty and suggestive. 
Joel doesn’t respond, but you see him palm himself through the denim of his jeans at your suggestion, interjecting his thoughts. 
You can’t hide the shivers that take over your body from the chill of the night air and the wetness of your clothing. 
“C’mere, baby, you’re freezin’,” he says, brow furrowed, and arms wide open stretched out to you, beckoning you into his large arms. You take a step forward and step into his brace, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his arms and the aroma of his natural scent. 
You stand there, wet in more ways than one, and let him hold you. Your arms wrap around his thick middle, and he rubs up and down your back with both palms in an attempt to warm you up. He releases you momentarily before saying, “Here, take this.”
You step away from him for a second, giving him space to slip off the flannel he’s wearing, revealing nothing but a white t-shirt underneath; the little tufts of hair peeking out through the collar of his shirt almost send you into a tailspin. 
He holds the flannel open by the collar to face you, encouraging you to put it on. You turn your back to him, allowing him the privilege of holding  it as you slip your arms into the sleeves. The fabric of the shirt is warm from his skin, and the moment you put it on you’re flooded with the smell embedded deep within the fibers; all musk, whiskey, cinnamon, wood, and Joel. 
“Come on, now, you little bobbin’ minx,  let’s go get you your prize,” he says, tilting his head to the prize booth. You grab his hand and let him lead the way this time. 
You and Joel make your way to the prize booth, the smell of kettle corn invades your senses; sure, you were already stuffed with funnel cake and your dinner, but the sweet aroma makes your mouth water. Or maybe it’s just Joel, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t really care. 
In the small structure of the prize booth, the shelves were adorned with a colorful array of stuffed animals of all sizes, trinkets, and games. You carefully assess your prize options while the attendant tries to convince you that of all of the random assortment of prizes, you absolutely need the goldfish. Right. 
You look over the options in front of you for what feels like a good ten minutes before the attendant not so subtly grows tired of your indecision. You sigh. You decide on a small puppy dog with beady plastic brown eyes, and you nod in thanks as he hands it to you, and you and Joel walk away from the booth. 
“Had a tough time decidin’ there, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” Joel asks, not really questioning. 
“Well, to be honest, none of the prizes were really appealing to me,” you respond, playing with the fluffy ears of the stuffed plush in your hands. “I only picked this one because I thought Sarah might like it,” you say. Your consideration for Sarah, and your accepting demeanor to her, warms Joel’s heart. 
“But I can think of one I’d really like to claim,” you say, catching his gaze. You see his jaw clench at your words. 
“Oh yeah? And that would be..?” 
“You,” the word comes out breathy. 
You both stop walking and the crunch of the dirt under his boots and the distant sounds of the fair in the background all but freeze as you stand there, seemingly paused in your own little private moment. 
“Take me home, Joel,” you say, planting your palm on his broad chest and stepping closer to him, your chest nearly flush against his. His hands skate down to your waist, and he closes the gap between your bodies, holding you close enough that you feel the growing bulge between his thighs. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, leaning down, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 
And it’s sweet. 
Just like the funnel cake. 
And just like he thinks you are. 
But you have other plans for him tonight. 
And he has the same for you. 
+++ 
You and Joel make your way out of the fairgrounds and to the lot where Joel parked his truck. 
Still wearing his flannel, the stuffed puppy dog intertwined between your crossed arms, you wait for him to open the passenger side door. You all but eye fuck him as he reaches into the depth of the  front pocket of his jeans and grabs his keys. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you; offering you a hand to help guide you in. 
“Always such a gentleman,” you say, placing your hand in his, accepting his offer, using the strength of his arm to help lift yourself into the bed of the truck. 
Joel rounds around the front of the vehicle, unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides in. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life and the radio turns on, “Come a Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley plays over the speakers. 
Deciding to take a note from the lyrics, you don’t bother to buckle yourself into the passenger seat, and instead slide over into the middle seat of the truck, positioning yourself tightly against Joel’s side. You lace your arm through the underside of his and interlock them, your hand curls around his firm bicep. You lean your head into his shoulder, and close your eyes, taking a moment to bask in the solitude of the strong man beneath you. 
He looks down at you for a moment – god, he could get used to this. He dwells on the thought for a moment longer and then begins to drive away. 
You’re clinging to him and you both ride like that in an easy silence, apart from the faint music and the hum of his truck. It has been so long since you felt so content, so at peace with the moment and yourself; not worried about work or life, or anything. It was just you and Joel, and you like it that way. 
Nearly back to your house, and your shared neighborhood, you let your left hand wander on the expanse of his thigh. The time for sweetness is over. The events of the night, your combined obvious want, and the flirtatious taunts catch up with you. 
Joel keeps his eyes on the road, but you don’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens as your hand makes its way closer to his belt buckle. You begin to toy with the cool metal there, and his large palm comes down to cup yours. 
“We’re almost home,” he says, holding your hand tight against his stiffening cock, not letting you move. “But I want to feel you now,” you whine. 
“I know, baby, I know you wanna get your hands on this cock, and I would like nothing more,” he says, “but you’re gonna have to be patient, we only have a few more minutes until we’re there.” 
“And why do I have to be patient, neighbor?” you ask, pulling your hand away, slightly keyed up. Greedy. Horny. 
“Because I wanna give that needy little pussy the attention she deserves,” he says, “and because once I get started, I know ‘m not gonna be able to stop.”
“And neighbor ain’t gonna be what you’ll be calling me,” he says roughly, “I’ll fuckin’ make sure of that, sweetheart.”
He takes a turn and pulls into your neighborhood. You catch a glimpse of Mrs. Morrison taking out her trash. She glares at you in disapproval as you drive past in Joel’s truck. 
You sometimes wonder what your neighbors might think; a pretty little young thing like you, the youngest daughter, hanging out with the older, single-father neighbor across the way. 
But truthfully, you don’t really give a fuck. 
+++ 
Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent.  You both pause in silence. 
Joel turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of invite me in behind his voice. 
You glance out the window, your house bathed in the soft glow of your porch light. You turn back to Joel and say “Thank you for tonight, I really had a fun time. But to be honest, I just realized I never got to thank you properly…” 
Joel looks at you and something dark flickers in his gaze. “And what would you need to be thankin’ me for, sweetheart?”  As if he didn’t know. 
“For the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Come in and I’ll return the favor” conjuring your sultriest voice, knowing he doesn’t need an invitation.  
You step out of the truck, and the night air is cool, a  gentle breeze whispers through your hair;  your features are illuminated by the street lights in your neighborhood, and the warm glow casts an inviting aura around you. Joel appears at your side of the truck and helps you exit. 
The gravel under your feet crunches as you walk toward the front porch; the air is charged with electricity, a livewire, a magnetic pull drawing your bodies together. 
The porch light by your door casts a warm yellow glow on your faces. You pause at the front of the step and reach for your house keys in your purse. Your porch swing sways gently in the breeze, its rhythmic creaking adding to the undertone of the moment. 
You insert the key into the lock, but before you can fully turn the doorknob to open the door, Joel already has his large palm on yours, opening the door,  pushing you through the door frame and into your house, his hands cradling your face before he crashes his plush lips into yours. 
The second you’re both fully in your house, Joel's hands are on the hem of your shirt,  silently begging for you to take it off. You let him work on getting you topless, meanwhile, your hands are hastily working to undo his belt buckle, the excitement of finally being able to touch him and him not being able to stop touching you has you worked up.  Joel presses his thighs together against yours, drawing little moans from you while he nips at your neck. 
As much as he is trying to distract you, he’s no match for your determination. In record-breaking time you have his buckle undone and the zipper of his jeans is down; you gracefully fall to your knees before him, tugging his pants and his boxers down with you to the floor. Joel’s cock releases from the confines of his clothing and slaps against his tummy, leaving a little trail of pre-cum in its wake. You already knew he was big, but having him in full view makes you realize just how big he really is. 
You lick your lips and reach out to grab his thick cock, affectionately kissing the tip of his cock; you run your tongue through the slit, lapping up the salty pre-cum that drops out before you circle your tongue along the underside of his head. You let your jaw go slack, and you begin to dip down on his length; a gurgling sound escapes your lips as you pull back up again. You do this a few times before letting his hard cock fall from your lips, your lips puffy and coated in saliva, some of it dribbling past your chin. 
You pull off momentarily and smile up at Joel. He thinks you look far too sweet and innocent for someone who is absolutely taking his cock deep in your throat like a champ. He intertwines his fingers through your hair and groans, before gently urging you back down onto his cock. 
“Fuck, sweetheart – can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about having that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he says slightly breathless. 
The thought of him thinking about you goes straight to your core and makes you want to mouth fuck him harder. 
You wrap your lips around him again, and he thrusts his hips to glide his cock inside of your mouth to the back of your throat. 
He begins to pick up his pace, holding your head steady by your hair as he fucks into your throat, pressing deeper and deeper until spit pools at the corners of your mouth and slight tears form in the corners of your eyes. He presses you down onto him until your lips are wrapped around the base of him and the coarse hairs that reside there. You’re drowning in the taste of him, hardly able to breathe, but you don’t care; you want him to chase his high, to use your mouth for his own pleasure. He made you come harder than anyone ever has before; this was the least you could do for him. 
“Jesus – look at you, pretty girl, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grits out, “takin’ it so well, baby.”
His words go straight to your cunt, the ache now insufferable. 
You begin to work him harder with your tongue, struggling for air, and he inches closer to the back of your throat and you begin to gag. Joel pulls out, not wanting to hurt you, and a strand of saliva trails between your lips and his cock. You blink back tears and look up at him, your mascara now a mess on your face, and your eyes glossy. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern. 
You swallow, and reach up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You are okay. More than okay. 
“Peachy. I'm relieved I finally got to return the favor,” you hum, standing to rise to meet his face. 
He wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you tight against the front of his body; you feel the warmth of his tummy, the hardness of his cock, and the strength of his back behind your grip and it makes your legs turn to Jell-O. Fuck, you need him. 
Joel kisses you for a moment, before pulling away and bringing his lips to your ear “Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl.” 
You feel your stomach swoop and your folds tingle; you have thought about this moment for so long and you yearn for the stretch of him; to know what it’s like to be filled to the brim with Joel fucking Miller. 
He kicks off his boots, steps out of the clothing bunched around his ankles, and takes your hand to follow you down the hallway into your bedroom. 
Part of him wants to take his time; to make you feel good, to taste you again, and feel you come and come on his fingers. Part of him wants to shuck down your jeans and put your pretty pussy in his face. 
Joel doesn’t particularly think of himself as a selfish man, but he has waited patiently, and he needs you. Now. 
As much as he wants the taste of you on his lips, the part of him that wants to shove himself into your addictive cunt until you forget your name until you forget every other name except for his, is the dominant one right now. 
Once in the bedroom, he crowds you back until the back of your calves meet the edge of your mattress. He grabs both of your hips in a bruising grip and pulls you tight against his chest, his hips grinding into yours, and you lean your face up to kiss him. You think he might kiss you, but instead, he ghosts your lips and leans forward until your back meets the soft fabric of the mattress with an oof, and he’s on top of you. 
He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. His grip on you is firm, yet gentle. You’ve seen his brute strength in action and the fact that he could overpower you sends a shiver to your clit. 
“So beautiful, darlin’ – you know that?” he kisses your nose and trails a slew of them down your cheek, your jaw, your chin, and neck. Once at the nape of your neck, he nibbles on your earlobe and whispers “You ready for me, sweetheart?” his breath is heavy in your ear. 
You can’t nod fast enough in agreement. 
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he practically purrs the question. 
You want nothing more than to be a good girl for Joel. You nod almost aggressively to make up for the fact that you’re unable to construct a single sentence right now. 
He lets out a satisfied moan and drops his grip on your wrists, and drags his heavy hands down your body to the center of your jeans and undoes the button of your pants, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of both your jeans and your panties and pulls them down in one fell swoop. 
He dips down to place a delicate kiss to your tummy and lets the weight of his head rest on the softness of you. He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume comforts him, and he fights the urge to dip his face lower and bury himself in your pussy. 
You drop both of your hands and grab his head, your fingers carding through his hair, and he groans. 
“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” he says, not really questioning. 
“I am being a good girl,” you respond back, not really sure what prompted his statement. 
“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. When I put you in a position, I want you to stay there, until I say you can move. Got it?” 
And holy fuck, bossy Joel turns you on. 
You only hum in response. 
“Need you to use your words, sweet girl. Answer me, or I’ll make you,” he says, voice low, his head closer to your center now, almost to exactly where you need him but not quite. 
“Ye - ah, yes, fuck I understand,” sending all of your energy to string the words together. 
He hums in acknowledgment and pushes your hands back up overhead, telling you to keep them there, and only to touch him when he says you can. When he releases your hands and sees that your arms stay put, he rasps out a “good girl”. 
He then reaches down and notches his tip at your entrance, and drags the weight of his thick cock through your glistening folds.
“Mmmm so fuckin’ wet, this all for me?” 
“All for you, J-oel,” you’re trembling, desperate to feel him deep inside you. 
He pauses momentarily, only the tip of him inside you, and god, it’s such a tease. 
You know it’ll sting, but you want him to just fucking bury every inch of himself inside of you. You don’t care about the pain; you crave the stretch of him. 
“Joel – ah, need more,” you moan, “need all of you.” 
“You sure, sweetheart? I ‘don wanna hurt you,” he says, once again concerned about you. 
“Joel, I want you to fucking wreck me. Need you to move, please.” 
After your plea, he obliges. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you, and the tip of his head drags against the spongey spot inside of you. 
Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to move in and out of you, he feels so fucking good, and you’re so perfectly full. 
“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and gruff, still continuing to saw in and out of you. ‘’Want you to look at me while I fuck you.” 
And his words are like music to your fucking ears. He’s the perfect balance of gentleman and fucking filth. 
He brings a hand down to circle your clit, and with the added sensation you’re not far off from your orgasm. You can feel it growing in your stomach with every circle of his thumb and every thrust of his cock. You open your mouth, your jaw slack, and you begin to moan. 
“Fuck, baby – you shouldn’t open your mouth like that,” he moans. 
“And – fuckkkk, why not?” You respond back, breathless from each of his thrusts. 
“Just a reminder of another hole I need to use,” he responds, and then gruffly says “Open,” while pressing his thumb and index finger into your jaw, holding you in place. 
You do as he says, and he spits into your mouth. Your eyes wide as saucers. It was hot, dirty, filthy. 
“Taste how perfect we are together, baby” he says, still pounding into you and circling your clit. 
His words send you into fucking oblivion, and you’re gone. Your vision goes white, and despite his order to keep your eyes open, your eyes fall closed and he fucks you through your orgasm. 
Your tight, slick walls pulse and squeeze around him. His hands squeeze your hips, his fingertips bruising your skin as he rocks your limp and shaky body against his cock, chasing his own orgasm. 
Not long after you’ve come, he’s finishing too. He fucks into you at an erratic pace and then shoots his seed deep into your cunt. 
“Fuckkk, baby” – he trails off, letting the final spurts of his cum paint your walls. 
You let out a sigh, and once again drop your hands to his head, intertwining your hands with the hair behind his head. 
You both lay there in your fucked out bliss and then he pulls out of you, taking a dribble of his cum with him, a glob of it landing on your thigh. 
You’ve never felt so satisfied, to be laying there, content and full of Joel Miller. 
He rolls over onto his side and puts his hand on his chest. 
“Fuck, baby. You’re perfect,” he says. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.” 
You hum in delight and roll over onto his chest, melting into him. 
“You in the mood for some cookies?” you ask, and he beams in delight. 
He hit the fucking lottery with you. 
THE END
114 notes · View notes
piratesfromspace · 1 year
Text
Brandy & Gingerbread (Nick 'Santa'/Reader)
Nick 'Santa Claus' (Violent Night) x fem!Reader Rated: Explicit 1.2k words
Nicomund the Red and the Tooth Fairy meet again on Christmas day. Fluff and smut ensue.
This is my Christmas gift for @gipsydangerzone 💖
Content: mention of food and alcohol, implied violence, magic healing, Santa Claus kink (is that a thing?), smut, thigh riding, Christmas fluff, fem!reader, established relationship. This happens just after the end of the movie. Look at me expanding on the lore of this Christmas masterpiece that is Violent Night.
MASTERLIST
gif by nick-offerman
Tumblr media
“Well, well, what do we have here? Isn’t that the Tooth Fairy herself?” The familiar gravelly voice has you shiver before you even see him.
“What are you doing here?” he continues as you swirl back to face him. Here he is. In all his glory, red velvet and white fur and the gray of his fluffy beard. Gold sparks of magic still floating around him.
“Nick! Nice to see you again! How am I doing? Fine, thanks for asking!” you answer sharply.
He seems unbothered by your sarcastic greetings.  “You know it’s actually my night, right, sweetheart?” he croons, taking a step toward you.
“Well, it happens that the kid in this house lost a tooth today, so it’s also my night. I work all year round, Nicomund, I’m not some lazy old man who manages to complain while doing shit for most of the year.” you snap back. 
“Oof, darling, no need to be so mean. You don’t want to end on my naughty list, don’t you?” He takes one step further, crossing slowly but surely the length of the living room. The place is cozy, old fireplace but modern floor, new sofa but vintage quilts. The tall christmas tree is a real one and it smells like pine and spice and sugar. Like Christmas. Fairy lights spread across the place bathe the room in a soft warm glow. Seeing him in such a decor, it feels like a freaking cheesy Holiday movie. Except you know him, know what he’s capable of, and he’s far from the lazy old man you accuse him to be. 
“Well, I don’t have time to play games Nick, so unless you’ve lost a tooth yourself, I have to go.” you don’t sound as sure of yourself as you’d like. That’s his fault, he unsettles you, makes you dream of domesticity, of chocolate and marshmallows, of cuddles in front of the fire, of all those soft other things you don’t have time to indulge in. 
“Oh sweetie, you won’t believe me, because actually I’m afraid I’ve lost a couple teeth earlier tonight.” He rasps, and behind the sirupy lull of his low voice, you notice for the first time the thin hint of pain. Now that he’s closer, you actually take the time to really look at him. There is a split on his right cheekbone, specks of dried blood on his jaw, spots of red on the white fur of his collar. His usual stupid hat is absent, and his hair hastily tied up in a bun. The tiny round glasses are nowhere to be seen. His sleeves are bunched up, showing off the dark swirls of ink under his skin, meeting the blue-black of fresh bruises. 
“Nick, what happened…?”
Flashbacks of wars long lost invade your mind. Nicomund the Red and his hammer. Bathed in blood and mud and death. The stench of it clinging to the inside of your nose for days after the battles. Ears ringing with the screams of your dying enemies for countless nights. Your own sword covered in gore. 
“Hey, you with me, sweetheart?” Nick’s hand lands on your shoulder and you’re suddenly brought back to your senses. To now, to the cozy living room and the smell of Christmas candles. He’s the one injured, yet he focuses on you. It’s not the first time. It’s been going on for millenia now.
“It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” he adds now that he has your attention. 
“What about you?” he asks, and he cups your cheek, eyes the color of iron - moody skies - scanning your face. His palm is hot, rough pads against your delicate skin. You circle his wrist and nod in reassurance. He said he was fine but you can’t miss how he flinches under your touch, a muffled groan of discomfort escaping him. 
“You’re still a bad liar, you know that, Nick? Let me see. My magic may help.”
Tumblr media
He sits on the sofa, large thighs slightly open and strong feet on the ground, while you’re perched on one of his legs. You had opened his jacket, and traced his naked chest in search of every cut and bruise, blue sparks at the tip of your fingers, healing them on your way. You remember doing the same thing a very long time ago, when you both did not have your magic yet. It’s intimate. Weirdly familiar. His warm body under yours strangely soothing. 
You push the jacket even lower, revealing his broad shoulders, hard muscles under the soft curves of his body. Runes and sacred symbols itched in his skin, reminding you of home. You shift on top of him to reach his back and powerful hands fly up to your waist to help you keep your balance. The heat of him warms up your core, and you find yourself not wanting to leave his embrace. 
Once you’re mainly done, you sit back, and stare at his face. His hands are still on your waist, burning where they meet the sliver of bare flesh between your top and pants. It’s unconscious, your body reacting on its own, but you ground yourself on his leg, your cunt pressing against his thigh in search of something you’ve denied yourself for too long. He notices of course - arched brow and knowing smile - and the iron of his irises melt to a deep night blue. Your fingertips ghost over the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, smooth over the silver strands of his beard, just enough time for you to gather your courage and finally take the bait of his lips. 
You press delicate kisses on his mouth, until he parts his lips. He tastes like gingerbread and brandy and it pairs surprisingly well. Nick keeps kissing you and strengthens his hold on you, brings you down on his thigh and flexes the muscle. He drinks your sudden gasp with a low chuckle. Bastard. 
“You like this, mmh? Come on, take what you need my little fairy.” he whispers in your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle softly. He repeats his move, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. Warmth builds and builds between your legs, you can feel how wet you’re becoming while you seek the delicious friction of his thigh against your swollen flesh. 
Nick is drowning you in filthy praises between two deep kisses, tongue tasting the roof of your mouth like you’re a sugary treat. Your hands are buried in his long hair, yanking him to you when he dares to leave too much space between you two. You’re close but it’s not yet enough, and you wish he would give you more, let you open his pants and really ride him. 
It’s like he can read in your mind - you don’t understand how the whole wish thing works, maybe he is - and he rises from the couch, holding you in his arms in an impressive display of strength, before he spins and lays you back down on the sofa, landing on top of you. 
“I guess you deserve a gift too sweetheart, you work so hard, it’s your turn to be taken care of.” He dips his head, kisses you once again, and there’s a devotion and a passion that wasn’t there a moment earlier. He smiles against your lips and his voice is like molten chocolate, decadent and rich: “Merry Christmas” he rasps, before sliding lower and bringing down your pants with him.
714 notes · View notes
blobbycentral · 4 days
Text
Puppets of the Gods
(Aka that one AU where the Cookies of Darkness get possessed by the beasts)
Tumblr media
Get ready, this’ll be a long one
The AU starts with Dark Enchantress and main group of the Cookies of Darkness (Pomegranate, Poison Mushroom, Licorice, Red Velvet, and Affogato) heading to the great tree for an audience with the beasts. In this audience, the beasts demand cookie bodies like they do in game. Dark Enchantress though, instead of making new cookie bodies from scratch, offers up her subordinates as vessels and the plot begins.
Tumblr media
(Yes that is a paper bag on his head and no I will not answer why the paper bag is grey)
SILENT SALT COOKIE
Silent Salt and Burning Spice fought over who would get the guy with the massive sword and arm. Since Burning Spice was too busy arguing with Silent Salt, they ended up getting Red Velvet instead. He’s not a terrible body to host. Strong. Nice sword. Quiet. Though he could get over the cake monster things. Silent Salt is allowed to take out whatever they want.
RED VELVET COOKIE
As a loyal member of the Cookies of Darkness, he accepted the possession, practically welcomed it. Well… he did. I mean sure Silent Salt isn’t the worse to be possessed by. He’s seen Affogato’s and Licorice’s state. It’s just… so quiet. Too quiet. He’s locked in this mind space watching Silent Salt wreck his life’s work and hurt anything that comes in their way. Maybe if Dark Enchantress knew what was going on she would help… if only he could find a way out.
Tumblr media
BURNING SPICE COOKIE
If Silent Salt wasn’t such a big fat paper bag, Burning Spice would’ve gotten Red Velvet. But noooo he had to get the other brat with a big scythe. Licorice Cookie or whatever his name is, he’s frail, bratty and won’t shut up or stop escaping. It sucksssssssss. At least he hates Mystic Flour’s vessel as much as Burning Spice hates Mystic Flour!
LICORICE COOKIE
Alright, maybe this makes Licorice Cookie not the most loyal Cookie of Darkness but he HATES BURNING SPICE! If he had his diary (which Burning Spice looked through btw) he would be scribbling so much the paper would be soaked in pen. Everyday he and him argue and argue about what to do. It’s not Licorice’s fault that this man doesn’t know a spell book from a piece of toilet paper! Ugh… he just needs to find a way out.
Tumblr media
MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE
Pomegranate Cookie is loyal and quiet like a good pet. Her hair is annoying to deal with. They spent hours just trying to figure out how to take it out of those buns. Then there's her whole obsession on Dark Enchantress Cookie. Sinful and annoying. Does she not understand caring is a waste of energy? Alas
POMEGRANATE COOKIE
She knew of her master's grand plan since Dark Enchantress thought of it. She gave up herself as soon as Dark Enchantress gave out the order. She did everything Mystic Flour said just as Dark Enchantress had ordered her to do. She sat by and let Mystic Flour destroy her room, clothes, mirror— she’ll sit silently and let all happen. She can’t let her master down even if it destroys everything.
Tumblr media
SHADOW MILK COOKIE
You know, he’d prefer Pure Vanilla. He’s more fun to toy around with! This dumb one is such a boreeee. Traumatize him once and he’s all like “I’m emo and sad and stay quiet in the mind space” it ain’t t all bad. Having a body is just soooooo much fun! He gets to play with cookies for real now! The world will remember how fun he was ;D
AFFOGATO COOKIE
When Dark Enchantress Cookie offered up the Cookies of Darkness, Affogato Cookie ran. He was barely a member anyways! He shouldn’t have to be puppeted like a worthless… well.. puppet. It doesn’t matter anymore. Shadow Milk knows everything and just how to screw with his head. He hates it. Makes him want to go back to the hell of the Dark Cacao kingdom.
Tumblr media
ETERNAL SUGAR COOKIE
She wanted the pretty girl to be her vessel! Not some kid! Sure she was a little slow on pickings but still! They just sleep around and asks for bedtime stories and shroomies. What the actual oven is a shroomie anyways??
POISON MUSHROOM COOKIE
The pink lady is pretty. She reads them stories and snuggles them in her wings. It’d only be better if she had shroomies
And that’s all! If you have any questions feel free to ask! Thanks for reading!
Tumblr media
36 notes · View notes
punk-in-docs · 2 years
Note
Can you give us some quick headcanons about Halloween with Eddie?
🍂 Eddie Munson Halloween Headcanons 🍂
“So as it turns out I don’t know what the word ‘quick’ actually means. I’m sorry. No further questions your honour.” punk-in-docs, 2022 @asnackdriver
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Halloween with Eddie Munson; dear god you’d think it was Christmas and his Birthday all rolled into one. He gets so whirly and excited about it.
Scary movies. Crunchy brown leaves underfoot. Rubber masks. Candy corn. Halloween costumes. Pumpkins. Cocoa with some whiskey sneaked in it.
Explains in lengthy detail just why it’s his favourite time of year: summer in Hawkins is too fucking hot. Too sweaty. Everywhere is stifling and busy, it’s just no fun to be stuck in that soupy humidity. Weedy old fan not enough to keep him sweating his balls off in his sauna of a bedroom.
He basically whines and suffers through summer. Autumn is his time;
“Pumpkin spice baby, fuckin’ pumpkin spice!” He yelps, as he jiggled up and down like a puppy.
“You’re insane Munson.”
“I’m not insane. I’ve got the psychiatric reports to prove it. A slender majority of the panel decided in my favour.” Then comes that maniacal grin.
“I just love fall. Kay? Almost as much as I love you.” He explains.
He loves loves loves the cold. Mega love. Likes jumpers and layers, and endless blankets piled on his bed. Like a baby bird wedged safely in a nest. Warm cosy things to wrap himself up in. The cool evenings where he can truly feel the burn of a cigarette sparking warmth, and nicotine swirling through his lungs.
He wears fingerless black wool gloves in the cold (you can’t convince me otherwise on that one, nope, sorry)
Even though he wears gloves, he still comes in from the autumn chill outside, rubbing his palms together, and is immediately shoving chilled fingertips around your neck to make you squawk. Feel them sweetcheeks. Freezin’ my ass off out there-
Then he dives in to rub his cold red nose all over your neck. Boys a fuckin’ menace.
There’s something cozy about the trailer when it’s all wrapped up warm and bitter cold is pressing in from outside. Sure it’s not fancy but it’s a home. With a capital H.
It’s not stuffy or elegant. It’s welcoming. Even with its squashy matted carpets pocked with coffee stains, it’s scratchy curtains and it’s lumpy unappealing couch. It smells like detergent and cigarettes.
It’s the best place on earth to be when you’ve got your favourite crazy metalhead wrapped around you. Arms around you. Lips in your neck. He’s like a sunshiney heat lamp that never shuts up. You love it.
You bake cookies, Eddie is a terrible kitchen assistant. He gabbles too much. Can’t keep still. He gets in the way - nicely - he faffs with the radio and turns the oven up way too hot. Thankfully you’re there to salvage it.
Icing cookies. Shaking orange and black sprinkles into the dough. Stamping them into the shape of pumpkins and ghosts. Vanilla and sugar studded kisses whilst you wait for them to rise in the tiny oven. Drizzling icing on when they’re cool. Eddie smothers your cheek in sticky sugar kisses.
Going to the movies near Halloween is almost a pilgrimage for Eddie. He sneaks a glance at Wayne’s paper to see what’s playing, and scoops you up every Friday night to take you along. No arguments.
He buys you butter popcorn and a humongous cherry coke. You buy him gummy bears, red vines, and milk duds. His sweet tooth is insane. He stuffs ten cookies in his face and still says he needs something more after-
You watch whatever they show that’s spooky. Happily. Little Shop of Horrors, Young Frankenstein, Rocky Horror Picture Show, House of Wax and Aliens have been your collective favourites so far.
You’re both down for anything. Hammer horror scare jumps. The old black and whites and their swelling suspense. Slashers with ear shredding screams, overdone gore and long gleaming knives.
He tucks an arm around your shoulders and nuzzles his smug lips over the shell of your ear. You can hold my hand if you’re scared, Princess.
You chuck popcorn at him. Shove it in his mouth with three fingers till he smiles. Cackling in the dark.
Then he’s the one screeching like a banshee, and leaping out his seat on the hair splitting jump scene. You choke on your sip of coke.
“Awh honey. Did you want to hide in my chest if you’re scared?”
He grins and makes grabby hands for your boobs.
You drag his ass out of bed early one weekend to go to the pumpkin patch. It’s worth it though.
You romp around with him there, following along in his chunky boots and his leathers and you’re picking up big fat gourds like happy little kids. Taking them home to carve and set outside the trailer steps.
Jagged scary mouths and and sharp frowning eyes, and a candle flickering fiery inside. Your hands are stained turmeric yellow. The smell of carved Jack O Lanterns is almost suffocating. Pressed from thin wall to wall in the Munson trailer. Gooey gourd and the pipped squelching orange insides.
You warm the cider bought from the farm shop on the stove, to share with Wayne.
Bubble it with a cinnamon stick, orange peel and grated nutmeg. Maybe that would shift the scent of pumpkin innards. Apples and cinnamon stroked on the air. It’s delicious.
You weren’t planning on going trick or treating. But as it turns out, some of the kids - Hellfire Club included - want help with their costumes.
You were the responsible babysitter whose been looking after these kids on and off since middle school; of course you’d take them. And yes, you would also stop by the Diner after and get a mega ice cream shake. Maybe you’re a soft touch.
Eddie sidles up to you and rests his chin on your shoulder. Chocolate drop eyes all melty. “I want a mega shake too.”
“For gods sake. Alright. Get in the car.”
So it’s a visit to the craft store and then the dollar store to get body paint and fake cherry red blood, and scary rubber masks with fake tufts of tacky hair. Prop foam knives and plastic Jack O lantern buckets to store the hauled goodies in.
Eddie wrestles on a white Michael Myers mask and grabs you from behind in the costume aisle.
Pretends to put the edge of the foam knife over your throat. Those scrawny hips swaying into your ass. Ringed fingers spread over your stomach. Holding the knife to you menacingly.
“I’m in character sweetie. Got a thing for hella cute babysitters.” He cackles. His fingers walk playfully up your stomach. He saws the knife across your neck. Soft squishy edge of foam pressing into your collarbones.
You laugh in amusement. Clutching your hand over those chunky silver rings. “Does this make me a scream queen, Munson?”
He cackles. It’s lewd.
“Definitely my scream queen, baby.”
You tip your head back and away into him. Head on his shoulder. Hip to hip. His chest pasted to your back.
“In that case, you’re the scary monster of my heart. Honey.”
“You guys are seriously distressing. Can we go get shakes now?” Henderson asks.
“Eddie you’re gonna have to get off me. Let’s go kiddos.” You round up your wandering band of troops.
“I have attachment issues. Trouble around letting my prey go.” Eddie saws the knife side to side around your throat again. Up under your jaw. Like Norman Bates in Psycho. Playing with knives and pretty girls.
“I prefer what’s under the mask, handsome.” You beam.
“Now come on. If you want your mega chocolate shake you gotta unhand me if we have to get a move on.”
“A good killer never let’s go of his final girl. Don’t you watch the films?.” Eddie grins as he slips off the mask. Chucks the knife into your very loaded cart. His hair is all mushed around and you try and pat it back into semi-respectability.
“Not that you’re interested but I wanna puke.” Erica grimaces. Didn’t stop her reaching for more apple cider oreos though. Layering more goodies in your cart when she thought you weren’t looking.
“Lady Applejack- if I may-“ He holds his hand out. Other one clutched over his heart. Sweet sugar smile.
Five seconds later and Eddie had her hop up in the cart, cushioned by the sheer amount of costumes stuffed in there. And he’s running full pelt down the aisles and leaping on the back as they rocket along. Her laughs and Eddie’s rolling through the store back to you. He’s just a big kid too.
A couple nights later and Halloween finally strikes.
You expected to spend it cosied up at the trailer with Eddie, snacks, and a seriously good joint. You actually spend it taking the rag tag pack of kids, trick or treating.
You don’t mind it. Not really. They’re a pain in the ass. But they’re your pain-
You wore a chunky rust coloured sweater and jeans with your suede jacket. You were too old for costumes. Eddie agrees. Way too old for that shit. Like he’s all jaded. A grizzled veteran. His years of ghost costumes consisting of bed sheets with wonky cut out eyeholes, has passed.
But you’ve glimpsed the tattered polaroid Wayne had in his wallet. Sun bleached from the years and the thumbs over it, to know that little middle school Eddie wore a costume and got his plastic pumpkin bucket just like the rest of them.
He spends the whole time your shadowing the kids, with his arm slung over the back of your waist, slipping his hand up your warm spine and grumbling how hot you are. Your heat burning through to his rings.
You wander along. You listen to kids laughing and shuffling down the safe dark sidewalks of Hawkins. With its kitschy square box houses, painted picket fences and straight trimmed hedges. The golden porch lights that glimmer off the gold house numbers, and the carved pumpkins glowing orange off each doorstep.
He raids Dustin and Lucas’ buckets when they come back. He demands a Reece’s cup, a charleston chew and some Hersheys kisses. Escort fee you little pipsqueaks.
He also finds something else in one of those buckets. Rifling his big hand through the little bowl of plastic as Lucas tries to shuffle away. You’re just fixing the loose something or other on Dustin’s ghostbuster costume, so you’re distracted momentarily.
You pat Dustin on the back and send him off on his merry way. He gives you a fun size snickers as a thank you. Bobbing off to join the gang. You tell them to stay close by.
“Don’t go running off on us, kiddos. Or there’ll be a candy penalty by way of recompense.” You warn.
When you turn around Eddie’s grinning with something behind his back. He swoops suddenly to grab your waist and nibble on your neck.
You yowl laughter cause he’s got a set of those fake bleach white vampire fangs sinking into the soft of your neck. The goof.
“I vant to suck your bloooood.” He croons in a fake Transylvanian accent. Hissing and stabbing the teeth along your jugular. Gumming them into you. Stumbling you along joined along the sidewalk. Feet tangling and clashing together.
“Very convincing, Drac.” You laugh.
Then he’s on his ripped knees on the dirty leaf strewn tarmac. Probably getting his jeans all kind of dirty and wet.
Hands planted on your hips to keep you steady. He’s rifling through his leather jacket pocket and ripping a packet open. It’s too dark to see what it is.
Then he’s holding out an electric blue ringpop to you. He slips it up your ring finger on your left hand. Goofy grin - with big plastic fangs - shining up at you. His muddy puddle eyes shining all sincere. Bursting with little shooting gold stars in the street lights.
“Be my bride for eternity?” He asks. Speaking awkwardly around the fangs.
You hold your hand out and inspect the big gem of candy. The plastic was loose on your finger. But it made you smile. He always finds a way to make you smile. That’s who he is.
You reach across and wriggle those fangs out his mouth. They’re all spitty and gross. But it doesn’t stop you kissing him sweetly. Cupping his face and getting a good press of those adorable lips.
“Sure. But dealbreaker. I’m not sleeping in a coffin. Would be murder on my back.”
He grins. Back to being looped around you. Loping his steps along with yours. Leather hooked around your shoulder.
He’s kissing your cheek. Kiss after kiss after kiss. You twist to the side and meet his lips. Hand digging into the back of his messy hair. You smile cause he’s damn irresistible.
“Let’s make cocoa after this. Warm up. I got some marshmallows and some rum to put in it. Spice it up a bit.” He winks at you. You can’t resist that smile - fangs or no.
You raise an eyebrow. “You’ve got rum?”
And there’s that cheeky Munson grinTM surfacing. Stretching cheeks and bringing up dimples.
“It wasn’t always mine.”
Sounds about right.
Tagging some beloved Munsonites @indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns
377 notes · View notes
Text
Sugar, Spice and Nothing Nice
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 5: Bean & Sugar
🚨TRIGGER WARNING: SA 🚨
Bean and Sugar are two different people, however they are stuck in the same body. For example, Sugar has been in control for the past few months; this is because Bean can’t control herself in certain situations. She can’t be trusted, she’s too afraid, too clumsy and ever since Bean freaked out in the bathroom Sugar had to take control. Unlike Bean, Sugar was outgoing, knew what to say and knew how to get the things she wanted. She took the interviews, did the films, posted online and was there to pleasure Valentino; while Bean went off with Angel Dust to play in a dusty hotel. Before dying Sugar didn’t even have a name, she was just Bean’s shadow. They could’ve had it all; but Bean got scared and ruined everything for them. Sugar will not let that happen again.
She refused to let that happen again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I can’t believe you were able to get away from the studio,” Angel said to Sugar. “How’d you do it?”
“I have my ways,” Sugar shrugged.
“You’ve been here three times just this week, is there something you want us to know?” Husk smirked, handing her a beer.
“Somewhere you might wanna oh I don’t know, check in?” Angel leaned into her, also smirking.
“You guys are so weird, leave me alone,” she got up from the bar stool. “Nobody wants me here, I’m a lost cause.”
“What?! You’re like a celebrity here, Eric can’t stop talking about you,” Angel said.
“Who?” Sugar was confused.
Husk and Angel point to the red demon across the room, “He watches your porns every night,” Angel laughed.
“Seriously, the guy watches without headphones,” Husk looks disgusted.
“At least with you here he’d be getting the real thing,” Angel smiles.
“No, I think that would be worse,” Husk replies.
Sugar scrunched up her face, he was cute but he tried too hard which resulted in him becoming a nuisance. “I don’t think so,” she laughed. Her phone buzzed, it was Valentino.
Val - Hey where r u??
Val - I need you here baby.
Val - okay what the fuck! Why are you not answering???
Val - You and Angel are pissing me off!
She put her phone away.
“You know, you don’t have to be at his beck and call,” Angel walked up to her.
“Right..because you’re the only one allowed to make money right?” Sugar put her hands on her hips.
“That’s not-”
“Sugar!” Charlie walked up to them with someone following behind, “I know you’re technically not a guest yet but I’d love to introduce you to our new guest; her name is Voe and she just got here, well not the hotel here but here in hell for the last two months,” Voe had red curly hair, and kind of had the appearance of a deer.
“Um hi,” Sugar said with a half smile.
“Your skin is blue!” Voe looked her up and down.
“Yes..?” Sugar responded.
Voe looks at her.
“Okay, I’m gonna go,” Sugar begins to leave.
“Wait, Sugar!” Angel followed her outside. “You said you liked it here, why not stay?”
Sugar faced him, “Because, I just don’t belong here okay.”
“Is it Val?” Angel said in a stern voice, “Did he do something to you?”
“For fucks sake Angel-”
“Are you afraid of him?” He cuts her off.
“Angel! Stop!” She snapped, “Please just leave me alone!” Sugar took off away from the hotel.
Angel sighed frustrated, “Shit!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Fuck yeah!” Cherri bomb screams, “Five more rounds!” The bartender brought her and Angel five shots each.
“Let’s fuck shit up!” Angel pulled Cherri bomb onto the crowded dance floor. He was finally able to hang out with his bitchin’ bestie and he wasn’t gonna miss a chance to get wasted.
“I can’t believe you got away from that dickwad you call a boss!” She danced around him.
“Believe it baby! This might be my only time I can even catch a break!” Angel yelled over the blaring music.
“Then let’s make this a night to remember!” Cherri cheered.
Angel and Cherri stumbled out of the club laughing and singing off key, they sat on the curb together leaning on each other, “Where do you think he is right now?” Cherri broke the silence.
“Who?” Angel looked down at her.
“Sir Pentious,” she answered.
He thought about it, and thought but had nothing to say, “I don’t know, maybe another hell; or maybe, I don’t know, maybe he went to heaven.” Angel shrugged looking at the deep red sky.
“You’re a great person Angel, I know you’ll be redeemed one day, When you do and you see my dad; punch him in the throat for me,” Cherri smiled.
Angel laughed, “You can do that yourself once you’re up there.”
“Oh please I’m gonna be down here awhile, didn’t believe all this junk when I was alive; big man is probably gonna need some convincin’ on whether Cheryl King can her a pair of wings,” she smiled.
“I’m sorry, Cheryl?” Angel burst out laughing.
Cherri sat up punching his arm, “Shut up! See this is why I can’t tell you nothin’!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He wiped a tear from his eye. “But seriously, you’re getting up there, even if I have to talk to the guy himself.”
“Sure, whatever you say mate,” She leaned on him again.
“It’s you and me huh Cher?” Angel remained looking at the sky. There was no answer, “Cherri?” Angel looked down to see her fast asleep, he smiled putting his head on her head.
Angel stood up putting Cherri on his back. He began walking down the semi empty street, there were some demons walking up and down the sidewalk.
“Do you have the time?” A voice said. Angel turned, seeing Sugar sitting on a bench.
“What are you doing here?” Angel looked her up and down. “And are you drunk?”
“Maybe a teensy bit,” she slurred.
“Crap, are you serious?” He rolled his eyes. He could not carry two broads.
“What’s the time?!” She yelled.
“Shit! It’s a little past midnight,” Angel replied. He was tired and just wanted to go to sleep. “Come, I’ll walk you back to V tower.” Sugar got up holding onto his lower hand.
They walked together in silence for a bit, “Today was the day I died,” She broke the silence.
“Wow okay, that was random,” Angel said.
“I fell right..there,” she pointed to a spot on the street.
“What were you doing outside?” He asked.
“I was gonna go to the club, but I didn’t want to go; so I sat out here,” Sugar stumbled a bit while walking. “Val is probably mad at me.”
“Why don’t you stay at the hotel tonight?” He offered.
“I can’t,” she looked down.
“Why? Why can’t you?” Angel stopped walking looking at her.
“Because.. because I feel like you and Charlie would be wasting your time,” her eyes were watering. “I’m not a good person.”
Angel sighed, “I wasn’t the best person either; I did a lot of terrible shit.”
“What’d you do?” She asked.
“What’d you do?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Touché,” She finger gunned at him.
“Maybe let’s start with something a little easier, like our names,” Angel suggested. “I used to go by Anthony.”
“I’m Bean,” Sugar smiled.
“Bean?” He tried not to laugh. “What are these names?”
“My mom was a big coffee fan!” She laughed.
“Why didn’t she name you latte or espresso?” Angel laughed.
The demons continued walking until they got to the Vee’s tower.
“Well I’ll see you tomorrow Latte,” Angel opened the door for her. Sugar flipped him off before going inside.
Angel made his way back to the hotel, it wasn’t a long walk but it was long enough. Once he got to his room he put Cherri on the bed and cracked his back, “Ow, shit.” He laid next to her, Angel grabbed Fat Nuggets from his chair and hugged him, he closed his eyes trying to sleep; but then felt Cherri sit up in the bed. He turned to her, “Hey you doin okay?” He asked. Before he could sit up, she threw up.
Right on his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Sugar came into Valentino’s room. She had a very important question for him, “Can I have a dog?”
“You’re fucking with me right?” Valentino scoffed. “You didn’t do what I said, but you want me to do something for you.”
“Angel gets whatever he wants, he literally has a pig!” She raised her voice. “I just want a dog!-”
“Angel gets what he wants because he listens to me! You are nothing but an ungrateful brat!” Valentino yanks her by her arm.
Sugar looks up at him in fear, “I’m sorry..” She looks at the ground but he lifts face back up.
“Get back to your room and get ready for today’s shoot,” he glared.
She nodded before leaving to her room, slamming the door Sugar looks in the mirror at herself. She glares at her reflection, toxic waste dripping from her mouth. Sugar punches the mirror, glass falling on the floor and getting stuck in her knuckles.
Sugar was losing it.
Sugar walked onto set, Angel was there getting his makeup done. She was confused.
“There she is,” Valentino grinned. “What happened to your hand?” He looked at her bandaged hand.
“Um-” She looked at the hand.
“No matter, Angie baby, are you ready?” He looked over at Angel.
“I’m sorry, what's she doing here?” Angel walked up to them.
“Yeah I’m so confused,” Sugar chimed in.
Valentino put his arms around both of them, “Well I was thinking since you two just LOVE hanging out together, I was thinking why not have some quality time on set?” He was smug.
Angel looked horrified, “But Val..I don’t-”
“You do what I tell you,” he angrily said. “Are we gonna have an issue Angel Dust?”
Angel shook his head, Sugar gulped.
“Good, now..get your asses on my set.” Valentino glared at them before sitting next to the director.
Sugar was shaking, “Angel, I can’t do this.”
“You kind of have to Latte,” he said as they walked onto the bed.
“Do not start calling me that,” she sat on the bed.
“Okay get into position, Angel cakes you’re the top,” Valentino smirked.
Angel got on top of Sugar as she laid down, her lip trembling, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“And..Action.”
Angel sat in his dressing room, he was in shock; he was trying to think of this as just doing his job. Because it was right? Just a job? It was like all the other times, right? The door opened, snapping him out of his thoughts. Valentino came inside walking up behind him.
“Hey amorcito, you did so good,” he put his hands on Angel’s shoulders. Angel stayed silent not looking in the mirror, “Baby are you upset with me? You needed to be taught a lesson, you know I don’t like it when you disobey me,” Valentino gently lifted his face and kissed his forehead.
“But I didn’t even do anything, I was just trying to get to know her-,” Angel was interrupted by Valentino yanking him up by his robe.
“No! What you were trying to do was take MY souls and give them to that little bitch,” he slammed Angel against the wall.
“That’s not-”
“Listen to me Angel Dust! You are not to talk to ANY of the actors! You are not to talk or even look at Sugar! If you do, I’m gonna add one of your little friends to my collection; and trust me there are ways to go around getting their permission,” Valentino grinned. “Are we at an understanding?” Angel nodded. “I SAID are we at an understanding?!”
“Yes Valentino.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel walked into the hotel, trying not to get anyone’s attention.
“You look like shit,” Husk looked at him from the couch. Angel lays on the couch with him, burying his face in Husk’s fur.
“I fucked up,” Angel groaned.
Husk put his hand on Angel’s head, “It’ll work out; I promise.”
Angel looks up at him, “Oh yeah, and how is me not able to go to her gonna work out?” Husk just shrugged. “Yeah I didn’t think so.”
An hour or so later there was a knock at the door, well a few knocks, Angel was too comfortable and Husk didn’t want to.
“Don’t worry we’ll get it,” Vaggie said sarcastically.
“Great idea,” Angel gave her a thumbs up.
Charlie went to open the door with Vaggie being her, she opened it with a large smile growing across her face. Angel and Husk sat up, looking shocked. In the doorway stood Sugar with two suitcases and a bookbag.
“Room for one please.”
(PS: Voe is not my OC, she is @nkirukaj she’s from the story “The Radio Demon and The Billboard Doe” check it out when you get the chance)
7 notes · View notes
yakumtsaki · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Well things were nice and calm for one entire update, but don’t worry, we’re back to normal AS AIDEN CHEATS ON SANDY WITH JENNICOR TRICOU. AIDEN WHY. YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH 3 BOLTS
-C̴A̵N̵'̸T R̷E̷S̴I̸S̵T T̴H̸E V̵A̶M̶P G̴I̸L̸F🧟
OH MY GOD
Tumblr media
-H̶O̵W C̸O̶U̷L̶D Y̸O̵U̵ ̶A̵I̸D̴E̵N, I̴ G̷AV̴E U̸P M̷Y L̴I̸F̴E A̶S A̷ C̷R̶Y̶P̴T S̸E̷R̵V̶A̴N̵T F̸O̴R̶ T̶H̷I̶S🧟‍♀️
Bro I can’t. I try to unlag our lot by marrying Sugar off, he cheats on his wife. I try to unlag our lot by marrying Sandy off, she gets cheated on. Not to be self-centered but WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME
Tumblr media
-Welcome back Sandy, the bathrooms need cleaning! -G̷O̷O̵D̴ T̵O̴ ̴B̸E̴ B̴A̶C̴K🧟‍♀️
UGH
Tumblr media
-Don’t worry bitch, I’m about to help with the lag once I take this final dump!
Tumblr media
-Nice! About time I fuck outta here, see you stupid assholes never! 
DOBRONEGA NO
Tumblr media
-Tell Cyn that I love her and my children that I hate them! 
Tumblr media
-NOOOOO DOBRIE NOOOO HOW AM I GONNA LIVE WITHOUT YOU💗
Poor Cyn was devastated, she cried for days, her and Dobronega really had a Victoria/Victor pet soulmate thing going💔 RIP Dobronega, I’ll miss you so much💔
Tumblr media
Because I wasn’t upset enough, the goddamn cleanbot had the worst meltdown yet, look at this shit:
Tumblr media
FML. Sophito you have maxed mechanical, feel like taking a crack at fixing this??
Tumblr media
-No thanks, I’d much rather play the piano and risk actual death by flies! 
Tumblr media
Thank God we have iVan around here because you people are USELESS.
Tumblr media
Case in point. The military uniform is killing me.
-𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲. 𝙸𝙵 𝙲𝚈𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙲 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂.
Tumblr media
Bartholomew’s amazing 1 nice point is starting to reveal itself, this kid is a NIGHTMARE.
-Come on, Barth, concentrate! You’re four, you need to learn how to speak! -GOO GOO >:(
Tumblr media
Bartholomew straight up exhausted Sophie so I had to send in reinforcements. 
-Alright, listen here, Bratolomew, I have enough disappointing family members, so learn to talk or Mr. Teddy loses his head.  -FINE, YOU WIN, GEEZER
Tumblr media
Felina returns from her first day of school, runs to hug Sophito (I’ll never get used to what good parents him and Liz are)-
Tumblr media
-and brings with her Spice! Sugar has actually been a really good dad other than you know, destroying his marriage for no reason, while Spice was a toddler I always invited Sug over to hang out with his bebe so they have a good relationship. Now that Spice is a kid we can invite him over to our lot!
Tumblr media
Awwwww❤️ God Sugar I’m still SO PISSED AT YOU FOR THE CLAIRE DIVORCE
Tumblr media
Jojo is on his last legs (screaming crying throwing up) so I fulfil his wish to re-become a werewolf-
Tumblr media
-BUT APPARENTLY HE HAD A SIMULTANEOUS FEAR OF BECOMING ONE TOO. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. WILL YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND
-NO.
Tumblr media
Here we go again, YOU’RE CURED. LAST TIME JOJO, I MEAN IT
-It’s ok, I’ve made up my mind..
Tumblr media
-..a face this stunning should not be covered in fur!
No comment!
Tumblr media
-OH MY GOD MY NEAT POINTS CAN’T TAKE THIS MESS -MINE NEITHER I’M LOSING MY MIND -IF ONLY iVAN OR SANDY WERE HERE TO CLEAN -EXACTLY, WE’RE TOO GOOD FOR IT
Un.real.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
OH HELL YA, GET IT. Once we hit half a mil we’re moving to an even bigger, laggier mansion!
Tumblr media
-Omg you guys, isn’t so funny how all 3 of you have worked most of your lives and I got a job as an elder and make more than you? Huhu!🌸
Tumblr media
-Seriously, it’s totally crazy how my earnings have eclipsed yours! I mean look at Sophie, worked and worked to top the law career and for what?💗 -So I can represent myself in your murder trial. -Huhu looks like you guys are having your toast with a side of envy! Don’t even get me started on Shajar, mayor by 25 because she was running unopposed! Boy my life is FINALLY perfect!🌸
Tumblr media
-HI WHAT THE HECK💗 -That’s right Cyneswith, I’m here to replace Aiden and Jack Do as your obligatory psycho spurned lover! I’m gonna barge in here daily to catch you cheating on me with your husband! 
OH MY GOD GINGER SHEA JOHNSTON GTFO WHEN WILL THIS STOP
Tumblr media
Awww❤️
Tumblr media
Awwwwww❤️
Tumblr media
Aww- SUGAR WHY IS THE GIRL YOU CHEATED ON JESSICA WITH HERE
Tumblr media
-What do you think, Barth, time for ole’ uncle Sugar to get married again?
YA IT ABSOLUTELY IS NOT
Tumblr media
I don’t know if you guys realize how long I’ve been trying to get Sandy on top of the culinary career, it’s RIDIC. This is the hardest time I’ve had with a career since Wyatt, Sandy WTF
-P̸E̸O̵P̸LE D̸I̵S̷C̴R̶IM̵I̶N̷A̵T̴E A̴G̷A̴I̴N̵S̸T Z̸O̷M̷B̷I̸E C̷O̷O̴K̸S̴! S̷O̷M̵E̷O̸N̷E F̵I̵N̷DS Y̵O̷U̸R E̷Y̵E I̴N T̷H̸E̴I̵R S̴O̷U̵P̸ O̵N̷C̷E-🧟‍♀️
OK MOVING ON
Tumblr media
-Alright Felina, seeing as science is your one true hobby, your father is useless, and I have one day left on this wretched planet, it’s time for me to teach you the secrets of repairing iVan! -But I don’t wanna learn to repair that stupid robot, huhu!🌸 -ALRIGHT THE HUHUING STOPS NOW. Write this down: “To repair iVan you turn off his killmode switch-” which of course I’ve always left on.. -Ok.. -“and reassure him you love him and he’s a good boy, but if he doesn’t calm down you’re turning him into car parts”.
Oh wow, super scientific! 
Tumblr media
It’s Bartholomew’s birthday from which I have no pics because iVan almost killed us again..
Tumblr media
-𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝚅𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙻𝙴𝙶 𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝚂𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙾𝙻 𝙱𝚄𝚂. -Believe it, buddy!
Tumblr media
..and here he is with his glorious Ti-Ning nose! Boy did that toddlerhood cuteness of yours disappear. 
-We get the face we deserve!
At least you’re self-aware!
Tumblr media
Felina brought Cyan, June and Lakshmi’s bb with her from school! It’s so nice that all our lil cousins we’ll go to college with are showing up❤️
Tumblr media
-Swan soooooooooong......... So loooooooong, shitty family, so looooooooooong..............🎵
It’s time😭😭😭
Tumblr media
-Hello, old friend. Have you come for me? -I HAVE BEEN WALKING BY YOUR SIDE FOR A LONG TIME💀 -That I know. -ARE YOU PREPARED💀 -You have no idea.
Tumblr media
SHAJAR DO YOU FUCKING MIND
Tumblr media
OH MY GOD SHAJAR SERIOUSLY GET OUT OF THE FRAME
-It’s alright, it’s only appropriate that Shajar disappoint me one last time. So long, family! And truly, it’s been SO LONG. I’m going to find Wyatt now, but don’t worry, my spirit will always be with you, judging, lecturing, and making you soil yourselves.  
Tumblr media
-WAAAAAAAAH -WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH -HEY-YO SHAJ! -HEY-YO! 
OH MY. FRANCES
Tumblr media
-DADDY NO!!!!
OH WOW LOOK WHO WOKE UP. Shajar seriously ffs even for you this was unreal. Jojo left money to absolutely everyone, even Don! Charitable king💔
Tumblr media
Frankly, I don’t even know what to say about Jojo, like I try to keep things lighthearted but I teared up when he died. I loved Jojo since he aged up into the snootiest Mr. Darcy toddler of all time, he was one of my favorite sims ever, he had so much personality, he was so much fun to play, and despite being pure evil he really did love his family and always tried to shame them into not being losers. Most of all, he loved Wyatt, with whom he’s now reunited❤️ RIP Jojo, I’ll miss you terribly-
Tumblr media
-but clearly your spirit will live on. ABSOLUTELY NOT, SOPHITO
95 notes · View notes
lingy910y · 5 months
Text
Weekly Tag Wednesday
thanks @deedala for making the game and tagging me, and @energievie for tagging me!
name: ling
age: seventeen
location: ny
do you own a robe? describe it. yes it’s blue with silly monkeys as a pattern. i rarely wear it tho
do you have a favorite mug? describe it. i don’t like it that much cause it gets dirty easily but it’s a yellow mug with cute bunnies as a pattern. it’s used for drinking. i only have one other mug that’s used for brushing my teeth and i rly want the rooster mug by deanna but i can’t justify buying it when i don’t need it 😔
do you have a favorite blanket? describe it. my lilac purple duvet 🥺🥺 it’s warm, heavy, and smells good. ok this is so sad but i like hugging it cause it feels like a person and i rarely get hugs irl 🙁
coffee or tea? tea
↳hot or cold? hot
fuzzy socks or wool socks? fuzzy, never had wool socks. but i like cotton/polyester more lolol
gloves or mittens? gloves
fireplace or campfire? never had a fireplace but been near a campfire once. so campfire…?
sun or moon? sun
chocolate candy or sugar candy? neither but i can’t stand chocolate so sugar
sweet pastry or savory pastry? savory
peppermint or pumpkin spice? neither but peppermint
go to bed early or wake up early? it’s actually go to bed late and wake up late but going to bed early is nice. i should do that more often bc i get 4 hrs of sleep on average daily 🥶
cold cereal in milk or hot oatmeal? milk
potatoes or bread? BREAD 🥐🥯🍞🥖🥨
and finally…
gallagher or milkovich? i wanna say both and neither at the same time but gallaghers 🙄 ig 🙄
tagging @iansw0rld, @ardent-fox, @juliakayyy, @michellemisfit, @softmick, @krystallouwho, @mmmichyyy, and anyone else who wants to play :D
12 notes · View notes
falsesighted · 5 months
Note
🔥
[[Oh yeah watch out cause these takes are HAWT
1:
Wyll isn’t boring, he’s just black.
But not in the way you’re thinking. I’ve had this opinion for a few years now but each time I say it, it never fully comes out in the way that I mean so just bare with me.
I haven’t played all of Wyll’s storyline, hell, I ain’t even finished the game yet but I think the “Wyll is boring” debate is apart of a larger problem. From the perspective of a black woman…Wyll is a token. Not in the typical way. He has personality, story and whatnot but like…It’s very obvious to me that he is the “single black man that only exists to hit the diversity quota so no one mentions the all white cast” which is what he is to me. It’s obvious in so many other games. Fallout 4’s Preston Garvey, is just off the top of my head. Wyll is the diversity pick but they still need to write him a story and whatnot, so fine, but no no no he can’t be anything bad because it’s a bad look to have the ONLY black companionship be a rogue or urchin AND ESPECIALLY NOT A BARBARIAN. So lets make him a warlock that fights for justice and good, fine! And he’s kind hearted and sweet and sort of cookie cutter so they cover alllll their bases. Which again, is what they did with Preston Garvey. Leader of the Minute Men that fight for good, justice, sugar spice n everything nice.
BECAUSE if they wrote then any other way there would be backlash BECAUSE none of these white writers actually know how to write a black person that is remotely evil or bad or complicated without turning them into a stereotype or being afraid that they’ll do that. BUT THATS JUST HOW I FEEL ABOUT HIS PERSONALITY.
ONTO THE STORY.
He’s the token so they intentionally put less effort into it.
Well, not INTENTIONALLY. I don’t genuinely believe Larian is just a studio full of old timey racists that put micro aggressions in their game to spite us black ppl but like, even if subconsciously, I feel like they definitely did not look at Wyll’s story the same way they looked at Karlach’s or Shadowheart’s AND DEFINITELY NOT ASTARION’S.
BUT AGAIN I DID NOT FINISH IT SO I COULD COMPLETELY BE TALKING OUT OF MY ASS WHICH I WILL ACCEPT but from the perspective of someone who’s watching all the drama of this unfold like…y’know, SOMETHING is wrong if this many people claim he’s “boring”. BUT ALSO, a percentage of those people ARE actually racist and just didn’t play his story at all so🤷🏾‍♀️
2:
Astarion as a whole and his storyline are so beloved because he is a man. I will not elaborate at this time.
3:
The customization in this game is actually atrocious. I mean I know WHY they did it the way that they did but preset faces instead of slider options and it works well! But like…yeah not satisfying at all. It feels more like I have to settle for a character that looks “good enough” rather than a character that actually looks good. God forbid I want them to actually look like me if I’m picking one of the human/elf races. Do not get me started on hair options.
Fun fact, I actually dislike Aljari hairstyle. Those braids are just one of the 5 black hairstyles we’ve been provided and the only hairstyle that was actually a good design and texture for him.
4:
Baldur’s Gate 3 and many games like it have bias toward white people because when people think D&D and fantasy they think white people and we should really and truly undo this thinking. White people are not the “default”. Everyone should play these games without realizing their identity is clearly an afterthought.
7 notes · View notes
alrightbuckaroo · 10 months
Text
Fic Rec Friday Fun
Thanks for the tag @jesuisici33, @strandnreyes, @rmd-writes, @reyesstrand and @catanisspicy!
So wanted to get some hiatus rec lists going and encourage some self promo in my friends so how about sharing your top fics no matter how big or small - give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits/Most kudos/Most comments/Most bookmarks /Most words/Least words
Most Hits: come and take a walk on the wild side
Play the part, live the lie; this is how we survive. --- Carlos Reyes is a college student who's trying to pay his New York rent, get his cybersecurity degree and make his dad understand he doesn't need to worry about his son's future. That said, Carlos isn't too sure he's not worried about his own future. It feels like each day begets a question that can't be answered. After meeting TK Strand during a night out; he thinks he might just be the answer he's been looking for. What they didn't plan for, was Carlos being the answer TK wasn't looking for.
Most Kudos: sugar, spice, and everything nice
“Hm, it’s a little tart.” “That’s because it’s lemon, TK.” Or Carlos and TK go cake tasting.
Most Comments: come and take a walk on the wild side
Most Bookmarks: come and take a walk on the wild side (are you starting to see a pattern 🥴)
Most Words: come and take a walk on the wild side (just crossed 60k!)
Least Words: all my blood for the sweetness of his laugh (under 500 (somehow??) and one of my favorites!)
TK laughs and it sounds genuine and true. Carlos can’t help but smile, he feels like the sun has cracked open inside him. He feels a warmth inside himself that’s hot to the touch.
tagging anyone else who wants to do it!
14 notes · View notes
captainclickycat · 3 months
Text
Nine or maybe five people I’d like to get to know better
Tagged by @dont-offend-the-bees. Thanks! I like these things, haven’t done one in a while.
Last song: Sweet Jane by the Velvet Underground if you want the one I last listened to in full, Just Like Heaven by the Cure for the one I’m listening to right now.
Favourite colour: Don’t want to commit to just one, but the first acrylic paint set I bought had a shade of blue that was so nice I considered buying a whole new set just for that one when it ran out. (They called it ultramarine but it was a lot brighter than most ultramarines.)
Last book: I’m reading Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan Macguire at the moment, but the last one I actually finished was The Cat Who Could Read Backwards by Lilian Jackson Braun. I started reading-reading Un Lun Dun by China Mieville a while ago too but it’s pretty slow-going; I just dip into it from time to time. Quite like the idea of doing some fanart for that one though.
Last movie: Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget. It was on autoplay after I rewatched The Mitchells vs the Machines so thought I might as well give it a go. It was fun. I think the tagline should have been “We’ve still got Jane Horrocks.”
Last tv show: Around the World in Eighty Days (2021). I’m doing a rewatch.
Sweet-spicy/savoury: Savoury with sweet things for dessert. My spice tolerance isn’t that high but I like things to have a bit of a kick, unless I’ve got a cold in which case it goes up to eleven. Sweet/savoury combos are almost universally awful and disgusting to me. I won’t even put a pinch of sugar in sauce.
Relationship status: Single and not particularly interested in not being, unless I meet someone really cool and it pans out that way.
Last thing I googled: “‘We just can’t seem to stop hurting each other’ TV line”. I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it and it was annoying me at work. (My guess, surprisingly enough, was way off. I thought it was going to be Bojack Horseman or something.)
Current obsession: I actually don’t have a very obsessive personality, I’d like to think I enjoy things a balanced amou— lol nope can’t even type that with a straight face. It’s Our Flag Means Death. And Wooden Overcoats, but that’s not quite as tumblr-popular.
Looking forward to: Meeting some friends this weekend to catch up and maybe play games and stuff. Also Bellowhead are touring later this year and I’m hoping to go. And February because I can drink again.
Tagging @lucienne-thee-librarian @adelphicoracle @aerialworms @celluloidbroomcloset @virgo-79 if anyone else wants to do this, pretend I tagged you.
5 notes · View notes
keii · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Went to Philadelphia last weekend (May 26-28) because hun got roped into playing in this YGO tournament with his friends. I tagged along only because I wanted to see the city.
Luckily our hotel was right by Chinatown so lots of places were walking distance from us. I can’t say much of the tournament itself because I was actually reading Hell’s Paradise LOL (which I ended up finishing last Saturday and it was SOOO good, I hope the anime has multiple seasons to cover the full series.)
I wished I took a picture of this chicken sandwich I got at this one restaurant called Moon Flower House in Chinatown??? It had a good spice, but the real treat was the kind of mayo sauce they had! It was so good, I wished I had my own. Like we inhaled that shit while we were walking back to the hotel because we couldn’t wait LOL. The reason hun’s friends liked going to Philly was because of this bbq place and it was good, though tbh I liked the potatoes the most from there. Got dessert from two places, A La Mousse for the cakes and a mango smoothie from Mango Mango. Hm… they were OK too, the flavors were subtle for the cakes and I mean mango smoothie tasted like mango LOOL
The last day we were there, we went to Chinatown for lunch and boba. It was this noodle shop and I shared a bowl of braised beef noodles and wonton, but it was just OK (it doesn’t compare to The Magic Noodle I had in Vegas!!!) They had a Tiger Sugar boba place and I only knew about it because I went there with Sushi when I was in Vegas last time! The one hun got looked super sweet, but surprisingly it was more mild??? Really good.
Right beside Tiger Sugar there was this Sanrio shop so I was curious and it had a lot of cute ass things, but what caught my eye were these Pochacco and Pompompurin acrylic charms/standees! I got the last Pochacco! Which is lucky, that one’s for Sushi~ The cute lashes reminds me of Goro 😭💚 As we were walking back to the parking garage to drive back home, we actually spotted an Ebisu store and it had a large Goku and Ace figure, so we went in. First thing we saw was a wall of gachapon machines… and I love Gacha so I couldn’t resist!!! I ended up getting the ones I’ve wanted so how lucky!!! Tbh I don’t think the luck is from me, but rather Hun… Most times with stuff like these, I have him do it LOL
Anyway it was a nice weekend trip~
12 notes · View notes
reeshyz · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Title: Sugar and spice make Christmas nice Pairing: Paul Landers / Richard Z. Kruspe Presentee:  @cuteoutlaw Prompt: Naughty and Nice Warnings/Tags: Dumb ideas | mutual pinning | misunderstandings | sick fic Word Count: 2.574 Summary: When Till mentions that Paul has a ‘naughty or nice’ list, Richard wants to do anything to be on the good side of that list. Read on Ao3: here
“Can’t we try it again?” Richard asks, stopping his fingers on his guitar. He knows most of them are probably rolling their eyes again, but he doesn’t care about that right now. Instead he focuses on Paul, who’s sitting opposite from him. 
Paul sighs too. 
Shit.
“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Paul says and he sounds a bit annoyed too. Richard knows that they can do it, if Paul would only listen to him. He looks down at his guitar and frowns. He doesn’t want another ‘Mutter’ fiasco but this is his favorite song on the album and he wants it to be perfect.
“Bitte? Für mich?” Richard says and he can hear that Paul takes another deep breath. Richard ignores Flake’s grumbling behind him. He isn’t a guitarist, he wouldn’t understand anyway. 
“I will think about it. But I like the song as it is,” Paul says and Richard nods slowly. He doesn’t want to sound too controlling again, but he loves his solos the most, when he ironically can share them with Paul.
“I just… it would look awesome if we could play it together on stage. We could walk over to each other and…,” Richard starts but then he shrugs and turns away. Maybe the idea had been stupid, but so far he had almost no interaction at all with Paul on stage and he hates that.
Sue him.
“And kiss,” Till says next to him and Richard surely flushes a bright red. He tries to laugh it off, when everyone - even Paul! - starts to laugh as well, but he makes sure to glare at Till as well. He should’ve never told him about his feelings.
“Very funny,” Paul says and he throws a paper ball at Till, who catches it easily enough and promptly throws it right into Ollie’s mug of coffee. Ollie then drinks out of it without caring at all, looking Till right into his eyes while doing it. This band is a bunch of idiots.
“Well I need a break,” Schneider announces, despite him being on the phone constantly for the last hour. Not that Richard would mention that.
“Yeah me too,” Flake agrees and they both slowly get up. Richard almost joins them for a cigarette but he stays anyway. Maybe he could talk to Paul alone for a moment. Ollie is gone before anyone can say something else.
“No I don’t wanna hear another word,” Paul says, before Richard can even open his mouth and that is just rude. Richard pouts and Till snickers next to him.
“But you’re my guitar husband, shouldn’t you understand me?” Richard asks and he knows that it’s kinda mean to use Paul’s words against him but who cares. Paul frowns adorably at him and Richard’s stomach makes a somersault.
Ich liebe dich so sehr, his mind screams at him. His mouth stays closed though. Better like this. He had to learn this the hard way.
“Okay, fine. But I don’t understand. Tell me the real reason you want me to share this part,” Paul says and he crosses his arms. Richard sits back in his seat and tries to come up with an excuse.
“Don’t even think about lying,” Paul says, when Richard opens his mouth.
He closes it again.
“Yeah lying will get you on Paul’s naughty list,” Till says and he’s laughing again. Richard looks at his best friend and frowns. Naughty list could either be something really stupid or something… rather sexy. 
“What does that mean?” Richard asks, his damn curiosity getting the better out of him. He almost bites down on his tongue, when he sees Till’s grin.
“Well Paulchen here had a lovely idea for Christmas this year. We all agreed that this year we wanted to gift each other something, only Paul disagreed,” Till says and Richard nods. He looks back to Paul who grins, but it also looks as if he’s not really sure what Till wants. 
“Yeah?”
“Well Paul will only give people something for Christmas, who are on his ‘Nice List’ this year. If you continue to annoy him you will be on his ‘Naughty List’. Means no present,” Till says and Richard blinks at him.
“Really? But I thought you would make your christmas cookies again?” Richard looks back to Paul, who’s smiling so widely now. Paul always makes (or buys) the best cookies and Richard had looked forward to that. Last year he had even gotten a few that were shaped like hearts.
“I will, not for you though. Sorry you’re on my naughty list now,” Paul says and he gets up. Probably only to go outside as well towards the others, but Richard can’t let him go like this. He hadn’t meant to annoy him that bad. 
He had hoped that Paul would come over for Christmas, like he did last year, but maybe he wouldn’t do that either now?
“No, please. Forget about the song idea,” Richard says and Paul laughs so cutely. Richard means it though and the panic must be written clearly in his eyes, because Paul comes closer and presses his warm hand against his cheek.
Richard can’t help it and he leans more into the soft touch.
“Then tell me why you want me to play this part of the song,” Paul orders and Richard swallows. He’s nervous about this, but maybe he really should at least admit a bit of the truth.
“I just… wanted to have a special moment with you on stage,” Richard whispers and suddenly it’s too quiet in the room. Paul’s hand leaves his cheek and Richard almost whines at that. Shit. He had ruined it.
“Reesh, come here,” Paul says and he holds his arms out. After so many years Richard knows what that means, so he gets up and hugs Paul. It feels way too good and Richard presses his cheek against Paul’s shoulder.
He hears how Till leaves them alone and smiles.
“Does that mean I’m back on your nice list?” Richard asks a bit too hopefully. Paul laughs and it sounds even better this close. Richard sighs happily. He could stay like this forever. 
“Not yet, but I’m sure you can make it up to me,” Paul says and he laughs loudly, when he breaks the hug and sees Richard’s outraged face.
“That’s just unfair!”
“That’s life Rich. Don’t worry just a few easy tasks here and there and you will get your cookies,” Paul says and with that he leaves him alone as well.
Richard sits back on his chair and pouts at nothing.
He smokes inside, just because he can.
*
“Rich?”
Richard almost rolls his eyes at that, because he can hear already that Paul wants something from him. Lately Richard really feels like a servant to him and sometimes he wonders why he’s even doing that.
Fuck that damn list. He’s always been a rebel, why should he try to behave like a good boy now? Maybe he should just stop. But in reality he knows that he likes to do stuff for Paul and his stupid heart wants to be liked by Paul. Which is just so stupid as well. He knows that Paul likes him.
Just not in the way he wants.
“Ja?” Richard asks, when he opens Paul’s bedroom door. Paul looks miserable actually and Richard frowns.
“Can you make me tea, please?” Paul says and Richard hastily walks closer to him. Paul really looks as if he’s sick. Normally he never asks for tea, he would just straight drink from the coffee machine, if you didn’t hold him back.
“Of course, are you feeling unwell?” Richard asks and he sits down on the bed next to Paul, who nods the tiniest bit. He’s not wearing a shirt, but Richard is glad that the blanket is covering most of him anyway.
“I think I ate something wrong. My stomach hurts like hell,” Paul says and he pouts. Richard wishes he was allowed to touch him, but it would probably seem weird if he would just cuddle up to him now.
“Shit. You wanna stay in bed today? I could tell the others that you need a break,” Richard says and Paul nods again. He closes his eyes, looking so exhausted. Richard can barely stand seeing him like this, even if it’s just a stomach bug.
“Yeah that would be nice,” Paul admits and Richard nods to himself. It’s nothing that hadn’t happened before. Richard remembers when Schneider had been sick at their studio a few years ago. He’d been out for over a week.
“No problem, do you need anything else?” Richard asks and he sees the cheeky smile on Paul’s face, but decides to ignore it. He’s powerless anyway. 
“Could you fluff up my pillow?” Paul asks and Richard huffs quietly. Paul leans a bit forward and Richard takes the pillow and does as he’s told. Normally it takes people a lot more to make him follow their words, but he’d do everything Paul wants.
“There you go,” Richard whispers and Paul lays back down.
“Thank you,” Paul mouths back. They’re both just looking at each other now. Richard can’t help but get lost in those blue eyes again. 
“Anything for you,” Richard says, already knowing he will regret that. Paul smiles.
“Can you stroke my stomach too?” Paul asks and Richard feels himself nodding, before even thinking about it. He carefully lets his hand wander under the blanket and Paul hisses when his cold fingers find his stomach. 
Richard’s brain is completely empty. He can only feel Paul’s soft skin against his hand. Paul gasps when Richard carefully strokes over his stomach. Richard’s eyes snap back to look at Paul’s. 
The whole mood around them has changed. Richard swallows dryly. 
“Rich… I want you to do one more thing for me,” Paul says and his voice breaks. 
“Y-yeah?”
“Kiss me better?” Paul asks and Richard leans down before he could actually talk himself out of it. He slowly presses his lips on Paul’s, almost shyly. Paul has different plans and pulls him even closer, adding a bit more pressure to their kiss, even though it stays so tender.
Richard is sure that he just died. 
When he opens his eyes, he hastily sits back.
“I should uh… make you the tea,” Richard says and he’s out of the room before Paul can say anything else. 
Richard slowly walks back to the kitchen. His lips are still tingling, but he can’t help but smile. He’s still not sure why Paul had wanted to be kissed, but it had felt so damn good. Maybe Paul had just looked for some comfort? 
Richard always loved someone close to him when he’s sick as well. 
He then walks over to their cupboards and starts to look for Paul’s favorite mug. It’s an ugly orange one, but Paul loves it. When he finally finds it, he slowly starts to boil the water. “Paul is still using you as his servant?” Till chuckles, while he points at the mug and Richard sighs quietly. He hadn’t seen Till standing there in the corner like a creep. He’s holding his notebook in his hand. Richard shrugs.
“Well I still want to make it back to his list,” Richard finally says and to his surprise Till raises his eyebrow.
“What list?”
“The ‘nice list’? The one for Christmas,” Richard says, even doing the stupid air quotes. Till is quiet for a moment and then he starts to chuckle. Low at first, but he gets louder and soon enough he’s laughing loudly.
“Oh shit,” Till grins, even holding his stomach.
“What?”
“Scholle. There is no damn list oh my god. That was a damn joke,” Till says and Richard opens his mouth, but he has no idea what to say. So he pouts instead.
Assholes. The two of them.
“Then… Why did you two do this?” Richard asks and now it’s his stomach that is hurting. Till stops laughing, when he hears how tiny Richard’s voice had gotten.
“I think you should ask Paul about that,” Till says and he pats Richard on the shoulder, before just leaving the room. Richard forgets about the damn tea and walks back up to Paul’s bedroom.
“Oh you were fast,” Paul says, his cheeks still so red. Richard’s brain goes offline for a second again, before he shakes his head to help get rid of any thoughts that aren’t helpful right now.
“There is no list. There never was a list,” Richard says and he’s angry. Mostly he’s hurt but that always turns into anger for him soon enough. Paul looks caught, biting down on his lower lip.
“No…”
“Then why did you make me do all those things? To make fun of me?” Richard asks and he can’t help but get louder. Paul looks down to his hands on his blanket and to Richard’s surprise he actually looks sad and guilty.
He had thought those two were really making a joke out of it and were laughing behind his back. Richard knows they are his friends, he trusts them but sometimes those self-doubts are too loud in his head.
“It was just a joke Till made, but then I kinda went with it because…,” Paul stops himself there. Richard sighs.
"Because?"
“Because I liked having your attention all day and… and I wanted you to be around me all the time and… I’m sorry. I know it’s not right, but otherwise you would’ve never kissed me and…,” Paul starts to ramble and Richard has trouble understanding him.
“You’re wrong,” Richard says loudly and Paul stops. 
“What?”
“There’s nothing I would have loved to do more than kissing you,” Richard says and he hopes he understood Paul right. Paul’s head snaps back up and Richard tries to go for a smile, that probably is more shaky than anything.
“You mean that?” Paul asks and Richard nods. 
His heart is beating so fast and he can hear his blood rushing through his ears.
“Yeah…”
“Fuck, come here please,” Paul says and Richard walks back over to him. This time when he sits down, Paul pulls him even closer and before Richard can say something else, Paul is kissing him again. 
Richard doesn’t complain, he closes his eyes and lets himself be kissed. It stays as soft as their first kiss was and Richard whines against Paul’s lips. He’d never felt like this. Paul treats him as if he’s something special, something precious. Richard’s heart is still not calming down.
“Ich liebe dich, I was just so scared to tell you,” Paul mumbles, when he breaks the kiss. Richard leans his forehead against Paul’s.
“I love you too,” Richard says and Paul’s smile is so beautiful, that Richard can feel himself smile too. He can’t believe he’s so lucky to have this. 
“Now you’re really on my ‘nice’ list,” Paul laughs quietly and Richard steals another short kiss, before he rolls his eyes.
“Funny, you smartass,” Richard says and he strokes over Paul’s stomach again, when Paul lays down again. This time Richard gets out of his slippers and lays down next to him, so Paul and he could cuddle. 
“Well without this joke we still wouldn’t haven’t gotten our heads out of our asses. And besides ‘Sugar and spice make Christmas nice’ you know?” Paul asks and Richard smacks a pillow on his head.
“Fair,” Richard whispers anyway.
“And… I’d really like to share the Ausländer part together. I really liked your idea of it,” Paul says and his smile is so sweet. Richard chuckles.
“Only if we kiss like Till said.”
“Deal.”
25 notes · View notes