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#Bless them for looking out for the best for kids
gglitch1dd · 3 days
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"Best husband in the world" award goes to Izuku Midoriya. I head cannon that he NEVER leaves the honeymoon phase, even after having kids!
Wifey is treated like royalty, Always gets gifts, he dresses up for dates bc his wife LOVES it, shows her off in gala's (one red-eyed hero is pissed) even the boys are so sick of seeing the random smooches Izu steals from his wife 😂
Bet Toshi would say "Don't you have enough kids already?" -_-
The poor boy is TIRED
Honestly, I believe in every single syllable that just came out of your mouth.
He never leaves the honeymoon phase. That man is in love from the moment he meets you to the moment he dies.
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If there was one thing that Midoriya Izuku knew that he couldn't get enough of, it was you. His beautiful wife of seventeen years. Everyday, waking up next to you was like a dream and he didn't want to be woken up.
He's enraptured by you and your very being. Even after five boys and you not getting any younger, he's still obsessed with you like you were newly weds.
He keeps every sticky note that you leave on his bento boxes for lunch and has boxes upon boxes of them saved from the years that have gone by. He would never deny anything you made him because it was made by you, his amazing wife, by your loving and gentle hands that he kisses daily.
Izuku honestly still doubts he's that good of a father or a perfect husband either, but he knows he's as good as he can be with you at his side.
You gave him everything that is his world. You made the apartment you both had in the beginning feel like a home. Coming home to your waiting arms and loving expression was what kept his feet moving everyday.
When he was a prohero he often wondered what he was missing in his life. Even though becoming Number One at such a young age and achieving his goal of being the next predecessor of All Might, of owning his own hero agency, millions at his disposal, he only ever felt truly complete when he met you.
You...
Oh dear God, he loved you.
The day he married you was the best day of his life. He had cried the moment he saw you in that beautiful white dress and he had cried when you had both signed the marriage certificate, and he had cried when he had his first dance with you too.
He knew from the first day he met you that he wanted to marry you. He didn't believe in just dating for funsies and wasting your time. No, he wanted you in a sort of way he didn't know how to explain.
He wanted you in way that was to have and to old, in sickness and in health, in life and in death. Knowing that when he looked down at you on your wedding night, when he had you in his arms, your breath heavy and your eyes half lidded, when you stared up at him with such blown out love in your eyes. When he sunk deep inside of you, he knew that your souls would become one and he would never depart from you.
Where you went, he went.
Where you stayed, he would stay.
It's not true what they say about heroes, least not for Izuku. For Izuku would watch the world burn and have you by his side.
"Dad!"
"Hm?" Izuku straightened up as he was lost in thought. Toshinori waved his hand over his face, making sure that his father was still alright. He raised a green eyebrow as he looked up at his father. "Are you alright? You spaced out for a second there."
Izuku looked down at his oldest son. Midoriya Toshinori.
Wow, even just the thought of him having a son still shook him till this day. The thought that he, a man that grew up without a father, who at one point believed he wasn't worth anything more than what other people said he was worth, could have a son.
A son, you gave him.
He could still remember the day you told him that you were pregnant with Toshinori. Izuku had gone to sleep with you in his arms, a hand over your stomach still unbelieving but he was sure he had soaked his pillow because of the tears that left his eyes.
You had blessed him with a gift that he could never even begin to comprehend how uniquely special it was.
"I'm alright." Izuku laughed as he went down the final step of the staircase, having just freshened up. "Have you finished your homework?"
Toshinori nodded his head as he put his hands in his pockets. "Yah but honestly, all that math had me going cross-eyed. I'm having Asahi look at it." He motioned to his younger brother, but a mere eleven.
Asahi adjusted his glasses as he scribbled down on the tablet with a stylus. He scoffed as he lifted his head to look up at his father. "Honestly dad, Toshinori just needs a prayers. Only Jesus can help him now."
"HEY!" Toshinori let out offended as he walked over to where his younger brother was sitting at the table.
Asahi motioned to the tablet. "This is basic maths!"
Toshinori's eyebrows furrowed. "How the hell is this basic maths?! It's grade nine level algebra!"
"As I said, basic maths!"
"Alright Einstein!" Toshinori taunted his younger brother with a look on his face and hands on his hips that reminded Izuku so much of you. "You do it!" He pointed to the screen.
Asahi rolled his eyes as he flipped the screen so that Toshinori could see. "Do you need my glasses, cause I already did!"
His second son, Midoriya Asahi. Honestly, Izuku was sure that in Asahi he saw himself. He saw himself in that kid everyday and he loved every second of it. His second son.
That you gave him.
He was so smart and so bright. A genuine child genius. Although quirkless, he was beyond his years. Izuku loved to sit down with him and watched as his mind thought at the speed of light at a pace that only Izuku could understand because he did that too.
Nothing beat having Asahi on his shoulders as he took him to the Hero Support labs in his Hero Agency. The way that kids eyes widened in awe is something Izuku would treasure forever. Having him interact and ask questions that not even Izuku could understand but was happy to participate regardless.
To think he could ever have such a kid.
"Asahi." He chuckled as he walked over to his second son, putting a hand on his head of green curls. "Be patient with him, remember not everyone learns as fast as you."
Asahi huffed, his cheeks that had light freckles on them puffed but he nodded his head. "Okay." He groaned.
"What are we doing?" Hero asked as he peaked his head over to see the tablet that was on the table. He took one look at the tablet and his face scrunched up. "Ew maths." His reaction made Izuku laugh as he decided to leave his two eldest be. "Dad catch!"
It was a fast throw but Izuku caught it nonetheless. The rugby ball in his hand was firm and in perfect condition, considering he got it for Hero three weeks ago. The kid went through equipment faster than Izuku could break a bone.
Midoriya Hero, although being eight years old, he was entranced with sports and was pretty good at them too, specifically field sports. Izuku felt like somewhere inside himself he was healing the little boy inside of him that never got to play sports with someone, not like the way him and Asahi would play around with a ball in the garden.
Something so precious yet so simple.
Something that was only possible because of you.
Izuku chuckled. "Nice throw. You're getting better, but remember..." He tossed him back the ball, it landing in his arms. "Not playing around inside with the ball."
"Okay." He nodded as he left to go to the sitting room.
"And did you do your homework?" Izuku called back after him.
"Yah! Asahi looked at it."
Izuku turned to his second oldest who shot him a thumbs up, showing that Hero was telling the truth. He hummed with a smile as he moved towards the kitchen where the smell of dinner was spilling out from.
"Daddy!" Running out of the kitchen was his fourth son, Shoyo. He had the brightest little smile on his face as he lifted up a crayon picture for him to see. "Daddy look! I drew you something."
Izuku chuckled as he picked up the little boy. He was the happiest out of all your children together. Even when he cried, he would try to smile. He was like the sun and always filled with giggles. It was why you called him Shoyo, because he smiled even as a newborn.
Izuku knew that such joy in his life could have only been given through you.
"Really? let me see?" He carried the young boy on his hip as he looked down at the drawing. It was a crayon drawing of what he assumed was him in his hero uniform. That or it could be a bunny with a cape.
Shoyo was never really gifted with artistic talent but he tried anyways. And Izuku loved them all.
"Aww, it looks great buddy." He placed a kiss to Shoyo's face. "I love it. Why don't you go put it in my office for me? I can put it right on my desk."
Shoyo's smile grew even wider as he nodded his bushy hair of green curls. "Okay!" Once set down, he went trotting away towards the staircase.
Izuku entered the kitchen and sitting on your hip was Koda, the final sprout in your little garden that was your family. He was a rather shy thing and clung to you like a baby koala, but he sure was the sweetest. He smiled at his father tiredly with a wave of his hand.
He often fell sick easily, but he was such a strong trooper.
He put a hand to his head as he carefully moved the young three year old to be held in his arms instead, allowing you free reign over the kitchen.
Your heavenly voice reached his ears, instantly taking his attention. You smiled as you turned to look up at him. "How was your day, my love?"
His shoulders eased as he moved to step behind you. He rested his head against you briefly, your body just fitting into his perfectly. "I can't complain when I come back home to this everyday." He stated, moving down to kiss your cheek.
You chuckled as you lifted up the spoon for him to taste part of dinner. He opened his mouth, allowing you to feed him to taste. He let out a groan as he nodded his head. You laughed at your husband's antics. "Ready?"
"Definitely." He informed you with a nod of his head. He looked you over as you stood in an apron and fitted sweatpants. He hadn't seen you in those pants in ages and yet they clung to you like a deadly weopon and Izuku was a wounded soldier. His eyes looked you over with shameless obviousness. "Damn, where did these come from?" He asked as he moved to turn you to face him, a hand moving to your ass shamelessly.
You shot up with a heated expression with a squeak. You swatted his chest with little to no intent to actually drive him away. "Izuku! I'm cooking."
"Can't I appreciate my beautiful wife?" He asked with a rested grin on his face as he leaned down closer to you. A soft peck to your lips. "You look gorgeous, honey." His lips met yours again for a longer kiss.
You couldn't help but giggle as you let him kiss you, moving a hand to wrap around him. He always managed to give you butterflies, even now.
Years of being together, of mapping out each other's bodies and memorising everything new and old, and you never got tired of it. Even after five pregnancies and the effect that had on your body, Izuku just craved you more and more. He never asked you to change, and always loved you as you were.
How couldn't he?
You were the reason that he was happy, that he had everything that made him feel like a man.
You made him a husband.
You made him a father.
You made him happy.
Izuku couldn't even begin to think of where to thank you, but he would do so for the rest of his life.
"EW! Dad! Get off of mom!" Toshinori shouted from the table with a scrunched up face.
Hero scrunched up his own face. "That's disgusting."
"Right over our dinner." Asahi shook his head in sheer disappointment.
You separated from you husband with a giggle as he looked to his sons with half annoyance. You turned to grab a serving spoon but Izuku adjusted poor Koda who was resting in his arms as Izuku pointed to his sons. "Hey! This is my wife, okay. I get to kiss her."
"Yah." Toshinori acknowledged. "But she's our mom."
Asahi and Hero nodded their heads in agreement with their older brother.
Izuku frowned before he turned to you. "Y/N, the kids are being mean to me." He complained as he pointed to your three eldest siblings.
You shook your head in a chuckle as you motioned to your sprouts. "Boys, get your homework off the table and set it for dinner please."
"Yes mom."
"And you, mister." You turned to your husband with a pointed look but smiled as you had your hand rest over his chest. You smiled as you reached up and kissed his cheek. "Get Shoyo for me, won't you? And sit down, dinner is ready." You let out softly.
Izuku looked down at you with blown out pupils. "I love you." He whispered down to you.
You giggled. "I love you too, Izuku."
"No, Y/N, I... I love you."
-Glitch1d
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estcaligo · 2 days
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Sebek's ears
Sebek x gn!reader, with a bit of angst
"Sebek, put that down!" a worried shout pierced the room. Doctor Zigvolt dashed towards the boy, but it was too late - the child had already nicked his ear. It wasn't a serious injury, thankfully, but blood stained his son's ear, neck, shirt, and his mint hair.
Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Zigvolt hurried into the room. "Darling, what's-...!!!" Her voice caught in her throat, turned into a scream of shock that thundered throughout the household, startling every bird in the vicinity into a flutter of panic, as if sensing an imminent danger. 
But there was no danger. Only blood. And tears. And a kid in front of a mirror with a kitchen knife in his hands.
"Sebek, let me take a look. You might get an infec- " Mr. Zigvolt tried to approach Sebek gently, but the boy pushed him away, sobbing loudly.
"This is your fault! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! I HATE YOU!!!" Sebek cried out in despair, tears streaming down his sorrowful face as he ran past his parents. Mrs. Zigvolt could easily treat any wounds (it was one of the reasons she had been accepted to work at her husband's clinic despite lacking medical training), but now was not the time - Sebek wouldn't listen. So she just stood beside her spouse, watching their youngest son run away, not daring to break the silence. Words were unnecessary; they both understood. Sebek, despite being only 5, had already expressed a grand displeasure towards his human side. The destructive prejudice he had acquired not without help…
"A kitchen knife?... Back in Briar Valley, my grandfather would always look displeased whenever I entered the kitchen. So, I'm entirely unfamiliar with all cooking implements." Sebek said to the ghost chef.
"Oh? Why is that?" the chef asked.
"I have no idea... But he especially kept me away from sharp objects, like knives." he replied, examining the object in his hand.
"Well, mastering this skill is necessary for the course, so do your best!" the chef cheered, floating next to him.
"YES, CHEF!" Sebek boomed, making all the pans and pots shiver, and got back to cooking his dish.
It was rigorous but rewarding training, Sebek reflected, slowly washing his hands. Days spent in the kitchen were filled with various instructions and orders from the ghost chefs, requiring quick reactions, but due to their ghostly nature their words often faded, lingering in the air, so a regular human would have trouble hearing them. BUT NOT SEBEK ZIGVOLT. He had perfect hearing, his ears were sharper than...
…Sharper than what?....
He looked into the mirror of the Diasomnia dorm's bathroom, coming to wash away the smell and smudges from the Master Chef course. His face darkened once again as he lingered too long on his right ear. He remembered that day vividly. When he, a young and immature kid, tried to... tried to become a fae? Tired of being bullied by those around him, he believed that if he changed his ears - made them pointy like everyone else's - it would help him fit in. But now he understood how foolish it was.
Yet still. What makes a fae?  A pair of pointy ears? “Not necessarily” is what his mother always used to say Be blessed by night, but don’t forget about the day And remembers, and he knows No need in those Yet still.
A bitter feeling of unfairness washed over him as he was drifting off to sleep.
Why? Of all human qualities, why did he have to have round ears? He had asked himself this question a million times. And it wasn't as if he lacked fae qualities - his hearing surpassed any human's, and he could even hear and understand the fae language, something no human could do due to its nature. He possessed all these abilities, yet they were overshadowed by this small, bitter nuance - his appearance. Genetics had played a cruel joke on him, he thought. Despite his efforts, he will always look like a weak, useless human.
Speaking of weak humans.
You and Sebek had arranged to meet at the gates to head down to Foothill Town today. Rumor had it that the famous bookshop there had new arrivals, and you were eager to take a look. And since Sebek was so knowledgeable about books, you invited him along. Of course, it wasn't like he really wanted to go with you! He had far more important matters to attend to. However, he couldn't risk you selecting subpar books that you might later mention in conversations with Master Malleus - Sebek couldn't let your lack of discernment in literature reflect poorly on the Young Lord!! So, he was coming with you, for that reason alone, nothing more! … The road wasn't long, and once you arrived at the shop, you began browsing the shelves. The selection was vast: novels, scientific works, poems, historical texts, dictionaries, even books in languages you couldn’t understand. Unable to decide, you grabbed a handful of books that caught your attention and retreated to a quiet corner to examine your finds.
“Get on with this human, I don't have all day” he said, standing next to you, arms crossed.
“Ok ok, how about this one?”
"It looks fine. You can keep it, I suppose."
"Great! And this?" you showed Sebek another book, but he frowned slightly.
"It doesn't seem like a decent book to me. Better put it away."
"Why? It's about knights. What exactly do you dislike about it?"
"The cover doesn't look appealing. As if they didn't put much effort into designing it properly!" he declared loudly enough to draw a few judgmental glances from the other customers.
"And that's it?" you blinked at him. "But the plot itself must be good!"
"I've given my opinion, do as you wish, human!" he huffed, turning away.
"...Oh, Sebek. Never judge a book by its cover."
In the end, you purchased quite a few books (Crowley had been unusually generous this month, providing you with some extra money), and Sebek helped you carry them back to the Ramshackle. As a thank-you for accompanying you, you offered to share a cup of tea together and he agreed. 
...However, for the two of you, it was never just "having a cup of tea".
As usual, you found yourselves engrossed in intimate conversations, drawn close to each other.
Grim was absent, so it was just you and him on the couch in the spacious Ramshackle hall. Two cups of tea, long forgotten and gone cold, sat on the table.
Sebek rested his head on your lap, as he often did during your moments together, rambling about the books, his duties, or about Malleus, speaking quieter than his usual self. And you just patiently listened, knowing how hard he worked every day and wanting him to have some rest once in a while. The fact that he could relax in your presence made you genuinely happy.
Wrapped in serenity, you gently caressed his mint hair, occasionally running your fingers over his ears. You had grown accustomed to seeing them very clearly, as Sebek wore his hair swept back all the time. But when he was with you he sometimes let his hair loose and his ears became hidden amidst the soft waves of green, looking like two small islands surrounded by endless grassy seas. Or like curious animals peeking from the leaves. It was both adorable and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle quietly. “Human! Is there a problem with your ears?! I’m talking to you!” Sebek’s loud voice brought you back from your daydreaming.
“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.” 
“Hmph! And what was so captivating that you ignored my question?”
“Oh... er... your ears” you smiled shyly.
“My... what?”
“Your beautiful, lovely, adorable ears" you laughed at his reaction, showering him with compliments before placing a kiss on his right ear - the one he had once tried to...
A wave of strange warmth suddenly flushed through his body. Why would you say such things about his terrible flaw?
All his life, people around him in his homeland had diminished him because of his round ears. On Sage’s Island, people just ignored this feature, so he assumed they wouldn’t comment on the obvious. But you? The way you touched them, the way you kissed them - without revulsion, without hesitation, without doubt.
For a moment, he felt something unfamiliar - like nothing else mattered. An unusual feeling, one he only experienced by your side. But he liked it.
Who cared if he didn't have pointy ears? Who cared about others' judgments?
You were right - only fools judge a book by its cover.
“Sebek, do you hear me?” you were the one asking this time.
“Yes. Yes, I can hear you very well, dear human” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
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atinylittlepain · 13 hours
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Little Pinch
nurse!marcus pike x f!reader
she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.
wordcount | 3.3K
content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls
a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless
..........................................................................
Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 
It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 
The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 
If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 
“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 
“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 
“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.
“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 
“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 
“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.
“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”
“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 
“Do you live around here?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 
“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.
“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 
“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 
“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”
“Do you have a golden retriever?”
“What?”
“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 
“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 
“Great name.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?
“Alright, that’s the last one.”
“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.
“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 
“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 
“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–
“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 
“You feeling okay?”
“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 
“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 
“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you had to deal with that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”
“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 
“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 
“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 
“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 
“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 
“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 
“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 
“Ma’am?”
“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.
“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 
“How have you been since we– you, well–”
“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 
“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 
“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”
“No?”
“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”
“I was not nervous.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”
“What thing?”
“The pretty thing.”
“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 
“So, you do live around here then?” 
“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”
“I do.”
“Nice, nice.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Wow.” 
“What? I’m making conversation.”
“You’re still not very good at it.”
“I’ll keep working on it for you.”
“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”
“What kind do you think I get?”
“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”
“Somehow I feel insulted.”
“Well.”
“You’re not even right either.” 
“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to Simple Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 
“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 
“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 
“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”
“Thank you, thank you.” 
“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”
“Yeah, we’re not bad.”
“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”
“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 
“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 
“I might be free on Saturday.”
“I might also be free on Saturday.” 
“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”
“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 
“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 
“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 
“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.
“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 
“Kinda weird, you know.”
“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”
“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”
“So, Saturday?”
“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 
50 notes · View notes
chilschuck · 3 days
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Can I maybe get a platonic thing where reader is dating one of Chilchucks daughters (probably flertom) but is also an adventurer themselves and join the party hoping to get their girlfriends dad to like them?
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ hi anon!!! ofc you can! <33 i hope this turned out okay, i wrote it in between clients at work, LOL. it’s short but sweet, and i had fun imagining chil being protective!
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— CHILCHUCK (& FLERTOM): platonic!chil x gn!reader hcs.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + chil being protective dad, lol.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 627
✦ going insane bc tumblr deleted it right as i was about to post it. sobs. but i hope you enjoy it!! (;;w;;)
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✦ When you first joined the party, it was under the guise that you just needed a group to help you get to the lower levels. Laios being who he is, was more than happy to get your help with the rest of the members.
✦ You had an ulterior motive, one you wouldn’t be revealing so soon: the goal to get your girlfriend’s dad to approve of you. Flertom had told you before that it was totally fine, and that you shouldn’t worry yourself too much over it. She loved you, and that’s all that should matter. Yet, you found yourself unhappy to know that not only did he not know of your existence in her life, but that he hadn’t given you his blessing.
✦ Making sure not to let too much slip, you did your absolute best to get the man to like you. Whether it be staying out of his way while he worked or by showing your own worth, you worked extremely hard to get on his good side.
✦ Occasionally you’d talk about your girlfriend, mainly how much you adored her and that she made you really content. Chilchuck would hum, mulling over everything you said. It never occurred to him that you’d be talking about his daughter of all people, but he’d give you advice once in a while about certain things.
✦ Chilchuck thought you were a good asset. You stayed in your own lane yet brought about your own skills, something he valued. Your interest in his work made him a little happy as well, and it was nice to have someone around his daughters’ age in the party. It made him miss his own kids a lot.
✦ It had been a good while of you being in the party, and you felt it was finally time to show your true motive. You waited until Chilchuck was relaxed, enjoying a drink as everyone made camp.
“You know, there’s something I haven’t told you about myself,” you began, a tinge of nervousness in your voice. You had worked so hard to build up the reputation you had with him, and didn’t want to tear it all down in one sitting.
Chilchuck raised an eyebrow at you, taking a sip of his drink. His silence was a push to keep talking.
“I’m… My girlfriend is Flertom.” The words weren’t rushed, in fact they left you in an exhale of relief that they finally were spoken. Meanwhile, you felt the fear return to your chest when Chilchuck choked on his drink.
After his coughing fit, the half-foot banged on his chest, turning to look at you incredulously. “My daughter is your girlfriend? This whole time, it’s been her?!”
✦ After that talk, he didn’t speak to you for a little while. It was discouraging, but you tried your best to give him the space he needed. When you seemed down more than usual one day, he turned his attention to you and sighed.
✦ “You know, I’ve been thinking… I guess if you’re the one with her, it’s not too bad… You’re an okay kid.” You immediately perked up at his words, before he stuck out an accusatory finger at you.
✦ “But! If you hurt her, or break her heart, or anything like that, you’re gonna have to go through me. Got it?” His voice came out in a tone that had you glued to the floor, but you nodded as quickly as you could. You’ll definitely keep that in mind.
✦ Chilchuck thought back to the letter he had received, with how happy Fler had seemed with you. Well… He guesses that if it stays the way it is now… He’d be fine with it.
✦ For now.
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fallow-hollow · 2 days
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haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)
but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (`_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0
( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )
i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!
suitor
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…ft! kabru x male! reader
…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids
…word count! 2025
…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!
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Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.
Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.
Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.
“Kabru?”
Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.
“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.
With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”
“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”
Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….
“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”
The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.
“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”
He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.
When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.
I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.
Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.
Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.
“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.
“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”
Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.
“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”
The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.
“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”
A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”
Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.
“I mean it, I really do.”
Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.
In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.
“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……
“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”
There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”
Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.
“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…
While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,
“It’s really nice!”
Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.
I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.
Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.
Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.
A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.
“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.
Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.
“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.
“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”
The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.
“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”
Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.
“Yeah, I like it too.”
Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.
This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.
Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.
Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.
More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.
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zeldasnotes · 6 months
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VENUS IN THE HOUSES
Things your placement makes me think of.🪽
𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣
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VENUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE: Life path 1, dimples, snobby, too interested in others opinion on them, fitting into societys expections, special treatment, face of the city, girl next door, brand name clothes, kindness, helpful, inability to say no, two faced, dimples, hourglass shaped body, stylist, insecure about appearance, smiley, graceful , slow and elegant body movements, cupidbow lips, pouty mouth, blessed, materialistic, a certain softness to the appearance and body, long eyelashes.
VENUS IN THE 2ND HOUSE: Using their voice to manipulate, sensual voice, refined, magic touch, morally correct, strong need to be surrounded by comfort, comforting clothes, sensitive to materials, stubborn, hard time letting go of people, identifying with what they own, identifying with their moral values and opinions, attracting rich as successful partners, chefs, 5 star restaurants, sugar addiction, self care content, hoarders, tree hut scrub collection.
VENUS IN THE 3RD HOUSE: Compliments, nicknames, popular cousins, hanging out with siblings and cousins, having a popular and well known sibling, good reputation, well liked in their neighbourhood, avoiding arguments, passive aggressive, always one the phone, gossip, using complicated words to sound intelligent, socialite, popular, they know everybody, polite, creative, soft spoken, flirty, someone who loves to mingle, the teacher who ends the critique with a compliment, overuse of emojis.
VENUS IN THE 4TH HOUSE: Real Estate agents, interior designers, expensive furniture, having a goodlooking mother, a kind and loving mother, strong love for their home country, patriots, prefering food from the homecountry, posting house tours, beautifully decorated home, buying the latest and most expensive electronics for their home, cozy, fireplace, a family who cares about public image, spoiled, mommys or daddys little girl/boy, having the best looking lawn in the neighbourhood.
VENUS IN THE 5TH HOUSE: Confident, their kids being considered good looking by societys standards, their children are usually venusians, a house full of daughters, artistic, stylist, sequin dresses, flashy style and personality, attracted to confident people, loving to show off their back, backless dress, backdimples, entertainer, started dating early in life, generous, loving children, pre school teachers, noticing people for their hair & confidence level, when they commit they commit, worshipping their partner and wanting to be worshipped.
VENUS IN THE 6TH HOUSE: Clean girl aesthetic, workout clothes, lululemon collection, gym, receptionist, looking good in an uniform, getting hit on at work, 10 step skincare routine, cleantok, the pink stuff collection, serving nature, needing to feel productive, nurse, connecting their self worth to how productive they are, hard worker, attractive go workers, givers, self sacrificing, getting hired because of how they look, getting jobs easily, organisation, providers, working with art, working with beauty, working with laser hair removal, skincare therapist.
VENUS IN THE 7TH HOUSE: Sought after, wifey/husband material, dating popular people, always in a relationship, wanting a gorgeous partner, wanting to show you can get the baddest b*tch in town, pick me, attracting venusians, hard time saying no, bragging about their partner, bending over backwards to keep the peace, matching outfits with the partner, basing self worth on how liked they are, the girl next door, desired, the one everyone wants, getting married early.
VENUS IN THE 8TH HOUSE: Golddigger, trophy wife, gold jewelry, special treatment, users, all black outfits, pretty privilege, getting into locked rooms because of their looks, vengeful, inability to let go, attracting powerful people, attracting stalkers, people having strong reactions to their looks, loving the taboo, morbid taste, sensual, obsessed with beauty, expensive taste, having haters because of their looks, people wanting to look like them, triangle drama, surrounded by bitchy women, attracted to the wicked and disturbing, a dark look, beautiful genitals, dark makeup, smokey eye, goth.
VENUS IN THE 9TH HOUSE: Traveling as a love language, history lovers, someone who loves to read, well informed, strong opinions about religion, spiritual people , ”everything happens for a reason-mindset” hot teacher look, looking good in leather and boots, if they work as a teacher will be every kids favorite teacher, well liked by teachers, prefering people from a different culture than their own, teachers pet, hot legs, someone who peaked in high school, long distance relationships, understanding difficult topics, optimistic, openminded, wise as an owl, bookworm.
VENUS IN THE 10TH HOUSE: IT-girl, business owner, beauty clinics, braces, perfect bone structure, lashgirl in town, authority, face of the company, being favored by the public, being hired because of how they look, face of the city, people taking their side, attracting partners who want them to boost their image, arm candy, everyone in the neighbourhoods first crush, no idea to even try to ruin their reputation, everyone loves them, their mistakes sweeped under the rug, a reputation for being beautiful and well behaved, judgmental of people with a bad reputation, wanting to know everyone, natural beauty, well connected, authority, a body language that screams ”respect me”.
VENUS IN THE 11TH HOUSE: Big name, socialite, surrounded by big names, cloutchaser, influencer, the right connections, insta famous, they get to know others easily, gang members, gang leaders, drug cartels, the regina george of the group, huge social circle, the leader of the group or the baby of the group, open minded, progressive, attracted to someone who stands out, attracted to the outcast, quirky girl/guy, from friends to lovers, friends with exes, female friends, friends with the right people, overnight success, going viral, linkedin, popularity, meeting partners on the internet, dating apps, relationship drama on social media.
VENUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE: Psychic, wolf in sheeps clothing, looking more innocent than they actually are, morphing into what their partner want them to be, taking care of the poisonous snake and getting shocked when it bite, being an artist, shy, introvert, falling for emotionally unavailable people, feeling lonely, numbing the pain, extreme naivite, bambi, falling head over heels, trying to heal people, feeling bad for the one everyone hates, others fantasizing about them, others projecting their ideal onto them, glamorous, being talked into anything because people can sense they want to please, romantic, shirts with heartprint, confused look.
© 2023 Zeldas Notes
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il-miele-che-scrive · 3 months
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Go for his brother part 2
Part 1 here
Part 3 here
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username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭
↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend
↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup
username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀
username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur
↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge
username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie
username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction
username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao
↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol
username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama
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yourusername The Art & The Artist
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charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all
↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭
username1 MY OH MY
username2 What did she say 😐
username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her
username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)
francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶
↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶
username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf
username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?
username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying
yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️
↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅
username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme
↳username5 What makes you think that?
username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake
username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day
exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷
↳yourusername 😐
↳francisca.cgomes 😐
↳yoursister 😐
↳charles_leclerc 😐
↳pierregasly 😐
↳georgerussell63 😐
↳carmenmmundt 😐
↳alex_albon 😐
↳lilymhe 😐
username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭
↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣
username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST
username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?
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arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️
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exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️
username1 💀
username2 Alright they both have the audacity
username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao
username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol
↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED
username5 They deserve each other tbh
username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...
↳username7 wdym
username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭
username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao
exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us
↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you
↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮
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yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️
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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?
yoursister You guys look so good together
↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily
↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊
↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭
lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing
↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together
username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭
username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE
↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation
username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?
username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure
username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur
username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment
arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?
↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????
↳username3 wtf are u doing here
↳yourusername Maybe...
username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏
username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr
alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date
↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where
arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this
↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom
arthur_leclerc You know what I mean
arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point
yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually
arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever
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charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after
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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS
pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected
↳username2 bro speaking facts
username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭
username4 Well at least the family already knew her
↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry
username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?
alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year
↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it
francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂
↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶
arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are
↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful
↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party
username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶
username2 at least the "maman" is the same right
username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur
username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭
↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like
carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂
↳username9 Not funny
username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace
↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢
carlossainz55 Valid point
arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend
charles_leclerc On which you cheated
arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?
↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao
↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again
arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me
yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me
charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us
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sttoru · 9 months
Note
toji taking care of reader who’s pregnant with gumi
just some pure fluff 😭😭
ෆ tags. (soon-to-be)dad!toji x female reader. fluff. a little sprinkle of angst added, oopsies.
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“my wife’s lookin’ real sexy, ey?” toji lets out a low whistle as he leans against the doorframe of the kitchen. it was early in the morning and you were cooking breakfast for your husband since he had gotten home late the night before.
“good morning to you too.” you teasingly roll your eyes at toji’s words. you thought those flirty comments would get less when you got pregnant, but instead, they increased in frequency. toji absolutely adores how you look with a swollen belly full of a new life and he shows it through his actions every day.
toji chuckles and walks up to you, big hands instantly finding their place on your stomach as per usual, “and good mornin’ to megumi.”
megumi, the name meaning ‘blessing’, is what your husband insisted on naming your child ever since he found out you were pregnant. toji’s mind was set on that choice and he was not giving up until you caved in. regardless of the gender of the child, the name was a beautiful one. with a beautiful meaning.
“babe,” toji whispers into your ear after placing a peck on the exposed skin of your shoulder, “come sit down. i’ll take care of breakfast, alright?”
toji detached your hands from the pans and utensils, bringing them to his lips to place soft kisses all over your fingertips. he had gotten more gentle with you over time and you loved it. toji pampered you to the fullest degree: doing almost all chores, cooking dinner and breakfast, making your bed, helping you bathe and getting you whatever you wanted without a single ounce of hesitation.
your husband once drove two whole hours because the stores in the neighbourhood didn’t have that one specific item you craved. and that one time where he called off an important appointment with his agent because you had showed the slightest bit of fatigue.
it’s a blessing bestowed upon him that he gets a chance to have a family of his own. he has never thought about it, not even once. he thought life wouldn’t have mercy on him since he never had any mercy on mankind due to his job as an assassin.
even if work has been hard on him lately; as long as his wife and child are content, he is as well.
“but-” “nu-uh. sit down.” toji insists and carefully guides you to sit on a chair near the kitchen table. he kneels before you, one hand on your belly and the other intertwined with yours. he lowers his head to your round tummy and kisses it like he always does in the mornings, “just relax and let y’r hubby do it for ya, alright? i’ll finish breakfast.”
it isn’t like you don’t want toji to do it, it’s just that.. it always looks like there’s been an invasion in your kitchen every time he cooks. plus, the food ends up burnt at the sides sometimes. you still give in and nod. toji was trying his best to be the caring and loving husband after all, “okay, okay. thank you.”
toji grins from ear to ear and pinches your cheek gently. before he gets up from his position in front of you, toji puts his ear on your stomach, softly rubbing the sides over your shirt with his hands; “megumi, be nice to your mama today, alright? no causing her problems or you’ll get in trouble, kid.”
toji’s playful words never fail to gain a laugh from you. your husband never misses the chance to have a ‘conversation’ with his child. it’s turned into part of his daily routine at this point. sometimes he’ll scold megumi, sometimes he tries to whistle a fun tune to his unborn child.
toji’s already got such a special bond with your baby. it’s his first born and he’s determined to not mess things up.
even if parenthood can be difficult to new parents: you have each other to count on.
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thisisnotthenerd · 7 days
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ok but all the bad kids were so strategic and effective in the last stand. i know gorgug's crits and fig's spells were huge but everyone really played to the best of their class. look here for the questions and killing blows.
adaine's spell usage was super effective--the mephits granting advantage and blinding opponents. the scatter to get the melee fighters where they're the most effective. using mirror image and her bonus action divination cantrips to not get hit. the use of the portents was excellent--keeping gorgug from taking huge damage from the purple worm and allowing fig to crit on the wyvern enhanced both of their strategy immensely. she split the difference between damage and utility very well.
kristen's bless let the melee attacks hit when they would have missed and she held that concentration the entire time, while intermittently healing and reducing the number of enemies they had to face (skeletons & manticore) and getting out of the way where she wouldn't be targeted. if she hadn't been moved to the side by buddy no one would have caught kipperlilly. absolutely critical support casting. ally really took a lot from playing margaret and applied it here.
fig, despite feeling insecure about her melee attacks, did a ton with her melee cantrip/smite combos (insane) and ambient spirit guardians. by moving around the battlefield strategically and drawing attention as the fake proctor she dealt with the smaller enemies (jellies, stirges, rust monsters, mimic) and actively took down the shrimp dragon, wyvern, and pentacorn.
riz went the other direction; hiding and using the extra action from haste to get sneak attack multiple times in the round. his sneak attacks really served to whittle away at high hp counts when the bad kids had to split focus. plus the clutch defeat of the roper and umber hulk was excellent.
fabian wasn't critting as often as gorgug, but he followed a similar strategy to fig; where she drew attention and killed enemies with AOE and melee, fabian drew attention from single combatants and dealt with them effectively: he practically soloed the hydra and roper with assistance from riz and kept the umber hulk and crab man off of his allies as the final wave converged.
gorgug thistlespring. the crit king. initially he was doing big damage in a similar strategy to riz; he got huge hits on the gorgon and shrimp dragon before taking on by far the most challenging enemy, the purple worm, with assistance from adaine's attack spells. two full turns as the only combatant taking damage from the worm, while knocking it prone every single turn.
this was the battle of the brands for the bad kids, scaled for level 13 combatants. they put everything into this fight.
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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nexusnyx · 1 year
Text
miss sunshine
pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.
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read on ao3 | masterlist
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.
When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.
Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.
Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."
Fuck.
Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.
His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.
They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"
Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"
Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.
What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.
His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.
You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."
He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."
"Any special occasions coming up soon?"
Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"
"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."
"Brainstorming...?"
"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."
You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"
The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.
You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"
"Always," he nods.
"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.
He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.
"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.
Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."
"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"
"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"
At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."
"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.
You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.
When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.
Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.
"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."
"Aren't those the same?"
"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"
"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."
"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."
"That's true."
"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."
He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"
That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."
I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."
Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"
Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."
"And that'd be a bad thing?"
"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.
It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."
You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."
"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."
Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."
His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."
"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"
Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."
"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."
"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."
Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"
"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."
Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?
"That makes sense."
Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"
Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.
"I'll let you," you answer.
Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.
"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."
"I'll leave the door open."
"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."
"Alright, jeez," you laugh.
It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?
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When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.
It makes your brain melt.
Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.
He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.
It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.
For now.
"Brand new man?" you ask.
He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."
You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.
Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"
"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"
Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."
"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"
Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."
You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"
Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."
"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.
"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."
Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.
"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."
"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"
"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."
"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.
You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"
He pins you under his gaze.
You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.
"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.
Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."
It grounds you.
The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.
Joel talks about anything, no reservations.
In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.
Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?
He wasn't.
Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.
Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.
Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.
He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.
Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.
He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.
The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.
"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."
Joel was very attentive.
He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"
"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."
He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."
"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."
"Do you?"
"'Course. Most days."
"Oh my—"
"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."
It was easy.
Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.
He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.
In his skin.
That was intoxicating.
When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?
The first bottle end, but it's too soon.
You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.
Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.
You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."
"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.
The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"
"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."
"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."
"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."
"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"
Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"
"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.
Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.
When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."
"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"
"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."
"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."
Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."
"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."
Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.
It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...
Well, very few times.
Fuck, you think.
Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.
He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?
Once in Rome...
Fuck it.
It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.
The air outside could be felt.
When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.
He has the whole night free.
You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.
Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."
You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.
He moved his chair closer again.
"Do share," you urge.
Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."
You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.
Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.
"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."
"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.
"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."
"What did he make you promise?"
"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."
You take note of the effort he's making.
The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.
'I'll take you someday'.
'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.
So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."
You laugh. "Older and younger?"
"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."
"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."
He agrees with you.
When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.
He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.
Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.
It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.
Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.
Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.
It makes your throat dry when he does.
Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.
You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.
It's a welcomed contrast.
When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.
"Define 'like this'."
"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."
"Is that me?"
"Sure is, Sunshine."
None of the questions that people usually ask.
It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.
He pulled them from you.
When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.
Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"
Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.
"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."
Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"
"Really," he nods.
"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."
"Yeah? You made friends already?"
"A few, yeah."
"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."
"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."
"And I believe you," you nodded.
He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"
"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.
From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"
"Sure do," you nod again.
He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"
"I'm warming up to them," you smile.
Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."
"Ew, Joel," you laugh.
His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."
When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?
"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."
"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"
Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.
"You just didn't want it?" he echos.
You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."
"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"
At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"
Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."
"You are very far from boring."
"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."
Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?
"Why me?" he asks.
It's nothing more than a breath.
You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."
This was amazing already.
Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.
He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.
The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.
"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."
Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.
You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.
Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.
Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.
He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.
"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.
What could you say to that?
"You really haven't."
Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.
"Do I get a kiss, then?"
He would never have to ask you twice.
Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.
He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.
His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.
If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.
Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.
He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.
His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.
Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.
He wants to feel your body.
The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.
He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.
It makes you want to scream.
When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.
"Joel..."
Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.
You do as he says.
His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.
To not make a mess, it says.
Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.
"Is this ok?" he asks.
He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.
He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.
"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."
That gets to you.
Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.
It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.
You were right about the torture.
He enjoys it.
Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.
You can only cling onto his hair.
I dreamt about this, too.
"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.
His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.
Joel's only starting.
He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.
He eats.
Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.
That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.
Because it's good.
Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.
At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.
He pulls back for air, once.
His fingers enter you instead, two at once.
"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.
As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.
His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.
Joel looks like he could eat you like this.
"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.
"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."
Profanities.
That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.
It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"
He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.
"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"
"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."
All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.
No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.
Your vision whites out.
The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.
What a little death.
After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.
The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.
When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.
Nothing but black briefs.
You have to drop to your knees.
Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.
To him, you want to do only your best.
You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.
"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."
With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.
Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.
He shows you what strong body means.
"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.
"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.
He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.
"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."
"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.
He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.
Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."
"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."
You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.
Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.
A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.
"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;
And who are you to say no to that?
Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.
"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.
"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.
Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.
His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.
You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.
Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.
When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.
It's criminal.
Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.
The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.
You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.
So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.
"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."
There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.
Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.
Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.
"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"
You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.
He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.
He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.
It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."
It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.
Joel takes care of you afterward.
Of course he does.
Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.
"Just for a while," you ask.
He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."
Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."
"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."
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byuntrash101 · 2 months
Text
big bad wolf
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f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut
#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡
a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3
3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
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“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.
The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.
“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”
“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.
You raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.
“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 
It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.
“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”
Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 
All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.
“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.
“Yeah I get it.”
Silence settled.
“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.
A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.
“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.
“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…
“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.
“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 
***
Well maybe you couldn’t…
That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 
“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.
He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.
The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.
“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 
Lie. Big fat lie.
Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.
“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 
“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.
“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.
Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.
Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.
He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 
“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.
He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.
“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 
“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”
Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.
He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.
“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”
You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 
“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.
“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 
He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 
“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”
As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.
“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 
“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.
He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.
“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.
Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 
Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.
“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.
“Ok” you huffed quietly.
You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 
“You… can move”
Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 
“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.
He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 
“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 
“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”
“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”
“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.
“Fuck I won’t last long baby”
“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 
Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.
“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 
“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 
You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 
“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 
“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.
“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.
“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 
“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”
It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.
“Yeah we should”
“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”
“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.
“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.
“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.
“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.
“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.
“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.
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a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3
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joelsmochi · 3 months
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honey ♡ joel miller
rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)
“Which eyeshadow should I use?”
You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”
Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.
“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.
“Uh… Yeah?”
“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”
“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.
Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”
“My dad is a dork.”
“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”
Sarah only rolled her eyes.
“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”
Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.
You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.
His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—
“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“
“Oh, really?”
You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”
“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.
“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.
She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”
You groaned softly. “Bummer.”
“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”
“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.
You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”
“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”
You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.
You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.
“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.
He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.
“Bees?”
“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”
Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”
He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”
You only shook your head.
“They’re calm if you are.”
I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.
“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”
He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.
You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.
“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.
He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”
“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”
Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”
“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.
You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.
“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“
“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.
“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”
“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”
“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”
You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.
“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”
“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”
Idiot.
“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”
He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”
You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“
“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.
“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.
“Mnh-mnh.”
“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”
“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.
Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”
His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.
“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”
“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.
He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.
“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”
He smirked at your amused expression.
“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”
He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”
Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.
“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”
It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.
Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.
WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.
You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.
Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.
“Tastes good.”
“Just good?”
“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.
He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.
“Sarah know you’re out here?”
After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”
“So we’re all alone,” he finished.
“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”
He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.
Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.
“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.
Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”
“S’normal,” he muttered.
He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.
You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.
“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”
You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.
He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.
“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”
“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.
“Hmm. Where at?”
Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”
Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.
“I get it?” His voice strained.
You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”
Your clavicle.
More honey. More licking.
“How ‘bout now?”
You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”
Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.
“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.
His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.
“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”
Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.
He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.
Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.
Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.
Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.
Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.
He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.
His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.
Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.
He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.
“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”
Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.
“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”
“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.
His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.
“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”
Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.
“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”
Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.
Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.
“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”
You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.
“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”
He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.
Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.
“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.
He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”
You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.
“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”
“I’m cu—oh!”
“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”
He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.
Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.
“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“
He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.
Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.
“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.
“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”
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phoenix-fell · 1 year
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As someone who is both an older sister and raised their younger sibling, let me tell you why this scene was so good
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It would be so easy to misinterpret Yang’s protectiveness over Blake here, but that’s not what’s happening. We’ve always seen Ruby as happy-go-lucky, follow-your-heart and do-the-right-thing, and it’s easy to forget that Yang raised Ruby, and the implied subtext there is that it *wasn’t* always sunshine and rainbows.
Yes, Yang is protective over her newfound relationship. Yes, she’ll maybe feel a little wounded that her sister is lashing out. But what we see here is Yang shifting ever so subtly into mother-mode. Yang knows this isn’t about Blake, or her and Blake’s relationship, she’s stepping in front of Blake to protect her before Ruby can say or do something she regrets. In essence, protecting both of them and trying to control the situation from escalating. Yang is stepping in front because she can take it, she’s GIVING her someone to yell at, because god knows she’s probably had to, at some point, take some lip in the past while the others have only ever known her as a strong, positive leader. She doesn’t shout at Ruby, she’s calm, lets her get it out and just looks sternly with a simple “Hey!” as in, ‘hey, that’s enough now’. 
Yang has expressed concern, and is concerned, but this is 100% Yang shifting into parent mode. This is brilliant because earlier in the episode and even last episode we’ve seen examples of Yang’s ‘concerned big sister’ side which is soft and supportive. There’s no malice in Yang’s expression, and it’s difficult to catch it because we haven’t had the best representations of ‘good mothers’ in the show, especially not ones that have had to chastise their kids at some point, but you can bet your ass that this is Yang’s parental mode stepping in to bring calm and stability to a chaotic situation. And that doesn’t always present as ‘let’s hug this out’, sometimes it’s stern, tough love and recognising that the younger one isn’t in the space to receive comfort, so the best you can do for them is diffuse the situation and be an authoritative voice of reason because she recognises her sister’s fragile mental state.
This is without going into how amazing Ruby’s portrayal was. Going after your sister’s new relationship is RAW, and personal, but it’s also what siblings do - they lash out sometimes when they’re under stress. The way Ruby says ‘we’re sOoOo happy for you by the way good for you’ - just SMACKS of younger sibling cutting loose and saying something they don’t mean, which makes Yang’s response all the more realistic for me. She recognises the tone, the almost-petulance and steps in before it can go any further.
It’s so subtle, but it SPOKE to me so massive kudos to Miles Luna and the animators for this. And god bless the clowns that use it as some sort of Anti-Bees discourse - the nuance is entirely lost on you.
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
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Mine
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever the police chief gets a little too friendly with you, you find yourself having a very strict conversation with Spencer at the hotel.
Content/Warnings: Jealous!Spencer, unprotected sex, squirting
Word Count: 1.6K
Kinktober Day Twenty Eight: Squirting
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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Spencer felt his eye twitching as he noticed the newest chief of police was all over you. There was a child abduction case in Nashville, Tennessee that the BAU had offered their resources to. It was standard, children going missing and parents getting weird texts the longer their children were kept captive. You were spending a lot of time at the precinct with him due to you being the designated member alongside JJ to interview the families and surviving child victims who were let go.
“So agent. I got a few questions on your profiling abilities.” The man stated as he was leaning against the desk he was closest to, your gaze lifting from the case file the team had been building up over the past few days. “Okay, lay them on me.” You were just being friendly, not being the best at sensing when men were hitting on you or outright flirting. It was both a blessing and a curse. “Is it true that kids in abusive homes are guaranteed to be murderers?”
The question was quick but you were faster to answer. “No! Not in all cases. Stressors and triggers from childhood can play a big part in the psychological damage of a serial killer but there are people who came from relatively good homes who have murdered others in cold blood. There’s no exact genetic makeup or reason yet, but one day I’m sure it’ll all be answered in depth.”
The rest of the day went like that. He’d ask a question and you’d happily answer, although he was essentially eyefucking you while you were too enthralled in an explanation to pay close enough attention. Hotch had eventually instructed the team to go to their hotel for the night, the team needed rest after being awake for nearly twenty four hours without so much as a break.
The SUV ride back was dead silent, mostly because of exhaustion setting in. However, you could sense tension in your boyfriend as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.
He’d been abnormally quiet at the precinct, barely even looking in your direction when you came near him. You figured it was exhaustion. Not only were you up for long hours but cases involving children were some of the most draining things you’d ever have to go through. After arriving at the hotel and everyone disbanding to get to their rooms, you were unlocking the door and getting your shoes off while Spencer quietly walked deeper into the room.
“Did you want to take a shower first, babe?” You asked, offering a smile.
It faltered though whenever your boyfriend was facing you, fury in his eyes. “Are we not gonna talk about how chief Lorn is shamelessly flirting with you? It’s like you're eating it up! I mean come on, babe. Why would you ever assume he would care about profiling related things?” His tone was steady, yet anger bubbling over the surface. You looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Flirting? Spencer, he’s asking questions. I think you’re just tired and taking your emotions out on me.”
Very good guess and probably true, however Spencer wouldn’t admit that. “No. I’m not taking out my emotions on you for no reason. You think I don’t see you batting your eyelashes or laughing at anything this guy says? You don’t know how angry it makes me to know how blind you are to these signals.” Blunt. The words had your mouth agape in shock. “I’m not flirting with the damn police chief! Jesus, Spencer.”
“I don’t believe you. You look like you are eating up all the attention. You know, I bet he wouldn’t even treat you the way I do. Do you think he’d spend every waking moment dedicating his life to you? Huh? Do you think he could love you like I do?” His footsteps were quick and his path decided to back you up against the wall. “Cause I know for sure that he can’t make you cum like I do.” His honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips tight. “Spencer!” You squeaked, your pussy clenching desperately around nothing as you could feel the heat of arousal coursing through your veins. Spencer hardly ever got jealous like this, however you liked this side of him. He was rough and could be a little mean, which really did get the job done. “Tell me I’m lying.” His eyes narrowed, hand under your chin making you stare up at him.
“I-I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I was just being friendly.” Your voice was barely above a whisper while Spencer sighed and dropped his hand from your chin. “Go get on the bed.” He murmured, already working on getting his tie off. You knew what you were in for. Spencer didn’t act like this much but you knew that special incidents would pull this rather uncharacteristic side out of him. You’d done what you were used to, already stripping yourself down as you were crawling onto the hotel bed while preparing yourself for whatever was coming.
You knew that he wasn’t going to give you the princess treatment like usual, instead Spencer was getting right to business as he was reaching in his bag to pull out a condom from the side pocket and using his teeth to tear it open. After rolling on the rubber, he was heading over to the edge of the bed to grasp your ankle, tugging your body down the mattress. His gaze was focused on your pussy, a low hum leaving his lips. “Look at how wet you are.” His fingers were teasingly running through your slick folds to collect your sweet arousal, holding a hand up to show off the glistening digits. “Now, I wonder who did that..” He playfully pondered while giving his cock a few lazy tugs.
As he was situated between your legs, Spencer was grasping his shaft and smacking it against your pussy before moving to run his tip through your folds to further tease you, your hand gently reaching for his hip. “Fuck, Spencer. Please.” You whined.
That was all he needed to hear, his large hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he readied himself, his right hand on his cock while the left squeezed your hip. As the thick tip was breaching your soaked cunt, the male was shushing your whines. “We haven’t even gotten started yet. Tonight, I’m gonna show you just how much you don’t need some idiotic police chief and learn how to appreciate what you do have.” Jealousy wasn’t something Spencer was proud of but the emotion was prominently on display and he wasn’t gonna hide it.
His hips were slamming against yours without warning, a loud gasp falling from your lips as your head was falling back against the mattress. “Fuck!” You cursed, feeling the burn of his cock stretching out your desperate and leaking pussy from being shoved deep into your warmth. “You think he’d have you acting like this? Look at how desperate you are and I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low as both hands roughly gripped your hips. Spencer was normally more of the soft and sweet side, however in these sorts of moods, he was different than anyone who really knew him could imagine.
His thrusts were relentless, your pussy sinfully squelching from each rough snap of his hips, your arousal adding a shine to his cock. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a cheap whore?” The vulgarity alone was making your stomach do flips. This was the man who was bashful with saying the word bitch, yet here he was, cursing and calling you a whore. You wouldn’t complain at all, mainly because you couldn’t.
With his onslaught of assaulting your cunt, you were letting out a series of moans, shaky whines, and pleas for him not to stop. Your skin was flushed, nails digging into your partner’s shoulders as you were in pure bliss. “Look at you. You like it when I abuse your cunt, don’t you? Want to be used like the whore you are? Fuck,” He huffed out, lips smashing against yours as he wasted no time practically shoving his tongue in your mouth while slamming his cock into your pussy, slamming into the spot where you needed him most.
The feeling of your walls constricting and spasming around his cock was like a dream. Spencer was sensitive, so he loved feeling your gummy walls and being able to have them gripping at his shaft, your desperate pussy making an attempt to suck in more of his dick even though it just wasn’t possible.
You were seeing stars, a familiar heat brewing in the pit of your stomach. However, you weren’t able to speak, only being reduced to blubbering about being close, even so the words were slurred together and still hard read. Thankfully, Spencer knew exactly what you were trying to convey, a hand coming down between your sweaty bodies as he was quick to press his finger against your clit, the pressure on the bundle of nerves causing you to whine desperately.
However what happened next was something that even snapped Spencer out of his jealous haze.
He was in the midst of roughly fucking into you whenever your legs were shaking violently, your nails dragging down his back as your body arched from the bed while hitting your orgasm. Instead of making a creamy mess of his cock, there was a gush of arousal that painted his thighs, pelvis, your thighs, and the hotel bedsheets below you. Spencer was slowly coming to a stop while staring at you with wide eyes.
“You’ve never done that before!” He squeaked, his eyes casting down at the glistening of your arousal painting his skin. You were fucked out, your eyes glossed over as you opened your mouth to speak, however a moan falling out soon after.
“No, no. We are doing that again!”
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bonesandchalamet · 9 months
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predictable - c.fisher
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masterlist
requested: y- “Can you do a conrad fisher x reader where the readers family has a house next to theirs so they grew up going to cousins for the summers (cons age), and they are in love w each other but don’t want to admit it and everyone notices it around them/teases them. maybe a flash ward to their wedding in a couple of years and everyone’s speeches are like “yeah i won the bet they would be married by now” or smth like that?“
pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader
warnings: fluff + jokes
a/n: I hope I did this justice anon! xx there are NO spoilers of book 2 or season 2!
you can hear his voice. it’s muffled, he sounds like he’s in your kitchen, a blessing of having the bedroom right above it, but you can hear him talking to your mother.
you don’t have time to think, you just fling your legs over your mattress and rush down the stairs at an appropriate pace. you’d just woke up, maybe not your best state to be in, but you couldn’t wait to see conrad fisher. the boy next door.
he’d gone to Princeton, smart cookie if you say so yourself, and you hadn’t seen him since last summer. in fact, you only saw him maybe once or twice outside of the neighborhood and that was getting ice cream and groceries. other than that, you live by the fence that separates your yards waiting to hear the laughter and conversations from the Conklin and fisher kids.
“just tomatoes? are you sure? I can go pick out some basil—“
“no, no laurel will kill you if you do any more yard work! I can get it.” you hear conrad protest. the fisher family was used to your parents generosity, the beautiful vegetable garden grew right on the fisher/y/l/n house line, the family was more than welcome to eat and take whatever they wanted, but it didn’t stop them from being kind enough to ask. Susannah raised those boys right.
“are you sure?”
“what’s going on?” you ask, it’s like the words floated out of you when you saw him. his brown hair a little longer than normal, his t-shirt a bit smaller on him, and he’s wearing small navy blue swim trunks. a sight to make any girl swoon for a fisher.
“oh, y/n, do you think you can help conrad get some more tomatoes from the vines? it seems to be the fisher-Conklin clan has run out.” your mother hands you Susannah’s woven basket that conrad was once holding. your mother looks at you with pleading eyes but she knows you’ll do anything that has conrad fisher involved.
“happy to.” you take the basket in your hand and gesture for conrad to follow. he thanks your mother once again and follows along out the back door. you can hear not only just your heartbeat, but the blood rushing to your ears.
being alone with Conrad was sometimes awkward. at least to you it always felt that way, because you never knew how to be around him as yourself. you were so deeply in love with him that just being in his presence was enough to make you fumble over your words.
“here I can get the tomatoes.” conrad pushes past you, his shoulder brushing against your body, you could smell his cologne, the salty ocean in his hair, and the mixture of the laundry detergent Susannah uses. it was an intoxicating smell, one to make your world spin.
“you sure? they are kind of all over the place.” you chuckle setting the basket down into the grass. you start picking the beautiful blush red ones and gently place them in the basket along side the ones conrad was picking. every so often your hands would brush or you’d about pick the same tomato. you both would blush and apologize instantly for the connection.
“would you guys just kiss already! you’re making me nauseous.” Jeremiah calls over the fence line from the pool, he’s watched about every embarrassing second of you and his brothers interactions.
“come on, con!” Steven hollers, it’s loud enough for the neighbors on the other side of their house to snicker at the boys energy for far too early in the morning.
“I don’t know what their problem is.” Conrad says and it’s only for you two to hear. he’s picked up the basket from the grass now, you’re stuck with holding a few more tomatoes that he claims would be more than enough for everyone.
“no seriously, just keep those ones.”
“we have enough inside, just take them—“
“fine,” he huffs out an annoyed sigh and watches you dump them into the basket, “can I at least make you breakfast with them?”
“sounds like a plan to me.”
that day, he made you more than breakfast. he made you feel the most indescribable feeling of love and excitement. he left you walking home as beat red as those tomatoes you picked. you could thank Steven and Jeremiah for their pressure and tease, because conrad fisher did in fact kiss you that morning.
FUTURE
“I’m so happy for these guys because today I became twenty dollars richer,” Jeremiah pauses, the laughter of friends and family make you both blush, “so thank you Steven for believing they would never get married. here’s to the bride and the groom!” Jeremiah holds his champagne glass up, others in the room follow.
“you really bet we would get married?” Conrad turns to his brother who passes the microphone to belly before sitting down beside him.
Jeremiah’s hands clap his brothers shoulder, “we also made a bet that you’d kiss her that summer. belly also made a bet that you’d have tomatoes on the menu, looks like you guys are the most predictable couple ever.”
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