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temiizpalace · 16 days

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Ahhh ok I love your page so far and this is my first time making an ask so I hope it’s ok. I’ve been craving a little drama for a bit and I had this idea a bit ago and I just wanted to share it :)

Cater, Leona, Riddle taking their s/o home for a Holliday/school break. Reader is sweet & respectful but isn’t afraid to put someone in their place, even royalty. A lil bit of fluff at the end would also be nice. You have creative liberty, it’s your story after all :) don’t forget to eat and drink water, and feel free to ignore this if you want <3

☆┆KNOW YOUR PLACE!

SUMMARY: your partner takes you to his hometown for the break, but you run into someone who thinks they’re a head above the rest..

CHARACTERS: RIDDLE, CATER, LEONA

GENRE: fluff

ROMANTIC

WARNINGS: people are asses

NOTES: i love this idea!! it was a lot of fun to write and i appreciate the request 🫶🫶 hopefully this was up to your standards and you enjoy!

reader is g/n, implied to be yuu

🌹┆RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“are you sure you’re okay with this..?”

riddle asks hesitantly, standing by the mirror as he fiddled with his fingers. since you had no place to go to over the break, riddle had invited you to his hometown. granted, he was quite nervous in asking you thanks to the relationship with his mother, but the excitement was immeasurable once you agreed to join him.

“of course i am.” you smile, taking his hand gently. “i understand how difficult it is for you to go back, so i want to be there with you.” riddle blushes at your words of kindness, unused to such affections (especially at NRC). he clears his throat and squeezes your hand. “i-if you insist.. we best be on our way then. mother expects us to be there by 8:30 on the dot.”

riddle leads you into the mirror, holding your hand the whole way through. as you stepped into the queendom of roses, you take in the breathtaking sights of the small village in front of you. “i live close by, have you gotten your gift prepared?” he asks, strolling past the various shops and bakeries.

you pause in your tracks, tensing up at the question. “we needed gifts..?” you ask, feeling part of your soul leave your body. riddle stares at you with a dumbfounded expression, utterly shocked at the fact you had come unprepared. he sighs, taking a deep breath. “thank goodness we’re by the shops. on any other occasion i would have your head..” he mumbles, causing you to awkwardly laugh and walk inside the store.

it was a small store selling small things, like purses. however, it’s not the expensive name brand purses that’d cost both your arms, it was cute and little cozy handmade bags that screamed home just by looking at them. you were in awe at the intricate stitches made onto the bag, not to mention impressed by such a simple design. “do you think your mother would like this?”

riddle turned to look at the bag, examining it thoroughly for any rips, tears, or stains. he smiles softly before nodding, holding it up to get another proper look. “i’m sure she’ll love it..”

as you both walk over to the line, chatting away at what you both were going to do on your visit, you had accidentally bumped into a woman covered in jewelry and what seemed to be designer clothing. you can see where this is going, right?

“ah, im sorry.” you quickly apologize. the woman gasps offendedly, looking over to where you had bumped into her. “excuse me? do you know what you just did? you had just RUINED my new designer jacket.” she exclaims, putting the fur jacket near your face. “do you know how much this had cost me? how do you expect to clean this up?”

riddle’s eyebrow twitched, staring at the supposed mark you had left. there wasn’t even a trace of such thing, she was just lying to make extra cash. “actually, i think you had bumped into them.” he answers, trying to be as calm as he physically can. “i wasn’t talking to you, little girl. buzz off.” she angrily glared at riddle before shifting her attention back to you.

as you glanced back at riddle, you could see him seething with anger. he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, not to mention his face was completely red. “ma’am, i in no way have damaged your jacket. you had bumped into me, and what you had said was uncalled for. please do not talk to us again, we are done here.”

you walk away, squeezing riddle’s hand as a way to calm down, but the woman wouldn’t give up. “how dare you defy me.. you little brats!” she grabbed onto your shoulder, trying to pull you back. instinctively, riddle drew his magic pen, but you signaled him not to use it. you push the woman off your shoulder and look at her with disgust laced in your eyes.

“don’t EVER lay your hands on me like that. do that again and i’ll be more than happy to call the authorities.” you had raised your voice, the entire shop looking at the scene. as the woman looks around, she mumbles something before leaving the store. you sigh, not expecting such ignorance from people so soon. “i’m sorry about that, riddle.”

“no, you didn’t do anything. i could’ve used my unique magic on a civilian if you hadn’t stopped me..” he murmurs the end part, but smiles at you nonetheless. “are you going to be alright?” he asks, caressing your cheek. “yeah, ill be fine. it wasn’t anything serious.” you smile back at him, feeling a ray of sun hit both of your figures in the middle of the shop.

“now cmon, let’s purchase this gift for your mother and get outta here.” you laugh, taking his hand and pulling him toward the register.

“..yeah.”

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“why’d you have to tag along..”

leona grumbles, leading you up to his room for your stay. “because i know you’d skip out on the dinner if i didn’t.” you retort, knowing damn well he appreciates your company.

“pssh.. why does that bother ya?” he murmurs as he opens the door for you like a gentlemen, despite his contradicting remarks. “no reason, i just want you to show more respect for your family is all.” you mention, walking into the large room. it was definitely bigger than his dormitory, and arguably larger than all of ramshackle. but it was nice.

“..do what you want. settle in, im takin’ a nap.” leona strides over to his bed, yawning while stretching his arms. you frown at him as he turns his back to you, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. leona lets out a surprised grunt before facing you with a scowl. “what the hell was that for-“ he starts before looking at your piercing gaze.

“you’re getting ready for dinner. now.” you demand, standing your ground. he stares at you, no longer having a snarky comment to each word you say. he clicks his tongue before grabbing a nearby outfit and changing in the bathroom. he gave up easier than expected, but at least that means less work for you. speaking of which, you decide to get ready yourself in preparation for the night.

sitting at the table, tensions were high. you expected it just to be leona’s family, but it appears to be a whole system of royals lined up inside the palace. even leona himself was shocked, but he also wasn’t one to keep up on his family events..

the dining hall was incredibly loud. sounds of laughter, bickering, and natural conversation can be heard from every corner. “told ya you shouldn’t have attended.” leona whispers, causing you to raise a brow. “it’s crowded, but i know you’re just trying to find an excuse to leave.”

he frowns before picking at the lettuce on his plate. “you should eat that.” you comment, seeing as the entire steak was gone but the salad was practically untouched (not including him picking at it). “hm? wanna eat it for me instead?” he smirks, about to push the salad onto your dish.

“no way!” you laugh keeping the plate away from him. the night continues, playful laughter exchanges between you both. suddenly, the banter comes to a stop when leona was bumped on the shoulder, and it wasn’t on accident. a snobby looking royal looks back and gives leona a disgusted look.

“my mistake, kingscholar. I didn’t realize second-sons were invited to such a grand event.” the royal chuckles, expecting a groundbreaking reaction from leona. all leona did was furrow his brow before speaking. “yeah well here i am in all my glory. now put a sock in it and get lost.”

the royal flinches, changing the subject to you. “and who might this be? a partner of yours? i had not realized you had one. i never thought you’d get one with such a nasty scar and attitude..”

leona scowls, clenching his fists before suddenly feeling your hand atop if it. “i believe you should show more manners. he may not be king, but he’s royalty just as you are. if you just came to bother him with disrespectful remarks, then i think it’s best you just leave us alone.” you state, leona’s cheeks turning a slightly darker shade.

“who are you to tell me this? you don’t look like royalty, not to mention you reek of no magic. you too attend night raven college don’t you?” he continues, causing your blood to boil. “were you too rejected from royal sword academy? how saddening it is to see.”

you want to punch him, and want to punch him bad. however, you contained yourself and decided to respond respectfully. “acting so snobbish is much more saddening. if royals like you are ruling kingdoms, then i fear its only a matter of time before it falls thanks to a poor king. how about you get your act together and show respect to your peers.” maybe it was a little less respectful than you thought.

“tch. this is not the last of me, kingscholar.” the royal gives up, walking away from the two of you. you smile, looking back at leona, who was a little flustered as you came to his rescue. “i didnt need you to defend me.” he murmurs before averting his eyes to the side. you open your mouth to speak, but get cut off as he suddenly ruffled your hair. “but you got guts.”

you knew this was his way of saying thank you. you laugh. unsure as to why, but something about his awkward ways with affection were definitely charming. “what’s so funny?” he asks, lifting his hand and raising a brow. “ahh, it’s nothing.”

♦️┆CATER DIAMOND

“i have so many things for magicam now!”

cater exclaims, laying out his new props and figures onto the table. after he insisted on you joining him to his hometown, cater took you on a date across town so you can see all the wonderful places the Shaftlands has to offer. you smiled as he already began to take pictures, not hesitating to join in. “they’re adorable, cater! i really like this figure right here.”

you picked up said figure and smiled admiringly at it. cater took in your expression, feeling entranced before snapping out of it. “welll, if you like it so much you can have it!” he exclaims, causing you to shake your head. “no, no! you bought it, it’s yours. i just thought it was nice is all.” you protested, but he wasn’t going down easily.

“well i’d do anything to make my partner happy, so if you like it, it’s yours. no take backs ☆!” he giggles, causing you to pause. “..thank you, cater.” you flash him a smile before watching him take out his phone for a quick photo. with little to no time to react, he had already snapped a photo of you with a huge grin on your face. “hm.. you’re so photogenic, yknow?”

you feel your cheeks get warm at his words, but you came to your senses once you realized you both were in public. “we should pack up the things and get ready to go.” you suggest, cater already being a step ahead of you by packing everything back into its packaging and bag.

a man walks oddly close to the table, but you had decided not to question it. suddenly, in a swift movement one of the expensive props were gone, the man dashing away. “HEY!” you shout, cater looking at you with a look of confusion. “[MC]? is someth— WOAH!” before he could finish, you sprinted towards the thief. the culprit looks back, seeing your angry and annoyed face before turning forward.

“shit..” he mutters trying to pick up the pace. cater follows behind you, feeling tired from running and carrying the bags. “S-SLOW DOWN!” he shouts, but you had one goal in mind. you charged at the mystery thief, a yelp escaping him as he hit the concrete floor. “Give it back.” you stated sternly, pinning his hands behind his back and keeping him in place.

cater catches up, running out of breath as he walked towards you. “hey, what was that about— WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the culprit struggles, trying to get up off the ground. “LET GO OF ME, FREAK! I DIDN’T DO NOTHING!” you furrowed a brow at him before grabbing the loose stolen item off the ground. “don’t lie. you tried stealing from us. i’m reporting you to police so no poor soul has to deal with you.”

cater looks at you with a puzzled expression before realizing one of his props WERE missing. “i guess i’ll call police then..?” cater awkwardly adds, pulling out his phone to dial the number.

the police eventually show up, taking in the culprit to discover this has happened more than once. he sells these stolen goods for drugs. cater looks at you, a hint of admiration and a little fear could be seen in the glint of his eyes. “hm?” you hum, noticing his staring.

“remind me not to ever steal from you.” he states, replaying the scene back in his head. “you didn’t need to tackle him, it was just one figure!” you shrug before taking his hand in yours gently. “i guess i didn’t want him stealing from you. especially since it was one of the more expensive props.”

“..you’re such an angel.” he states with a look of awe, causing you to laugh. “definitely not, but thank you.” suddenly, an arm pulls you in. your arm comes into contact with caters as he leans in and snaps a quick selfie of you two. he adds the caption before hearing your phone get a notification.

it reads: “my heroic partner ❤️❤️❤️”

you feel your heart beginning to beat faster and your stomach starting to do backflips. just cater doing the bare minimum was enough for you to feel this way. “isn’t it perfect?” he asks, chuckling as you get pulled out of the trance. “..yeah.”

“i like you being my hero.” he smiles, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before tugging your hand. “now cmon, i know this totally adorbs café on the next block and i’ve been dying to take you!”

A/N: WRITERS BLOCK ABSOLUTELY KILLED ME WITH THIS ONE, NOT TO MENTION THE EXAMS UGGGGHHHH

date published: 5/12/24

#cater diamond x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #savanaclaw #heartslabyul #fluff #twst #i forgot tags whoops

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chacolachao · 8 months

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Something I've been thinking about since The Murder of Sonic... Where did that cake come from? I know he went and got it at the end but they stopped in a location they weren't scheduled to stop at, found a cake shop, and then bought it in a few seconds? Now, that's not the part that surprises me actually... It's the fact that the cake is customized. The kicker here is that the cake is flawless, doesn't even look rushed, AND its got a (presumably edible) image of Amy on it.

So there's a couple options here:

While on the train before getting murdered he gets on that computer that was in the back and rapid fire orders a cake from a bakery that maybe might be somewhere in the middle of their two destinations. (As this train is meant for fun events I assume it runs in a circle for this story**) He sends over an image of Amy too for edible printing. Then immediately after the train crashes he races to the bakery, wherever it may be, picks it up, and comes back with it. Definitely plausible, makes sense, though I'd have to check whether or not Shadow went for the computer room before Sonic could even get a chance to. **I don't remember if there was a specific destination

This dude gets himself murdered and immediately after the train crashes and everyone gets off, he races to the nearest bakery to pick up a premade cake. Along the way or once he gets there he sends them an image of Amy to print, using his hero clout to get it printed immediately skipping the queue. (Those things take like only a minute to print so it could work.) As he's waiting for it to print he decorates the cake. Roses could already be there but I'm assuming he wrote the words on the cake. He's the only one who could manage a rush job that well and we already know his muscle control is top-notch. Judging by his canonical signature below:

That's cursive baby, probably written quickly, but also perfectly. He could totally handle writing on a cake carefully. Photo prints, put on cake, race back.

One of these is more fun than the other and I'm too sleep addled to think it through any further.

#the murder of sonic the hedgehog #sonic #theory crafting instead of sleeping #someone ask the creators for me i know they linger #ramble

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hellishjoel · 9 months

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burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind.

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control, slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town.

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness.

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day.

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot.

When in reality, it’s more like,

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again.

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now.

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it.

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal.

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it.

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war.

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over.

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body.

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right.

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes.

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing.

June 17th 2:28 P.M.

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet.

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did.

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future.

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself.

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring.

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not.

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses.

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table.

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs.

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst.

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between.

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you.

Somethin’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more.

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it.

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist.

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’.

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features.

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life.

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone.

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop.

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others.

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well.

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in.

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch.

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay.

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight.

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance.

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect.

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night.

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.”

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious.

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her.

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside.

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms.

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you.

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade.

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows.

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips.

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck.

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet.

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth. “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?”

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door.

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood.

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command.

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions.

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth.

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah.

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now.

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.”

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life.

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse.

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names. Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free.

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window.

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck. “Get back in here.”

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him.

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours.

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary.

“Much better.”

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area.

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further.

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features.

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.”

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.”

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from.

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table.

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.”

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago.

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress.

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser.

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands.

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!”

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands.

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive.

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar.

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur.

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?”

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say.

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing.

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again.

“M’happy you came back.”

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful.

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours.

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue.

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?”

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head.

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.”

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction.

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.”

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox.

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so.

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall.

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated.

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.”

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him.

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab.

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it.

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light. These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall.

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you.

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman.

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world.

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited.

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic.

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand.

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm.

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?”

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head.

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.”

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries.

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door.

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration.

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now.

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves.

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him.

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back.

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils.

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head.

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition.

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan.

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth.

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock.

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you.

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.”

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone.

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that.

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face.

Don’t lie to me.

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously.

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.”

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging.

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin.

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand.

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels.

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar.

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.”

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds.

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel.

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper.

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand.

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious.

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute.

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again.

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering.

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.”

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you.

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle.

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest.

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating.

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation.

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base.

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you.

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up.

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open.

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair.

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed.

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you.

“God- feel so good, Joel.”

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating.

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach.

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear.

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing.

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.”

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck.

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass.

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at.

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer.

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance.

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless.

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck.

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts.

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose.

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him.

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours.

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good.

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you.

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both.

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful.

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close.

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit.

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear.

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up.

“Y’sure, sweetheart?”

“Want to?”

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.”

It was hopeless after that.

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash.

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him.

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you.

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck.

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details.

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky.

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary.

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last.

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so.

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum.

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin.

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good.

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road.

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain.

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one.

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window.

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.”

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.”

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.”

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or- for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler.

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life.

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?”

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat.

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?”

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug.

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock.

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites.

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.”

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer.

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you.

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy.

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.”

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.”

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls.

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?”

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far.

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.”

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.”

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit.

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him.

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house.

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek.

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he.

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness.

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone.

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again.

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to.

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder.

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town.

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise. “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?”

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear. “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head.

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.”

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips.

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered.

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.”

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place.

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it.

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane.

You bite back a smirk and shake your head.

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up.

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway.

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was.

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it.

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window.

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?”

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving.

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans.

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides.

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin.

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze.

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.”

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm.

“Oh, shit.” You curse.

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them.

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes.

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead.

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile.

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk.

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look.

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.”

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity.

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.”

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing.

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked. “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.”

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic.

“Mhm. Sure.”

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door.

You couldn’t believe what just happened.

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt.

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult.

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through.

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar. You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn.

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas.

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel.

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?”

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over.

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags.

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out.

---

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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months

Text

Back at My Place

Wake Up, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: crazy sweet fluff, swearing, a bit of angst at the very end

a/n: I had such a fun time with this chapter. I also realized that I have a very hard time not making Matt angsty. He’s just so self deprecating, it’s easy pickings. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy! Please comment, like, reblog, and request (you’ll seriously make my day. I love hearing what you all think.)

w/c: 3.6k

A breeze blew across a patch of exposed skin on your collar bone, making you shiver yourself awake. Opening your eyes, your surroundings confused you for a minute before you remembered that you’d been at Matt’s last night. But, the last thing you recalled was sitting with him on the couch, listening to Matt as he recounted stories from his childhood. Which mostly meant giggling at the fact that Matt has apparently always had a martyr complex.

You must have dozed off because you were now wrapped in silk sheets in a bed that smelled like him. Had he carried you here? The thought of Matt picking you up and tucking you into his bed made warmth bloom in your stomach. You bit back a moan picturing his arms caring for you so lovingly. Sinking deeper into the pillow under your head, you inhaled deeply, smiling as you thought about laying there all day just breathing him in.

The sound of voices outside the closed door shook you out of your fantasy.

Pushing yourself up, you scrubbed a hand over your face before making your way out to the living room.

Foggy was having a good morning. Marci had been up before him, miraculously, and had coffee ready for him when he woke. His favorite bakery hadn’t run out of everything bagels when he got there, which was practically unheard of on a Sunday morning. And now, he was making his way over to Matt’s to get proof of life. Which was only slightly dampening his good mood.

He’d be less worried if the asshole had picked up his call this morning. Foggy and Marci had tried to get ahold of him, to see if you and Matt were alright after the gala, but he didn’t answer. Marci had called you a few times with similar success. So, Foggy had volunteered to go in person.

Knocking less than politely on Matt’s door, Foggy nearly fell into the other man as the door flew open.

“Fuck, Foggy, it’s not even 9. You want to wake the whole floor up?”

“Thank the Lord, Saint Matthew lives another day. If you don’t want me breaking down your door this early, answer your fucking phone next time.” Foggy plastered on a smile, voice laced with false positivity. Barging past his friend into the apartment, he spun around, arms wide.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive, my friend. I was having a nice morning and finding you half-dead in your Devil gear really would’ve ruined that.”

“Foggy—“ Matt’s voice was low in warning, but Foggy ignored him.

“Anyway, what happened last night? You never let us know if you two were ok.”

“We’re fine. Snyder was being a bitch and it sent my fake girlfriend into a panic attack. Now, I’m sure you have a wonderful day with Marci to get back to and I have to get dressed for church.”

“HA! You think you can bullshit me, Murdock. Only a freshman in Matt-ology would believe that you attend regular Sunday mass. You prefer to go at night and speak directly to the clergy. What are you hiding in here?” Foggy set down his bagel, peering around corners as if expecting there to be a surprise hidden.

“I’m not hiding anything, I just wasn’t expecting you.” Matt’s voice was hushed as he tried to herd Foggy out the door.

“Am I not allowed to drop by anymore? What is going on with you?”

Before Matt could respond, his bedroom door opened to reveal your startled face, which sat above an outfit picked entirely from Matt’s wardrobe, Foggy noticed.

A shit-eating grin broke out over Foggy’s face as he said your name. “Funny seeing you here.”

You grimaced, “Hi, Foggy.”

Matt made his way over to you. “Did we wake you up? I was trying to tell Foggy to be quiet.”

“No, no!” You jumped in reassuringly. “I was already awake. And I’m—I’m sorry for falling asleep last night, I didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure you were tired.” Matt ran a hand over your arm before pulling you into a hug. Clearly, they had forgotten that there was a captive audience.

Foggy cleared his throat. “So…you slept here?”

The two of you jumped apart. Matt stepped in front of you, “It’s not like that, Fog. I gave her my bed and slept on the couch.”

“Hey, don’t need to explain anything to me. Anyway, glad to know you’re both alive. I, um, have a…thing.” Hurrying out of the apartment, Foggy rushed home to Marci. Their plot to unite two of their favorite people was actually coming together, despite the wrench Matt had thrown into the plans by nominating you as his fake partner.

About a month after the gala, Foggy was seriously wondering if he’d been left out of the loop on Matt’s relationship status. You and Matt were hanging out more than ever and yet didn’t admit that you weren’t pretend-dating anymore. He supposed he would need to see evidence a bit more damning than Matt comforting a friend after a tough night or spending more time with them one-on-one, but he had his suspicions.

Sitting in his apartment, mulling through paperwork as quickly as he could, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the events of that morning.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Matt had been tucked away in his office when he arrived. Foggy didn’t plan on staying for long, since he had intended to work from home that day, but he needed to grab some files that were relevant to the case he was working on.

Eventually, Foggy heard a door open, and—assuming that Matt was leaving his office to finally greet him—he ran out into the central room.

“Hey, Matt, I know I said I wouldn’t be in today, I just needed to grab the Anderson files.” Foggy spoke as he walked out of his own office. But, as he looked up, he realized that Matt was still in the other room. Instead, you stood before him, holding a brown paper bag and looking like he’d caught you breaking and entering.

“Hey Foggy! I didn’t expect you to be here. Is Matt in…” you trailed off with a vague gesture. As you pointed to Matt’s office, his door opened, revealing the blind lawyer who faced you curiously.

“Hey, I thought I heard you. What are you doing here?” Ignoring Foggy completely—the blond looking after him incredulously—he marched over to you, a crooked grin on his lips.

“Well, I…um—“ You stuttered, very much unable to ignore Foggy at this moment. “Remember that bakery I told you about? The one that just opened up by the Pilates studio?”

Matt nodded and you continued. “I told you that I thought you’d like their almond croissants and, I don’t know, you mentioned that you had a bad night so I thought I’d bring you one to cheer you up.” You scuffed your shoes on the floor, no longer looking at Matt.

“That’s so sweet of you.” Matt spoke, smiling at you softly. He was a bit shocked, but more than touched by the gesture.

“And I’m really sorry, Foggy! I would’ve gotten you one but, when we chatted last night, Matt mentioned you wouldn’t be in today so I—“

“Hey, no problem! I have to run home anyway. Have a good day, my little lovebirds!” Foggy brushed off your concern. You squeaked, embarrassed at his comment. Foggy waved goodbye, and headed off, hearing Matt ask you if you wanted to split the pastry as he went.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shaking his head at the memory, Foggy really hoped you two would come to your senses soon.

A couple weeks after the croissant incident, Foggy found himself in desperate need of a break.

“Matt, hurry up! Karen and I are thirsty!” Foggy rolled his eyes to the blonde as they waited for Matt to quit burning the midnight oil and go out with them. It was Friday, and they had just had a major breakthrough in their current case that had seemed unwinnable for weeks.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming.” Matt shook his head fondly at his partners, grabbing his coat and cane.

“Josie’s?” Karen questioned.

Foggy snorted. “Do we ever go anywhere else?” He sent a text to you and Marci, letting you both know that you were invited to celebrate with them, though he did not expect Marci to take him up on that offer.

“Why would we?” Matt grinned, taking Foggy’s arm as the three made their way to the dive bar they frequented.

Arriving at Josie’s in record time, Karen offered to buy the first round while the guys grabbed a table.

Foggy inhaled deeply. “Smell that, Murdock?”

“Stale beer and vomit?”

“No! The smell of our impending success!”

“It doesn’t trouble you that your brain associates our success with vomit?”

“Gah! You’re impossible!” Foggy threw his hands up as Matt smirked.

“What did he do now?” Foggy cheered as he saw you approaching them.

“You’ve gotta help me out. Your boyfriend is refusing to admit that we are going to win our case this week.” Foggy mock glared at Matt.

You sat down next to Matt, laughing brightly as he began to argue. “I never said that! I said, it’s weird that you link our winning a case with such an unpleasant sensation.”

“Oh god, we just got here and they’re already going at it.” Karen murmured to you as she returned with drinks, chuckling with fond exasperation. She handed you a beer and you accepted gratefully as you slid under the arm Matt moved around your shoulders. As you nestled into his side, he and Foggy continued to bicker about what winning should smell like.

Eventually, Karen broke in and offered them their beers. Mostly for a moment of quiet, you assumed. Taking a drink, Matt turned to you. “How was your day, angel?” Karen and Foggy looked at each other, ‘Angel??’

“It was awesome, actually! My boss approved my proposal!” You sounded thrilled.

“That’s fantastic!” Matt was beaming at you. “Did you get to show her the mock ups?”

“I’m sorry,” Foggy cut in with a smile. “What proposal?”

“Shit, I forgot I hadn’t told you and Karen! I’m sorry guys.” You grimaced sheepishly. “I had been noticing some recurring names when I sat in court this month so I did some digging and found 4 property managers that have dozens of documented issues. I’m talking constructive eviction, unhabitable units, actions in contempt, a whole mess of stuff. So I wanted to ask my boss if we could set up some clinics in the area for hearing counterclaim filing and to help people file a case against their landlord preemptively.”

Matt’s focus was entirely on you as you spoke animatedly, absolutely ecstatic about your new project.

“I had a solid framework but I was having a really hard time working up the nerve to ask her if I could do anything. Thankfully, Matt had some great ideas and helped me put together a whole presentation at dinner last week!” You grinned, looking up at him.

“What dinner last week?” Karen inquired, her eyes flirting between the two of you as she barely concealed her knowing grin.

“Oh!” You shifted in your seat slightly. “Well, we’ve been having dinner once or twice a week to—um—“

“Get to know each other!” Matt suggested, helpfully.

“Exactly! In case we have another event and have to speak to people about each other, or whatever.”

“Right,” Foggy confirmed, eyebrows raised. “Well, I’m glad that it went well! And, that you’ve been getting this workaholic out of the office. I was wondering why he’s been so chipper lately.”

“Oh, I’m sure that has more to do with this ‘impending success’ I keep hearing about.” You bit your lip, fidgeting with the half empty glass in your hand.

“It’s not all work-related, sweetness.” Matt nudged you, grinning.

You smiled into your beer, draining the rest of it. “Sure, Murdock. Though, I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder to sweet talk me into buying you another drink.”

“Hmm, guess I’ll keep trying.” Matt followed you out of the booth, taking your arm as you both walked up to ask Josie for a refill.

Karen gaped at Foggy. “You weren’t kidding!”

“I know!” Foggy said, throwing his arms towards the bar after their friends. “They don’t see it!”

Karen snorted. “We are in for a world of hurt.”

After the group had chatted for a bit, Foggy suggested that you and Matt play him and Karen in pool, to “settle the smell of success debate once and for all”. Everyone seemed excited about the proposition, but you hesitated.

“I’ve never actually played pool before.” You admitted to Matt, quietly, as Karen and Foggy got the table set up.

“That’s alright, pretty girl. I’ll just have to teach you.” He flicked your chin softly before raising his voice. “I promise it’s not that difficult to beat Foggy. I could do it with my eyes closed.” He jested, making you laugh.

“How dare you insult my honor in front of this fair maiden!” Foggy crowed, feigning chest pain. “I’m hurt, truly hurt!”

You giggled at their antics, sliding out from the booth and pulling Matt with you. “Better teach me fast, Matty. I have a feeling Nelson won’t be taking it easy on me.”

While Foggy and Karen were having a good time battling you two in pool, it was becoming almost irritating to watch the two of you flirt and exchange soft touches without acknowledging the authenticity of your relationship. Matt kept holding your waist to help you position the pool cue, giving you a kiss on the cheek when any of the balls landed in a pocket. And, as the two of you became more tipsy throughout the evening, you started sitting atop of Matt’s lap, playing with his hair and resting your nose against his cheek, while waiting for Foggy or Karen to finish a turn.

It was adorable, sure, but aggravating nonetheless because anytime someone questioned it, you and Matt brushed it off as ‘keeping up appearances’.

As you lined up your cue to take the final shot, Matt announced your intentions for you. “8 ball, far right corner pocket.” Giving the cue ball a firm tap, the 8 ball sailed into its intended receptacle.

You and Matt cheered as Foggy and Karen yelled in frustration. As you gave him a hug, Matt twirled you around.

“Great job, angel. I’m so proud of you!” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. You leaned into him, treasuring the moment.

Foggy and Karen just shared a look, shaking their heads, before Foggy asked “Anyone up for a rematch?”

Foggy, Karen, and Matt were tiredly running over their case notes for the upcoming Jones trial. Their last few cases had all gone well, but this case was incredibly taxing. They were having a hard time getting their two key witnesses to cooperate, and the judge had denied their request for a continuance which squished the timeline in a less than optimal direction.

Sighing, Foggy rubbed at his eyes. “Is there anyway we could get the sister on the stand? She was so much easier to work with.”

“There’s no way we’d be able to prepare her in time.” Matt grumped, tension headache steadily brewing.

Karen closed her laptop with a frustrated sigh. “Alright gentlemen, I don’t know about you but I will be absolutely useless if I keep working at this without food. Dinner?”

“Yah let’s go grab a pizza and give our poor minds a break.” Foggy rubbed Matt’s shoulder, hoping the idea of food would be enough to tempt him away from his computer.

“You two go ahead, I’ll see if I can find a weakness in the opposing argument here.”

“Matt, c’mon—“ Foggy pleaded.

“It’s fine. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, I can feel it…” Matt turned back to his computer, putting headphones in his ears before hearing his friends’ responses.

Foggy simply gave Karen an exaggerated eye roll before the two headed out to grab dinner.

The pizza place wasn’t too far from their office, so they fully expected Matt to be honed in on his case notes when they returned, but instead he was leaning against the table in the conference room. His phone held against his ear, Matt had a small grin on his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. It must have been you. No one else could break Matt’s intense focus so easily.

Foggy and Karen were as quiet as possible as they brought the food into the conference room. Matt’s grin fell a bit as they entered.

“Ok sweetness, Nelson and Page are back with food so I have to go. Call me when you get home safe tonight…yah I know you will. Love you.” Matt ended the call, placing his phone on the table.

“I found a clerical error in the original filing of the case. Should help us at least weaken the validity of the prosecution's claims.” It was dead silent for a moment before Matt prompted “Are we going to eat or have we taken those pizzas hostage?”

Foggy pried his jaw from the floor, looking to Karen who appeared equally shocked. “No, uh, we can eat. Yah, let’s eat.” Foggy set the boxes down as Karen rummaged around for some plates. She gave him a pointed look, her eyes swiveling between him and Matt.

Internally debating whether to ask Matt about the terminology used at the end of his phone call, Foggy opened his mouth but Matt held up a hand. “Before you even start, she was out with friends at a bar. We both agreed to act like a couple when in public and she explicitly told me she was ok with it.” The blind man turned to his work with a barely noticeable glower, clearly exasperated by his friends’ questioning.

“See, buddy, that’s cool and all, but you do see how this looks right?” Foggy nervously took a bite of pizza, eyeing the other man.

“What, like I’m forcing her to say things she’s uncomfortable with? That I’m holding her back from finding someone she actually wants to be with? Yes, Foggy, I’m aware.” Matt’s scowl deepened. “I beat myself up about it constantly. I really don’t need you both breathing down my neck about it too.”

“Wait, Matt, you think that’s what we’ve been talking about?” Karen prompted, clearly as taken aback as Foggy felt. She placed a hand on Matt’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “We’re not worried that you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“And we certainly aren’t worried that you’re holding her back!” Foggy added. “Why on earth would you think we were worried about that?”

“Clearly you are! That morning after the gala when you rushed out after seeing she was still there, you were biting your tongue the whole time, Fog!” Matt ran his hands through his hair in distress. “It’s like everytime one of you sees us together, you’re always pointing out the illegitimacy of our relationship or calling us a name. Not to mention, the night at Josie’s where you and Karen were frustratedly saying I was causing a ‘world of hurt’?” Fully pacing now, Foggy had to stand to stop the other man from wearing a tread in their carpet.

“Matt, that’s not what we’ve been trying to say.” Foggy broke in, slowly.

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched. “Really, because everytime she gets nervous around me, we suddenly end up alone. If you couldn’t bear to watch what I was doing, you at least could’ve told me that you thought I was hurting her if it was so hard to watch.” He turned away, biting his bottom lip in irritation.

“What we meant when we said those things,” Karen jumped in, also coming to stand in front of Matt. “Was that it seems like the two of you aren’t fake dating anymore. It seems like you’re actually dating and you don’t realize it. And, you aren’t making her uncomfortable, Matt. She adores you.”

Matt’s nostrils flared as conflicting emotions danced across his face. “Matt, buddy, all this time you’ve been chastising yourself for holding her back? Have you stopped to consider that she might enjoy being with you?” Foggy reached out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, but the other man pulled out of his grasp, pacing again.

“Enjoy being with me? That’s fucking rich.” He bit out. “She’s so smart and funny and thoughtful and—“ his voice was breaking now. “All I’ve done since I brought her into this was get her hurt. She’s way too good to be stuck with me.”

Snatching his red glasses, cane, and computer, Matt huffed before throwing a few sheets of paper down on the table. “Here’s the court's error for the Jones case. I need some air. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Matt stomped out the door, Foggy and Karen guiltily watching him go.

“Ok, we may have done some damage here.” Foggy grimaced.

“How did we not realize that their own doubts are shaping their interpretation of this?” Karen groaned.

“It’s an embarrassing oversight, I’ll admit.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, Foggy turned to her. “The question is now, do we go after him?”

“No. He needs to work it out on his own.” Karen stared back at her friend glumly.

“Ugh. You’re probably right.”

End Notes: A huge thanks to @acewritesfics and @samspenandsword for sharing the beautiful post dividers!

Tag List: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #human disaster matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #marvel's daredevil #mcu daredevil #daredevil fic #charlie cox #foggy nelson #karen page #my writing #mm #wake up

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xas24 · 9 months

Note

hi babe, it’s my 18th birthday and i was wondering if u could write one for me.. where reader wakes up with gavi and it’s just altogether a beautiful, special morning

i love your writing, thanks a lot✨🫶🏼🩷

birthday mornings ~ pablo gavi

summary: a loving birthday morning spent with gavi.

this is for the beautiful anon who requested this! happy happy birthdayy! i hope you like this and have a great, fun day 🫶🏼

it is also my 18th birthday today so cheers to us 🥂🥳✨

the warm sun that was peaking through the curtains, splashing itself all around the room, wasn’t nearly as warm as the soft lips pressing against y/ns cheek. her eyes crinkled as she slowly woke up from her slumber.

they landed on her boyfriend, his smiley face so close to hers as he leaned up a little from his incessant pecking. the grin on his face practically reached his ears, and y/n felt one falling on her own lips from how contagious it was.

“hola.” pablos breath fanned across her face as he whispered his little greeting. his arms encased her in place and he reached forward to press a few more kisses to her blushing cheek.

“hola, querido.” (darling) a breathy giggle left her lips when she felt his mouth swiftly trail down her jaw.

“feliz cumpleaños mi amor.” (happy birthday, my love) his voice spoke into her neck. y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart bursting at his affectionate mood this morning.

“gracias, bebé.” she pressed her own kiss against his neck before he sat up a little and that’s when her eyes landed on his clothes. he was fully dressed as if he had just came back from somewhere.

when gavi noticed her eyes wandering on his appearance, he turned around a little to pick up the little things he had placed on the floor. y/n slightly sat up in bed and when he turned back around, her eyes landed on a gorgeous bouquet of her favourite flowers.

y/ns heart burst with warmth and the smile that was already present on her lips widened a bit more, if that was even possible.

“pablo..” she took the huge bouquet from his hands and took in every inch of the ethereal packaging and perfectly shaped flowers.

“y…” he dragged out as he turned back around to pick up the bag and box from behind him. “aquí.” (andddd… here)

y/n could feel her eyes watering at all of this endearment. the way his eyes anxiously scanned her face for any sign of disappointment or disapproval made her heart bubble with a burning amount of devotion. he just wanted her to be happy.

she felt herself falling even more in love with him.

he held a little chanel gift bag in his hand and a box of her favourite pastries in the other. she knew that the bakery she loved was on the other side of barcelona and the fact that he drove all the way over there just for her made the tears prick against her eyelashes.

y/n didn’t grab any of the gifts but only reached forward and threw her arms around pablos neck. she heard him chuckle slightly and tighten his own arms around her body, pulling her closer to his own.

his lips landed on her shoulder and he kissed the tender skin softly. y/n could feel a few tears running down her cheek and she knew that this all shouldn’t have made her this emotional, but she couldn’t help it - not with how adorable and hopeful pablo was looking. she didn’t deserve him at all.

he held nothing but love in his eyes and heart for the girl in his arms. he would go miles for her without her even asking him to, only the desire to make her happy clouding his mind.

pablo kissed y/ns shoulder whilst pulling away and his fingers came up to her cheeks to wipe away the few deserted tears left on her skin. she was chuckling, trying to blink away any more tears from falling but she couldn’t help it. pablo wiped them away whilst laughing along with her.

he cupped her face, gently stroking his thumb against the heated flesh to bring her some comfort.

he reassured her that there were more little surprises to come and shrugged off all of her protests. defeated, she pulled him into bed with her, placing all of her little gifts onto the floor next to the bed.

pablo happily obliged, wanting to spend all the time he can with his birthday girl. he pulled her closer to himself and y/n looked up at him once more.

she thanked him once again, for the gifts, for all the love, for always treating her right, for always thinking of her, for never failing to make her laugh or smile, for driving all the way across the city which she will be scolding him for later.

and overall, for being her best friend in the whole world. her person.

right there, staring into his eyes and holding onto his cold hands, she knew she didn’t deserve his sweet self but was forever thankful that he was all hers to love and cherish.

this would definetely be a birthday to remember, one spent with no one but her lover.

#barça #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #imagine #pablo gavi

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sashaisready · 6 months

Text

Chapter Seventeen - We’re going on a little ride

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 18

Series Masterlist

You saw the engine start up to leave and you broke into a sprint as you shot across the street before they could pull away (but made sure to check for traffic this time).

You whipped yourself in front of it, banging on the hood and yelling at the tinted windshield.

“Hey!! Hey! Come out right NOW” you practically screamed. “Get your chicken shit asses out here and talk to me”.

You knew you shouldn’t speak to the terrifying mob goons like that but any worries you had were drowned by your anger, and fear for Peter’s safety. Besides, you knew most of them by now.

The door zipped open and you were surprised to see Bucky of all people step out, flanked by Steve.

He watched you carefully as he emerged. He was in one of his suits but the jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His vibranium arm glinted under the light of the street lamp.

“Don’t hit the car like that, Doll. The paintwork is very delicate”.

“Doing your own dirty work for a change, huh?” you spat.

Bucky chuckled as he stepped towards you. “You have a good night, Doll?” he asked, condescension dripping from him.

“Don’t fucking touch him” you spat as you pointed a warning finger at him and then to Steve. “He’s a good man. Don’t drag him into this”.

Bucky shrugged casually, shaking his head as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

“We wouldn’t hurt Mr. Quill, would we Steve?” Bucky said dubiously.

“Of course. Not our good friend, Peter” Steve replied in a monotone.

Your stomach lurched. Of course they had his full name. They probably already had his driving license and tax records on file.

“Bucky, please…” you pleaded.

He watched you attentively as you took a step towards him.

“We both just agreed to be just friends as neither of us felt a connection. Don’t hurt him. There’s nothing there” you explained calmly, trying to sound tougher than you felt.

Bucky smiled thinly. “I’m not a monster, Doll. I don’t just go around hurting people, despite what you may think. But I have to say, this is quite an impassioned defence of someone you’re ‘just friends’ with” he said sardonically, using finger quotes for your words.

Your panic gives way to anger again, his smug smirk a catalyst for your rage. The wine in your bloodstream certainly not helping your rational brain or negotiation skills in the moment.

“Well he is just my friend, alright? Not that I need to justify myself to you of all people...I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. I don’t know what sort of fucked up show you’re running here. I certainly can’t seem to get away from it, but I’ll be damned if I stand by and let innocent people get caught up in it too” you shout, practically spitting with rage.

Bucky sighs. “Doll…”

You raise a hand to silence him.

“No. You wanted to talk? Let’s talk. Steve, you can listen too if you want as James can’t seem to go ten feet without his guard dog. The fact is, I have no idea what your game is. I liked you a lot. Alright? I used to enjoy our little back and forth. Whatever it was. It was fun. And then we fucked and you treated me like a leper, cancelling our date and parading ANOTHER WOMAN in front of me days later at my own fucking workplace. Laughing at me. Watching me get upset and revelling in it. And then you send me eight million balloons and have your goons follow me. And I nearly get hit by a car trying to chase them off. And I meet a new guy. A nice guy who actually liked me who doesn’t treat me like a toy, or a cat playing with a mouse. And I can’t even enjoy that because I’m followed everywhere I go. And I tell you to leave me alone but you ignore me, just dig up information on my date and wait for me outside my house and have the gall to smirk at me like I’m crazy…”

You find yourself short of breath, the venom of your monologue catching you off guard. Your blood turns to ice as the reality of what you’ve said hits you, nervous he’ll lose it at you.

Bucky just stares back at you, unreadable as always. You briefly wonder if you’ve finally pushed him too far and you’re going to end up buried in the cement under a new apartment complex. Your stare snaps to Steve who also just returns your gaze, equally impenetrable. Bucky’s eyes briefly betray a slither of hurt too, and even though everything you’ve said is justified you can’t help but almost feel a pang of longing for him.

Bucky looks you up and down, your words ringing in his ears as guilt begins to overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry” he says forlornly.

You and Steve exchange a look of surprise. Neither of you saw that coming.

“I know I treated you badly after our night together, Doll. It was stupid. I lost my head a bit, thinking you weren’t into me. So I played a game, I thought it was going to be an extension of our banter and I misjudged it. And then I was too stubborn to apologise”.

He sounds quiet and subdued, a far cry from his usual self.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. “Oh…well. Thank-you. I appreciate that” you reply softly.

He approaches you and his hand glides into your hair, his fingers stroking the side of your head as he gazes at you. You find yourself letting him touch you, moving closer to him, entranced by his sea blue eyes as he continues.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I genuinely didn’t mean to. I feel crazy around you, if I’m honest. Like I can’t keep my shit together. And it just feels like every time I try and fix it I just make it worse”.

You soften as you stroke his metal hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Your faces are so close together that you can make out every mole and freckle on his cheek.

“All you had to do was say that” you tell him softly.

Steve takes that cue to disappear back into the car, giving you both some privacy.

Bucky smiles, his flesh hand moving to your chin and caressing it softly.

“I think about our night all the time” he admits.

“Me too...” you admit, your eyes glazed with lust.

“I know I’ve got a lot of making up to do” he tells you, and you smile back at him.

“You really do” you smirk.

His lips crash into yours and you’re momentarily breathless as you allow yourself to be lost in the kiss. Every sensation from the last time comes flooding back as his tongue slips into your mouth and your fingers find their way into his hair. It’s so good. It’s perfect. It’s everything you want.

He pulls away briefly and rests his forehead against yours.

“Quill will be fine” he whispers. “He’s just going to get roughed up a tiny bit. Just to send a message. But he’ll be alright” he says soothingly.

You gasp, unable to comprehend his casual tone with the horror of what he's saying as you place your hands on his chest and shove him firmly away from you.

“What? Why?? He didn’t do anything!” You splutter furiously.

“I just need to be sure he understands that you’re just ‘friends’” he replies calmly. “And that my men see that he’s been dealt with. They know who you are to me. They can’t work for me with respect knowing I let another man take you out”.

You scoff, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of what he’s telling you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you practically scream at him. “I’m not like your fucking car that he scratched. We aren’t even together” you sneer, waving your fingers between the two of you.

Bucky shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Messages need to be sent” he said coolly as his hands moved down to your hips. “Like I said, we’ll go easy on him, you don’t have to worry”.

You gasp in horror as you shake yourself away from his grip. Suddenly all of your rage and upset comes flooding back, the kiss long forgotten.

Every instinct tells you to flee. To get the hell out of there, away from this monster - away from the man who talks about beating people so casually that you’d think he was reciting a lunch order.

But you think of Peter. And he’s the most important person to think about right now so you can’t run. You couldn’t live with yourself if he got hurt. You need to make sure he’s safe. And to do that you need to speak Bucky’s language.

“Listen” you tell him firmly, your eyes blazing. “If anything happens to Peter. Anything at all. I will never speak to or acknowledge you again. And I mean that. I will quit the bakery and move my ass to a different state just to get away from you. You understand me?” you warn him. "Maybe even leave the east coast altogether".

He blinks at you, surprised by your outburst. You take his silence as your cue to continue.

“And I will spend the rest of my days trying to bringing your down. Police. Feds. Anyone. I mean it. I’ll just keep going until I find someone not in your pocket. You hear me?”

Your mouth is dry and you’re trembling but you’ve said it now. You just hope it’s enough, that it sticks.

After a beat of silence which seems to stretch on forever, he replies.

“You done?” Bucky questions, deadpan.

“Almost. Keep the fuck away from me, you fuckin’ sociopath” you snarl.

Bucky laughs. “Always the fiery one, aren’t you Doll? Alright. I won’t touch Quill. I promise. Scout’s honour. And I’ll leave you alone like you want. That’s no problem”.

You nod, surprised he acquiesced and expecting more of a fight.

He takes a step towards you and suddenly his eyes seem darker. You step away from him instinctively.

“But Doll, trust me when I say this…” he says with a quiet intensity which chills you. “If I ever hear that you’re going to the police about me...or the feds...I won’t be half as agreeable as I am right now”.

He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together in his metal hand as you feel your legs nearly give way from under you. His grip isn’t hard, but you feel the impact of his threat. He places a small kiss on your lips before releasing you and heading back to the car.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work, Doll” he grins darkly.

The door slams and the car pulls away a second later. You’re left standing alone in the road, distant noises of the city gradually filling your ears as you catch your breath. You briefly fall to your knees, rubbing your fingers across the tarmac of the road in an attempt to ground yourself.

You finally stand again, exhaling. Peter is safe. You are safe. It will all be alright. You can make a new start. He won’t be bothering you now. You’ll be okay.

As you stumble towards your apartment you’re so worked up that you don’t even notice the scurrying footsteps emerging from behind you. Seconds later it all goes dark and you realise to your horror that someone has put a bag or a sack or something made of material over your head. The fibres scratch uncomfortably against your skin.

You try to scream but a firm hand clamps over your mouth and you find yourself pushed along by strong arms. You hear a car door opening as hushed voices chatter. You’re thrown inside a vehicle, crashing against the floor of either a van or a truck as you hear the echo of the engine rumbling beneath you. You try to scramble up onto your knees but someone grabs your hands, a zip tie is sealed around your wrists and suddenly you’re helpless. You desperately try to vault yourself up onto your knees again but a gruff voice you don’t recognise speaks and you stop in your tracks.

“Just stay right there, princess” the stranger tells you. “We’re going on a little ride. And you’re gonna wanna sit tight for it”.

You go to protest but feel something hard and metal pushes into the small of your back. Despite never feeling one before, you know immediately that it’s the barrel of a gun.

Finally you stay still as you feel your fear build, laying on the floor of the vehicle, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

Bucky’s head is in his hands as Steve drives them back to the house.

“Just had to double down on Quill, huh?” Steve asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Steve..” Bucky warns.

“Had her in the palm of your hand...after all this time and all that scheming…and you threw it away because you couldn’t resist a beating…”

“Steve…I swear to God…”

“Jussayin’. How can you literally be kissing her one moment and have her threatening to rat you out to the feds on you the next? That’s impressive”.

Bucky ignores Steve and sighs. He’s angry at you, fuming even – especially at your threat to rat him out. Not that you know a lot anyway, he has purposefully kept his world separate from you – but still, you’d been inside his home, you know nearly all of his men by name or at least by face. He was sure you still had at least some of the cash he’d given you, and it was possible a couple of the serial numbers could be linked to a job or two…

You didn’t have enough to take him down, not with his ironclad business fronts and hotshot lawyers – but you potentially had enough to make his life more difficult than he’d like.

But he knew Steve was right. He was so close to winning you round, and he blew it. He saw red when he’d seen you kissing Quill, lost his head for a second. This was how he dealt with things, it’s what he knew. Even if you and Quill had agreed to just be friends like you said, it had sent a barrel of rage through him that someone else had touched you. Had felt your lips against theirs.

Even though he knew it was all his own fault.

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

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eternalsa2z · 7 months

Text

Cookie Cutthroat

"So try my hot, tasty delicacies here at Cookie's Bakery. We're always 'Bringing Individuals To Cookie Heaven'...Yum!"

"CUT! THAT'S A WRAP!" the director yelled as the cameras stopped rolling for the final time that day. Cookie set down her tray with a sigh. Acting was exhausting. But customers seemed to eat up her warm, motherly attitude on TV and the commercials helped make Cookie's Bakery one of the most popular brands around.

The brunette baker slowly took off her hot pads and untied her apron. As she began to walk off gracefully in her white flats set she felt a small shiver run through her body. The pills she took before the shoot must be wearing off. The sensation distracted her slightly as a crew member bumped into her path trying to break down the set.

"Oh I'm sorry Ms. Cookie!" the gofer stammered quickly, seeing an unusual scowl sweet across the woman's gentle face.

"No worries dearie..." the businesswoman smiled sweetly back. Although a hint of annoyance remained on her face. "Just don't let it happen again..."

A phone alert interrupted their exchange, allowing the assistant to scurry away unscathed. Cookie reached into the sewed-on pocket of her floral dress, pulling out a bejeweled phone. She began texting rapidly, increasingly long red nails clacking away rapidly in time with the sharp clicking of her high heels.

People in her path began to part, staring at her with wonder. Despite having just finished shooting a commercial with her, she seemed different. Her prim dark hair was now longer, wavier, with a hint of highlights. The dress, no longer covered by an apron, seemed to hug to curves that were a contrast to the matron image she had projected. In fact her pleasant face was different, now plastered with more makeup and plump lips suited for a high end model.

"What?" she snapped as she stopped suddenly, noticing the stares. "I'm not signing autographs so get lost!"

Quickly the studio peons looked away and continued their mundane tasks. A smug little grin curled on Cookie's lips as another shiver of pleasure coursed through her body. She loved being the center of attention but it was even more fun to assert her authority. She was a powerful boss bitch, after all.

Her satisfaction momentarily waned as she saw one more figure standing in her sight. It was her bakery's Business Intelligence Manager, Ethan, a short stumpy figure in comparison to Cookie's lithe, modelesque figure. Especially as her appearance was becoming more striking by the second. Her sweet medicine was finally being purged from her system and similarly her tolerance for any imperfections was ebbing away.

The bakery queen didn't understand why her No. 2 didn't put more effort into his appearance. Cookie had often contemplated firing him just so she wouldn't be associated with his drab appearance. Lucky for him he was almost as smart as Cookie so she humored him by keeping him around.

"Coat first. Then report," she snapped her fingers as she snatched the luxurious fur trim coat her CFO was carrying like a common attendant. "Walk with me...or rather behind me. Can't make it seem like we're equals."

"Of course, ma'am," Ethan replied quickly as he opened a notebook. He knew better than to question her as her pleasant TV production persona was slowly slipping away.

"I have two things to bring to your attention," he said, eyes cast downwards to read his notes. "First, an investigative reporter is looking into our 'secret ingredient'. Any comment you want to provide?"

"Tell them it's just 'extra love and handmade dough'," Cookie chuckled, tossing her partially blonde ponytail over her shoulder dismissively. "If they don't eat that up, offer them a taste. We could use a new model raving about our product."

"Very good, Ms. Cookie," Ethan nodded, scribbling notes furiously in a vain attempt to focus on something other than his boss' heart shaped ass wiggling in her tight designer pants. "Item two is also about our secret ingredient. Our supplier in the UK is being sticky about price due to the recent strikes. How do you want to handle it?"

"Fucking unions. Little pissants thinking they can measure up to a titantic titan like myself," Cookie scoffed. "I have half a mind to crush them myself beneath my heels. But honestly it's not worth my fucking time. I'll just call up Ms. Hyde directly and ask for an advance on our supply. She knows I'm good for it and will make her double what I pay."

"Are you sure that's wise, ma'am? Sideswiping the supplier may gain negative attention and impact our positive image..."

Ethan gulped as his boss turned to face him. Even with large sunglasses covering most her face, the angry pout of her plump lips and the way her talons were clenching her expensive handbag told him he had made a mistake. You don't question Ms. Cookie.

To the subordinates surprise, Cookie didn't fire him on the spot. Or even cuss him out so commandingly that the whole production crew could hear them inside the studio 25 meters away. Instead she just scowled and brushed off her increasingly luxurious fur coat.

"You are fucking lucky the Sugar Pills I took before the shoot haven't completely worn off," she scoffed. "They must be suppressing my inner bitch enough that I still have some pathetic ounce of pity left for you. So I'm going to forget you just asked me that and let you keep your job...on one condition."

"Thank you, ma'am! I'll do anything!" Ethan trembled gratefully.

"I know you will," his boss smirked. "So when I get back from my 'Business Bitches' luncheon, I expect you to have tried a generous sample of the new batch of treats we've been testing. It's time my top assistant had the appearance and attitude to match my own."

Cookie didn't even wait for a response as she strutted away from her stunned, scared assistant. For the first time since the shoot a grin crossed her lips. But unlike the sweet smile of her TV persona, this was a smug smirk of the real cutthroat tycoon who enjoyed power and money more than anything else. She knew full well that you can't bake a cookie without cracking some eggs. It would be Ethan's mind and body that she had to break down and build up next.

A final shiver swept through her body, signaling the purge of the rest of that nasty sweetness in her body and brain. Cookie pulled her full-length fur coat more tightly around her thin body to combat the old, familiar coldness she felt. Stepping gracefully into her luxury sportscar she put one hand on the wheel and precisely pushed a button to make a call.

"Hi Evie, it's Cookie. Yes I am calling about that...heard already? Ah yes I suppose that is in your area. Yes it is a shame. Don't worry, those naughty little minions by you will be thoroughly punished. Here's what I need from the Emporium..."

Cookie chatted away, listing her demands, as she set up her next power plays in her head. She had a strike to crush. A reporter to turn. A new batch of pure, concentrated Bitch Elixir to try out. All which needed to be taken care of before lunch - but thankfully she was now uninhibited by those Sugar Pills and was at her full bitchy cunning. It was just another day as queen of the wickedly good, corruptively tasting cookie empire.

#bitchification #f2f transformation #magical transformation #elixir #good boy gone bad

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

Part 2

Steve backed into his case of a bed as he was met with two toads.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm Carol and this is Tommy", one toad gestured to herself and then the other. "We've decided to graciously welcome you into our home~"

"After we saw that fairy pestering you all night, that is", Tommy croaked.

"Eddie?", Steve's face scrunched a little at the insinuation. "He wasn't pestering me or anything like that." Last night had been the most wonderful night of his life and now his morning was sour.

"In fact, I need to get home." He crawled out of his bed, fully awake now, realizing he had been kidnapped in the dead of night. "I'm supposed to be seeing him again today."

"Again?!" Both toads exclaimed.

"Now that would be a bad idea", Tommy said, shoving Steve back into the case as Carol sat next to him.

"If you hang out with that prince, he'll actually get the idea you like him or something."

Steve blushed. It was a lot more than just like at this point. Apparently they could tell just by looking at him because they just laughed.

"Listen, you obviously don't know, but those fairies are freaks", Tommy sat on Steve's other side, boxing him in between them. "They're always flying around, like little flies."

"Delicious, but annoying", Carol added. "And so high and mighty."

"Ooh~ Look at me, I change the seasons."

"If you run in with their crowd, you're gonna be too busy for any fun."

"Busy?", Steve questioned.

"With all their busy-body fairy stuff. Getting involved in everyone's business", Tommy scorned.

"And keeping to themselves too much. They hardly go anywhere."

Steve didn't know how you could be a busy-body AND not go anywhere at the same time.

"Well, Eddie said he could show me the world. And I want to see it."

"Tommy and I have already done that! We could show you all the good spots~"

"And you won't be tied down to some prince."

"The bakeries of France, the monuments of Greece-"

"The shows in Spain, the art in Germany-"

"We'll take you there, free of charge."

The constant back and forth had him swiveling his head and losing his way and the more they talked, the more it sounded like a good idea to go. After all, seeing the world was what he wanted, wasn't it?

"The decision's made then", Carol decided without a word from Steve. She grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. "And to seal the deal, let's have a little party."

"A party?"

Tommy grabbed Steve by the waist and before he could protest, was set down on a lily pad.

"Of course a party", he said. "Gotta celebrate your nuptials."

"My WHAT?!"

"We're gonna get some other toads. Then we can really get crazy", Carol grinned. "While we're gone, you can decide which of us you're gonna marry. Fun fact, Tommy burps when he croaks."

"And Carol's tongue lashes out in her sleep."

"Hey wait a minute!"

"See ya soon~!", the two toads crooned as their boat skuttled down the stream, in search of the rest of their friends.

Steve looked at his surroundings. On a lily pad, no dry land in sight. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and then jumped in. Better start swimming. Hopefully Eddie wouldn't mind that he was late and also soaking wet. He wasn't quite sure of his direction, but all water had to lead somewhere and eventually get to land. As he swam, a bird flew overhead and noticed him.

"Uh, hey, quick question, what're you doing?", the bird asked, flying low.

"Swimming", Steve answered shortly, not having much room to talk.

"I can see that, but why?"

"To get home."

"Mhm. And you thought this was a good idea because?"

"What's it to you?!" Steve finally paused and floated in place while the bird landed on a cattail.

"Just seems like there's better options than swimming back. Like some sort of vessel."

"Yeah, well, my kidnappers took the boat, so this is my only choice."

"I mean you also could've just waited for someone to come by and help you."

"Who are you anyway and where were you when I got stolen?"

"Name's Dustin and if your kidnappers operate like most, it was probably night. So I was asleep."

"Well Dustin, I'd love to talk but I've got a date to keep. So bye." Steve started to swim again only to hear the bird call out once more.

"So were you planning on getting out before or after the waterfall?"

Steve didn't have time to ask before the current suddenly got faster, pulling him without even trying. He let out a shout before it took him under. He tried grabbing onto a stalk, a rock, anything to root him but his hands were too slippery and he was too disoriented. Dustin rushed after him and tried to pull Steve out himself but he wasn't strong enough. It wasn't until the other animals got involved, herding Steve away from the precipice that they were able to save him and get him out of the water.

Steve choked up what he swallowed and let out a shuddering breath. He looked around and tried to gather himself.

"Thanks. I owe you guys one. I'm...I'm Steve, by the way."

"So what're you gonna do now?", Dustin asked.

"I'm trying to go home, but..." Steve looked up at the grasses that surrounded him, much taller and keeping him from seeing any path that led back to his mother, back to Eddie. "It's looking kind of hopeless at this point."

He didn't even know which direction the toads had taken him. And then that stunt in the stream had him even less sure of where he was.

"So you're just gonna sit here and mope then?", Dustin asked.

Steve glared. "It's not that simple. I have no idea where I am or where to go!"

"Sitting here isn't gonna change anything. The way I see it, you got four choices."

"Four?"

"Yeah, go east, west, north, or south." Steve rolled his eyes as the bird continued. "Eventually, you'll either find home, or find someone who knows the way. Maybe you'll even run into that prince guy."

"How do you kno-"

"I think half the forest saw you two last night. Really gross by the way, you should get a room."

"I had one." But Dustin was right. He had to get moving somehow. Maybe Eddie had already gone to his house and saw that he wasn't there. Maybe he was already looking for him. Steve got to his feet, he took off his shirt and wrung it out as best as he could but made do with the fact he'd be wet for a little while.

His determination renewed, he started on his journey home, again.

----------------------------------

Eddie had gone through a plethora of emotions in the past few hours. Anticipation and elation when he returned to Steve's abode. Confusion when he found his mother crying. Heartbreak and anger when she said he had been kidnapped. Anxiety as he tried to figure out how to find him. Knowing it was toads didn't exactly narrow it down.

In his frenzy, he did remember to stop by home to speak with his uncle. If looking for Steve was going to take a while, he had to be sure he actually had the time.

"First you shirk off your duties last night to go gallavatin' and then you come in here tellin' me you found the boy of your dreams and now he's just disappeared into thin air?"

"Kidnapped. Kidnapped is what I said. And I need to find him."

"Doesn't seem like the helpless type", Wayne said, stroking his chin. "You're the one who said he parried you with a needle."

"Yeah", Eddie swooned a little. "But he's probably unarmed and he can't fly. Even if he gets free, it could take him ages to find his way home."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Hold off on the chill. Just until I find him."

"Hold off? Summer's nearly done, son." Wayne knew he was in love but messing with the seasons was a tall order for just one person.

"Please. If things freeze over I'll never find him. He could die!" Spurred on by the urgency, Eddie hopped onto Honey and left before he could get a response. He'd find his Steve. Or he'd die trying.

Part 4

Tag team:

@telidina

@novelnovella

@ajeff855

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #thumbelina au #enter dustin #as that annoyin as bird!#i need yall to know that as i got older i began to despise him #you'll never guess who i cast as the beetle #okay maybe you will #but guess anyway

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theladyofdeath · 9 months

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Lady Death's Lover {VI}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: Oh my word...I have had the most difficult time getting this up this week! I'm sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to everyone who reads, comments, likes, and reblogs! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Dear Cassian,

I must admit that I am completely miserable in Adriata. It has rained all week so I cannot go to the ocean, which is the only thing worthwhile to do here. I have also found zero romantic partners which has brought the boredom to a new level of heinousness. I do not think I can stand this place for more than a fortnight. By the Cauldron, I do not think I can stand it for another day. Perhaps I will cut my trip short.

Do have enough diabolical fun for the both of us in my absence, will you? If I know you are causing chaos, that is enough for me for now.

Your Favorite,

Mor

P.S. Try not to attempt to philander with any more married women. It’s very ungentleman-like.

Nesta

My gowns are lovely.

The modiste has truly outdone herself. There are four in total and each matches the other but has its own personality. The fabrics are all deep blues and grays, meant to bring out my eyes. They are the colors I am most comfortable in. In fact, most of my wardrobe consists of blues and grays but no one has complained about it thus far.

After transferring payment, my gowns are loaded into my carriage. Before making my way back home, I take advantage of the time alone and make my way down the street to my favorite bakery. I’ve never been one for sweets but they make the best macarons in Velaris and I cannot help but buy a box whenever I visit the modiste.

It is when I’m coming out of this bakery that I see him.

For a moment, I forget how to walk. Every elegant thought vanishes from my mind and I am suddenly all too aware of the giant box of sweets in my hands.

I pray he doesn’t see me and for a moment I feel I will get away with it, but then he turns from where he walks across the street and halts when he catches my eye. For a moment, we both stand there, staring at one another.

Then the world around me comes back to life.

The city streets around me resume, full of life. Carriages hurry past and people rush in and out of the shops. The sky above, recently clear and bright, opens up and the softest of rains falls down upon me and my macarons.

He still stands just across the street, watching me, although his head has since cocked to the side and a grin has begun spreading across his lips. A sudden sense of embarrassment floods me. I must look foolish, standing here in the rain with a box of baked goods while everyone around me starts to run to safety from the turn in weather.

Oh, gods.

He’s coming towards me.

“Lady Nesta,” he begins when he’s halfway across the street, “your dress. You should find cover.”

I find my voice. “Ah, Mr. Nazari. Yes, I, um…yes.”

I go to turn on my heels but, in true Lord Cassian fashion, he steps in front of me just before I can get far. “A lady should never be caught in the rain.”

“If it were not for you blocking me I would be well on my way to shelter, my lord.” I try not to sound too demeaning, but I cannot help myself. Every now and then that tone just seeps out and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

He finds this funny, apparently. A chuckle escapes him and he nods. “Apologies. Good day, Lady Nesta.”

Not Lady Mandray.

Lady Nesta.

I somehow like it better coming from him, like it better than the title the rest of the ton refers to me as.

Lord Cassian steps aside and I go to stroll past him, but I stop when he begins to walk behind me. Turning, I lift a brow.

He stops and rocks back on his heels. “Do not fear, I am not following you. I walked here and now must walk home, which is this direction. That is all.”

“How far do you have to walk?” I ask, the rain picking up. I worry more for the well-being of my macarons than my hair.

“A little more than a mile, it’s no worry,” he says, shrugging, then continues on his way.

I hesitate, knowing I shouldn’t ask what I’m about to but asking it anyway.

“Would you care to join me?” I ask, and he freezes, his back to me. “It seems we’re going the same direction and you should not have to walk in the rain. It seems a storm is brewing. You wouldn’t want to catch a cold.”

Lord Cassian looks up at the dark clouds, the rain falling directly onto his face as he squints. He looks back to me, his face searching mine, but then he asks, “Are you certain? I don’t mind a little rain.”

Thunder rolls and lightning strikes, and I nearly drop my macarons. I swear it’s purely for my benefit when he clears his throat and says, “It would be a pleasure to join you, Lady Nesta.”

I nod quickly as a downpour begins and hurry to my coach up the street. By the time I throw myself inside, my dress is drenched and my hat is drooping. Lord Cassian is in no better condition as he slides onto the bench across from me, his jacket drenched and his trousers sticking to his thighs.

My breath catches at the sight of him and I suddenly feel foolish. It should be impossible for a man to look more dashing sopping wet, but he somehow manages to. That ridiculous, shoulder-length hair of his is soaked and dripping into his cravat. I don’t realize I’m staring until I meet his eyes, and suddenly I’m all too aware of every inch of my body and his. My cheeks turn pink and I have to clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking.

The carriage jolts as it begins its journey and it makes me jump, which makes Lord Cassian grin…although he tries to suppress it. This was a mistake. That’s what I get for trying to be nice. This very thing reminds me why I do not do nice things often. Nice things always come back to bite me in the ass.

. . . . . . . . .

Cassian

Lady Nesta looks equally stunning and uncomfortable, although her discomfort is not the type of discomfort that causes alarm. No, it’s the type of discomfort that tells me she does not do this often.

I do not know much about this woman but I do know that she’s not exactly…personable. I’ve heard what other women of the ton think about Nesta — Mor brought the gossip to our recent Monday tea time and I have a feeling Rhys put her up to it — and it’s not good. In fact, the ladies of Velaris think Lady Nesta to be brutally honest and permanently bitter. I, however, value honesty and think a certain level of self-hatred and introverted nature can be mistaken for anger or bitterness.

Not that it should matter.

After my last encounter with Nesta, I vowed never to be around her again. Especially alone. Yet, the second I saw her stepping out of the bakery with a box-full of what seems to be macarons, my feet decided my thoughts should be damned and acted of their own volition. Before I could fully comprehend what I was doing, I was standing in front of her.

Now, I’m alone with her yet again, stuck in a coach as it rattles down the cobblestone. Outside, it’s pouring as it often does in the spring, and all I can think about is how her eyes keep drifting to me.

I’m trying to also be inconspicuous about where my eyes are wandering, but from the way her pale cheeks are turning pink, I don’t think I’m doing it properly.

Her light blue dress is clinging to her skin and I can’t ignore how her breasts are even further on display behind the soaked fabric. It doesn’t help that her chest is rising and falling, rapidly, as if she’s had a difficult time catching her breath since entering the confined space that surrounds us.

“You’re having a ball soon,” I say, because I’m not sure what else to say but I know that we can’t keep sitting here in silence, me trying my best to avoid the swells of her breasts, the way I can see her peaked nipples through the wet cotton.

“I am,” she says, voice soft but firm. “Will you be in attendance?”

I clear my throat. “Yes. Thank you for the invite.”

I neglect to mention that I originally did not plan to attend, that being in the same room as her is too tempting and I’m currently going mad, but my brothers coaxed me into going.

She gives me a curt nod before taking a deep breath and letting her eyes wander towards the closed window. I swallow, cursing as my eyes take another dive to her chest and back up again. Once the silence becomes too heavy, allowing my thoughts to run rampant and inappropriately wild, I ask, “Do you do this often?”

Nesta’s eyes snap to mine and she blinks. “Do what?”

“Come into town on your own,” I say, and I watch as she swallows and clenches her jaw. “Not even a maid with you? Isn’t that unbecoming?”

Her eyes narrow and if it wasn’t for the quick rise and fall of her chest, the way her skin is flushed, I would think she was offended and not something else entirely. “Are you implying that I do not live my life as a lady should, my lord?”

“I’m implying that it is simply not safe for you to be traveling alone,” I say, and she watches as I run my hands down my thighs, trying to eliminate my sweaty palms. It does not work. “You never know others’ intentions when they see a woman alone.”

“It is the middle of the day,” she says, meeting my eye once more. “And I have my driver.”

“Still.”

We stare at one another for just a moment, but that moment is filled with so much silent, skin burning tension that I feel the need to loosen my cravat, shrug off my coat, but I don’t. I let it suffocate me, let her gaze strip me bare instead.

If I slouched in the slightest, my knees would nearly graze hers. Suddenly the space between us seems so short, too short to make any rational decisions. This was a mistake. I should have stayed on my own damn side of the street. I should have walked.

“Is that what this is, then?” she asks, and I blink.

“Pardon?”

“Do you have poor intentions, my lord?” she asked, clasping her hands on her lap. I swear they’re trembling.

“Need I remind you that you were the one that offered me a ride in your coach?” I ask, then add, “my lady.”

Her lips part, and it’s so slight that one has to be watching them intently to have seen it, which I am.

She shifts on the bench, words seeming to have left her. It’s the silence that makes me say, only because I cannot stand silence and I’ve already seemed to have dug myself into a hole of wickedness, “Perhaps it is you that has poor intentions.”

Her head leans to the side, which is somehow unladylike and beautifully cunning at the same time, and the smallest of smiles plays on her lips. There’s no joy in this smile, only a cruel seduction that has my trousers holding back my hardening cock. Now it’s my turn to shift, and she notes it, those dark eyes trailing down until they’ve settled on my lap. Her eyes flare before snapping back up to mine.

“I am a lady,” she says, simply. “Ladies do not have poor intentions, only charitable ones. What kind of lady would I be if I were to let a gentleman walk through a downpour?”

“Indeed,” I say, and I cannot even help how rough my voice suddenly sounds.

This is ridiculous. I feel like I have never been around a woman before, or like I am once again sixteen and around a woman for the very first time. Furthermore, she’s married. This is highly inappropriate, but I seem to have lost control.

No.

That’s not entirely true.

If I had lost control her dress would be torn to shreds and I’d have her lying beneath me on this bench, worshiping every inch of her body beneath.

“I am grateful,” I add, and she nods her head politely in response. I stay in control until a wheel hits a dip in the road and our bodies jostle, and we touch.

My knee hits hers and her foot lands on mine as she tries to stop herself from toppling forward. I don’t even realize my hand is on her leg, just above her knee, until we both look down at it.

I don’t move it.

She doesn’t ask me to, nor does she move at all. All that moves is the rapid rising and falling of her chest — a chest that my eyes are in perfect line with. Mustering every ounce of self control that I have, I go to lean back, to settle myself once again on the opposite bench until this torturous ride is over, but I don’t make it far.

Just as I move, Nesta places her hand on top of mine and I freeze. She’s looking at me wildly, searching my eyes for something. I don’t think I’m breathing at all. I have no thoughts in my mind whatsoever. All I can focus on is her intent eyes, her hand on mine, my hand on her skirts, her lips that are parted and begging to be kissed.

Neither of us says a word.

“Just—“

Whatever she’s about to say evaporates as the coach slows and when it jerks to a stop, reality steps back in.

Nesta snatches her hand from mine as if she’s been burned and I take the hint, pulling myself back just as the door opens and I’m looking at the front door of my townhouse.

Not wanting to keep the poor lad standing in the storm, I take my leave and hurry to my front door, drenching myself further. I don’t look back at Nesta. I have a feeling she doesn’t want me to.

I have a feeling that whatever she was about to say, whatever would have happened if we just kept driving, would have surely led to utter regret.

Before I shut my door behind me, I watch Nesta’s carriage roll away, gone into the storm.

Calling for my butler, I beg for a drink to calm my still pounding heart.

#nessian #regency au #19th century au #period au #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction

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moaserendipity · 5 months

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My Top 10 BL's of 2023

I am back with my personal top 10 of 2023. I know I've been super quiet these days but making a top 10 is always fun to do. The #1 has been decided early this past year but for the rest... It was a crazy year for BL but only a few were really top tier...🔥🔥

10. My Personal Weatherman (Taikan Yoho)

One of the Japanese BL's I really enjoyed watching. It was more grown up then the ones I've seen and that was very welcome. I love the dynamics between the main characters a lot. It was a bit of a slow one, with the lack in communication between the two but I forgive that because the chemistry was really good.

09. Wedding Plan

Oh how i looked forward to this one, the second I saw the trailer. I loved the storyline but I thought it was very short, which made them rush through it at times, which was a shame because it was actually really good and I just wanted to see more. I loved the chemistry between Sailom and Namnuea, So I really enjoyed watching them. They are very new if I'm correct but I didn't notice it at all, so hopefully they will get another BL together but a longer one. Also I love the GL in this BL, it was very natural and I in the end hoped they would be the ones that got to marry. Not to forget about the cameo;s of my babies Payu and Rain and of course Prapai and Sky.

08. Moonlight Chicken

This one I've waited for so so long and it was kind of a surprise because I love EarthMix, Like Mix is my man but my attention got taken away from them and got attached to GemFourth who played Li Ming and Heart. I just loved everything about them! I loved how they incorporated Sign language because Heart was deaf and just the overall chemistry between them, was everything. They made me smile so much. Jim and Wen, you know were amazing as well but I sometimes felt frustrated by their interaction. The close moments they had were amazing of course but it was not what I expected from EarthMix but overall this drama was definitely worth the wait!

07. Kiseki: Dear to Me

I absolutely loved this one. I couldn't get enough of it. I am a sucker for the Hate to Love trope and this had exactly that and in a gangster way. Like I loved it. ZeRui and Bangyi were made for each other and you can't tell me otherwise how he went to prison for ZeRui and even got hurt but he still decided to dedicate his bakery to him with his Strawberry cakes, ugh too cute. The second couple made me want even more. The sassiness of Ai Di and the coldness of Chen Yi, they were really something. The way Chen Yi didn't realize that Ai Di loved him until he went to prison or that one hot night made me slap my forehead because nothing was more obvious, so I can not explain how happy I was they finally got together in the end!!

06. My School President

This really was a GemFourth year because this was their first leading BL and boy how they won us over with their cuteness. The OST was also seriously top tier. I think I loved all the songs. This entire Cast was amazing! To think I almost skipped this one...That would've been a mistake for sure, so I'm happy that I decided to give it another try because I fell in love with them and bingewatched it in one go. I can't wait to see the next project from them.!

5. Our Dating Sim

this Korean BL was a welcome one. I loved the office setting of this BL and the fact that the episodes were short as usual, didn't disturb me that much. Their chemistry made up for that! I will never forget how my heart sank when Ki Tae thought Wan had disappeared again, this poor man but I loved how Wan immediately comforted him the second he saw him. I should really rewatch this again.

4. Last Twilight

I know it's still running but I can not leave it out of my top10 for 2023. I am impressed with Jimmy and Sea. These two are everything to me at this moment. Their chemistry is crazy and I am happy they have this BL to show their talents again. I am impatiently waiting every week for the next episode and so far no episode has disappointed me, which is rare tbh.

3. Sing my Crush

Sing my crush was not even on my radar but the second I came across it, I bingewatched it. I am a sucker for music BL's, where the actors can ACTUALLY sing and play instruments.. I loved it so much. from start to finish. I really think this BL was very underrated. I did not hear a lot of people about it but it definitely deserves more!

2. I feel you linger in the Air

Ever since I saw the trailer, I wanted to see this one badly and boy did it not disappoint! I was in awe every episode. I don't think I've ever seen a Thai Bl that was staged in the past. Also this way of time traveling is one I actually like. As long as no bodies get switched I am loving it. Their chemistry was top notch and those intimate scenes. That kiss in the rain, Art I am telling you and that massage scene, HELLO!! I literally forgot to breathe at that point and my face was almost stuck to the screen, crazy!! So yeah this was a true masterpiece!

01. The Eighth Sense

Let's all act surprised by this one...... what can I say? This one touched my intire being. It touched my soul, My heart everything. I cried, laughed and even cursed at 2 people in particular.. This is the biggest masterpiece of 2023 and nothing can change my mind about this. The way I anticipated every week and felt sad when it ended, ugh!! I just want to praise Oh Jun Taek for the way he acted, because if I'm correct this was his first acting job or at least he is very new but he pulled it of perfectly and Ji sub, I am applauding him for the way he portrayed Jae Won. All I need now is a season 2 or an special episode where we see them do the things Jihyun wanted... like just please!! In al seriousness everything was amazing about this one and that's why it's my number 1

I really do think that the Korean BL's won this round. I feel like they are finally stepping up their game. It's still not as Explicit as Thai or Taiwanese but that's not what I am expecting. I don't always have to have NC scenes because without a story, it's not worth a lot. Overal the Bl's were powerful this year and Top tier. Hopefully next year will bring us even better ones!! <3

#my top 10 BL #the eighth sense #i feel you linger in the air #our dating sim #last twilight #sing my crush #my school president #moonlight chicken #my weatherman #kiseki: dear to me #wedding plan #wedding plan the series #jisub x juntaek #jimmysea #gemfourth #earthmix

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sun-havenn · 11 months

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Summer headcanons (but you’re dating)

it’s been very hot here so the inspiration for this is obvious. i still have to add kai and wesley, but i’m not far enough into my friendship with them to confidently write this for them yet. will come soon!

Claude

Summer’s too hot for him, he is not a fan. The heat smothers his creativity, he says.

Claude can’t handle heat very well. He gets unwell easy and sweats a lot. Still, he likes to keep to a routine and doesn’t change his afternoon errand run to fit the warm weather. He often ends up dehydrated or almost fainting when the day is especially hot.

The result is that you have to look after him a bit more than usual. You like o deliver fresh crops and meals, just so you know he has something to eat in case he can’t finish his errands because of the heat. It is a labor you do out of love.

(And it’s a labor he loves you even more for.)

While he’s constantly hot and has little to do, you won’t find Claude at the beach often. He doesn’t like the sand and he doesn’t like swimming. If you do, it will take some convincing to get him to join you. You’ll have a great time if he does, though. He’ll walk along the shore with you, and keep the shells you give him forever.

Darius

Seasons in Withergate aren’t as obvious as in Sun Haven. Besides, the darkness prevents most heat from settling. Summer is not really a big change for Darius.

It is for you, though. Coming and going from Sun Haven and Nel’Vari the difference in temperature is quite a shock. The cool air is usually more than welcome, and Darius is more than happy to see you come more often.

Withergate doesn’t have any special summer activities, snacks, or even a nice beach . Since Darius comes to Sun Haven’s celebrations, he wants to make something special about Withergate, too. So, Sporadically, he lets people organize small themed parties. Not obvious summer parties, but there will be bright decorations.

He’s spent a lot of his time trying to keep you out, trying to make you feel like an outsider. Now, he’s accommodating his city to your seasons to make you feel more at home.

Donovan

Would absolutely love to spend a day at the beach. Since he talks about the beach any day it’s warm, you decide to invite him to your farm, where you have your own strip of land.

He’s very excited. He missed the warmth, and just look at that clear water! Try getting anything done with an excited Donovan running around your farm, probably dripping wet.

You love seeing him happy, and you love making him happy. If he’s comfortable, you’d invite him over more and more. He’d go into Sun Haven, too. Explore the city and it’s people. Donovan in the summer is another kind of happy.

Just be prepared for the smell of wet dog to linger!

Jun

Is maybe the most easy person to ever exist, he has no complaints at all. In fact, he has nothing but good things to say about any season.

Likes that it’s warm, even if the kids sometimes get cranky because of the heat. He knows just how to bribe them: a cookie each and a cold, fresh piece of fruit.

Jun is a big fan of doing fun things in the summer. He lies to use every minute he has, and spends his evenings or mornings painting or journaling. He also likes to sit near his pond during sunset, preferably with you by his side.

Likes to spend nights at your farm. He claims the farmhouse of much cooler than his home. If he stays the night, he’ll get up with you at six in the morning and go for a swim while you take care of your farm (but only if you insist you don’t need his help).

Just try focusing on your work when he walks back from the sea, hair dripping and skin cool and wet and shiny. He likes it when you stare, though. He still loves seeing you blush.

Liam

Still has to work super hard. You don’t know how he doesn’t end up having a heatstroke every other day. All he does is be inside his hot bakery or be under the scorching sun.

Is too busy for a full day of relaxation, but will regularly make time to spend a couple of hours on the beach with his sisters. Since the girls like you so much, you’re often invited.

Just don’t think it will be romantic, you’ll spend hours building sandcastles or plotting with the girls to splatter Liam with seawater.

As his partner, you have to remind him to drink enough. He simply forgets.

Liam is very busy, but one evening a week is dedicated to you, as long as you don’t want to travel too far from his home every week. It’s a sweet sentiment, and those days you’re usually treated to some kind of summer-fruit pastry made just for you.

Nathaniel

His armor is so warm. He doesn’t like to complain, but on an especially hot day, something might slip. Only to you, though.

He’s always grateful when he can get out of his armor. As much as you love him, he will need a shower before you can get all close and comfortable.

Nathaniel’s favorite spot to guard during summer is the docks. The sea breeze is always cool, and he likes looking over the sea. It’s even better if you join him for some afternoon fishing, but if not, Peter, Rupert, or Kai are near to have a chat with him.

Most evenings are spent with his men and women. They usually hoist the tables outside when the sun begins to set. Located near the forest, the barracks are usually not too hot.

He also likes calm evenings with you a lot. Some days he just needs a break from all the noise. Those days, he likes going down the beach again, or being on your farm.

When you bring him down to your farm, he’ll always try to help you with something. Have you been crafting? He can help you finish! Forgot to water some plants? You already did so many, he’ll take care of them for tonight! He claims he finds helping you relaxing, so you allow him to help in small ways.

Vaan

It’s cooler in Nel’Vari, because the trees offer shade from the hot sun. It’s still warm, something that can mostly be felt through the warm breeze.

It’s a different wind from other seasons, something he feels more than others. He likes to experiment with his magic and the summer breeze a lot. Little people complain about the extra wind.

Vaan likes lounging around even more during summer. He spends a lot of time with Nel’Vari’s people, talking and laughing while taking little serious. He still likes being alone, and lounges near your farm when he doesn’t want to be around others. He always hopes you walk past.

He really loves your farm. During the summer, he doesn’t visit Sun Haven as much. Instead, he’ll come to your Nel’Vari farm. He prefers it if you’re there, of course, but is also content to be alone among your hard work.

If he invites you to do something, it’s most likely very laid back. Just being in his house or your farm sounds perfect to him. He’s convinced you work too hard and need to relax more, anytime he can convince you to stop working for an hour or two is a win for him.

Wornhardt

He doesn’t like summer very much. It’s too hot, he still has a lot of work to do, and his doctors coat is simply too warm.

He’d like to just take the whole summer off, but he can’t, and since he does like being a doctor, he fights through it.

Since Sun Haven is so warm, he has to treat a lot of heat strokes, and it can get frustrating, seeing the same person come in with the same issues weeks in a row.

Of course he’s talking about you. As Wornhardt puts it, you should relax more and stop running around when it’s boiling hot. Being a farmer and all, you can’t just drop all your work. As doctor, he’s taken to surveilling you from one to three in the afternoon, forcing you out of the sun. As your boyfriend, he just wants to spend a few hours a day with you.

You’ll still work a little, even with him near you. You might teach him how to fish from the shade of a tree (he’s very proud when he catches the tiniest fish on his first try) or take him for a walk in the forest to gather some fruit (since he’s surveilling you, he can carry them).

It’s a bit annoying at first, but you like spending time with him and it’s undeniable that you feel better out of the hot sun.

#sun haven #sun haven imagine #sun haven claude #sun haven darius #sun haven donovan #sun haven jun #sun haven liam #sun haven nathaniel #sun haven vaan #sun haven wornhardt

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queenof-curses · 1 year

Text

Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader

A Trip to the Dentist

Summary: You and Kento have been friends forever. Having tooth trouble, what better way to get it addressed immediately than to call up Dr. Nanami?

Word Count: 4.4k

Masterlist | More Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags: Minors DNI! Explicit, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Porn with some Plot, Oral, Fingering, Explicit Sex, Dirty Talk

“Hmm.. I’m sorry, Dr. Nanami is busy, can you call back at a later date?”

“Ha-Ha-Ha, very funny Kento…” You hold the phone to your ear, walking along the pavement of the small downtown area this town has.

You could practically feel the smirk he gives you over the line. It was just like him, his humor was always dry and somewhat teasing towards you. Not that you weren’t used to it at this point.

Kento Nanami. You knew him like the back of your hand, growing up in the same class and down the street from one another. He became your first friend when you were bullied by the mean girls in your kindergarten class. He saved you that one fateful day on the playground, and you never forgot it.

From then on, you two were inseparable. Two peas in a pod. You were science class partners, bus buddies, and more. However, that was years ago. You’re both adults now… both unable to leave the town you call home.

In fact, after college you both returned home to open your own businesses right here on the little downtown strip. Everyone in town spends their days here, and now you two have your own little part in its beauty. It really was something out of one of those movies.

Returning from pastry school you finally decided to say fuck it and opened your own bakery. The closest one was in the neighboring town anyway. You were welcomed with open arms and business has never been better for you.

Kento went into dentistry, opening up his own practice on the other end of the strip from your bakery. The townsfolk always joke how you two close friends ended up running opposite businesses in both location and practice. I mean, two best friends… one runs a sweets shop, the other is a dentist? It was comedic. They always teased the relationship between you two. However, they couldn’t be further from the truth.

You and Kento were friends. Very close friends and nothing more. In fact, you never really thought of him that way before. Have you?

Those thoughts are quickly pushed aside as Nanami responds to your teasing.

“You know I enjoy poking fun at you, I can imagine your blush now…” He says on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”

“Well.. I have an issue, and you CAN’T be mad at me.” You quickly add that last bit, thinking about how he’s certainly not going to like hearing this one.

“Do I even want to know?” He responds.

“Well…..”

“What did you do?” He asks, tone light but firm with you.

Uh oh, he’s using his Doctor voice.

You grimace before answering him. “Uhh… Well, I’m having some tooth pain. I was wondering if you could help me out real quick?” You ask, tone turning sweet.

“I told you to take it easy with those sweets, they’ll rot your teeth..” He nags from his end.

“I Know! Okay? But what do you expect? I run a freaking Bakery Kento! Now can you help or not?” You demand, matching his tone.

“Of course I can help, y/n… How could I say no to you?” He takes a minute to ponder. “Except I could say no…. Unless you bring me some of your special sourdough.”

Ha. Hook, Line, & Sink..

Your smile is huge. “Oh I think I can manage that…”

“Excellent, y/n. Let’s see… its 330pm. You close at 430 right? Just stop by after you lock up, I’m done with patients for the day so I sent home the assistant, but I think I can manage a cavity.”

“Ugh, thank you so much Kento! You’re a lifesaver!” You yell into the phone.

“Just don’t forget my bread, y/n” You can hear his light laugh through the speaker. “Also, NO SWEETS!” He yells at you right before hanging up the phone.

Hmmph, well then. Grumpy goose. As always.

Rolling your eyes, you reach the doors of your bakery and walk inside. Taking in the smell of fresh bread and cookies, you wave to your own assistant in passing. You let her go home for the day while you take care of the last of the customers. After a quick clean up and securing the money, you wrap a loaf of sourdough and set it aside for Nanami. 30 minutes later you find yourself locking up the shop and making the 2 block walk to Kento’s practice.

The sun was starting to set on this lovely spring day. As you walk you admire the storefronts and wave to recognisable friendly faces. You loved this town. It was safe and it was home. Finally arriving at the dentist's office, you knock on the glass door. Almost immediately, Kento walks up on the other side and you hear a sharp click as it unlocks. Stepping aside, he welcomes you inside then locks back up behind you.

“I got your bread for you, Dr. Nanami!” You smile as you present the loaf, cheesing hard enough for him to pick up on your teasing.

“Please, y/n stop calling me Doctor, I’m never used to it and technically I am off the clock. You know how I feel about overtime…” he mutters.

It only makes you smile harder. “Yeah Yeah, I know… I’m sorry, this tooth hurts like a bitch, so I had to give you a call.” You look up at him with wide eyes, trying to work your magic on him.

“It’s fine, y/n. I mean it. For your bread, I’d probably just do about anything…” he trails off, taking in your flour-covered outfit.

You notice his eyes on you, blushing. “Oh- sorry. Didn’t really have time to change…”

He simply nods and walks to the back, motioning for you to follow him. He’s much taller than you, lean and strong. How he has the time to work out, you’ll never know. He’s not wearing his scrubs, but a simple pair of dress pants and a white button down shirt, slightly undone at the top. His sleeves were bunched up, and he looks like he had a busy day as well. You watch him walk in front of you to the back, alcoves of chairs line the walls and he takes you to the very last one.

Motioning for you to sit, you set your stuff down and get comfortable in the chair. It was quiet. However, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You were so used to Kento’s silence, knowing how much he likes to work on his own. Not you though, you were the rambunctious one. The loud thunder to his quiet lightning. I guess that’s why people always thought you would make the best couple. Perfectly fitting together but so different, like puzzle pieces.

Whoa, Y/n. Where did those thoughts come from?

“Let me see inside, even though I have a feeling it is a cavity,” Nanami states, interrupting your traveling thoughts.

You comply and open your mouth, not giving him lip since you know he means business when that tone of his comes out. So you sit and let Kento do his work.

It was a cavity, of fucking course it was. What it really is, is new material for him to hound on you for your sugar addiction. You’re a pastry chef, how could you stay away?

He works on your tooth for the next 30 minutes, the sound of the drill and ejector being the only things in the room. Kento fills your filling and remolds your tooth. During this time, you really allowed your mind to wander back to your original thoughts.

You guess he was attractive. Well, of course he was, you weren’t blind. Kento was tall, but not too tall. Lean, but not muscle-ly. His blonde hair was always perfect, tousled just right. And when he took off those glasses, he was panty-melting.

Shit, maybe I should rethink this?

It wasn’t just his looks either, and you knew that. He always took care of you, that’s why people thought you were a couple. He helped you study your general education classes in college when you needed it most. He was there when your grandfather passed away. He was the one to help you choose a building for your bakery. It’s always been him and you, and you don’t think you could bear the thought of him being with someone else. He always brought you back down when you’d float too high.

Your thoughts escape you as Kento finally speaks, his voice seems hoarse as it cracks a little bit. “Uhh…. y/n.. I just have to finish checking the shape and then you can be on your way.” He was blushing down at you.

Uhhh... Did you miss something?

What you didn’t notice was that during your trail of thoughts Nanami had 3 fingers in your mouth. His thumb was on your chin, almost caressing it. He was holding your mouth open as he checked over your filling. Tension began to fill up the room as he looked at his hand and then down to you.

You locked eyes with him, thinking well, maybe I’ve always felt like this… there must be a reason behind neither of us never being able to commit to other people.

Your tongue snaked its way in between two of his gloved fingers, caressing the inner side of his digit. Not breaking eye contact with him, you slid your tongue up and down as you felt drool pool into your mouth.

With a sharp intake of breath, Kento asked “Y/n… what are you doing?”

“Hasdihgja songwebo feidn"

He took a deep breath before slowly removing his hand to allow you to speak. The room was silent as you both watched the thick trail of drool pull away with his hand, connecting his fingers to your mouth. He groaned out loud, watching it fall on top of you.

“What do you think you are doing, Y/n?” He asked, sternly.

You looked up at him then, always being the outspoken one. “Kento… tell me, do you feel something for me?”

Your eyes were so wide, he couldn’t believe the question that fell out of your mouth. What did you mean? Could you possibly finally be putting the pieces together? He thought before answering, “Y/n… I’m not going to lie to you… not that I could anyways,” he muttered, as if annoyed with himself. “There’s a reason I’ve stuck by your side…you make me happy… You bring me joy, you make me believe in myself. What was once friendship made me feel something more a long time ago… I never planned on acting on it, until I knew for sure…” He said, trailing off as he looked at you.

“For sure, what? Kento?”

“For sure that you reciprocated, Y/N.” He states, leaning down towards you. “Now tell me, little lamb, have you ever felt anything more than friendship between us?”

His question had you thinking. Always with the nickname too, little lamb. You chuckled at the memory, him always comparing you to a lost lamb. But, then again, it seems that time and time again he was always there to help find your way home. In fact, Nanami was Home. He was your everything. You pondered this thought before answering him.

“Yes.” You said while looking up at him, confidence coming over you. “Kento… I- don’t really know how to put it into words, but it’s a feeling of wanting more. I just-I can’t-”

He cuts you off then, leaning down and locking his lips with yours for the first time. He sinks into you and you welcome him in. His lips taste of winter mint. You groan into his touch, wanting more from him.

Your lips challenge one another- fighting for dominance. Letting his tongue dance inside of your mouth, you let him win the battle this time. He pushes off you- allowing you both to catch your breaths.

You're both practically panting as you sit back and take one another in. Your lips were swollen and glistening, it had his member hard and ready to burst free. You looked down and noticed the tension behind his zipper. Smirking, you look back up to him with a challenging expression- “Excited to see me?”

Kento smirks right back at you as it seems your teasing turns a switch off inside of him. He huffs out a laugh, thick and laced with sexual energy. It has his chest heaving, and temporarily distracts you as you watch his muscles writhe underneath the tight shirt. Noticing you not completely paying attention, his dominant side comes out to play.

Shooting his arm out he catches your throat, holding it inside his large hand. He’s lightly squeezing the sides, adding just enough pressure to turn off your bratiness and lock eyes with his. He takes his other hand and brings his fingers into your mouth.

Still gloved, you can taste the latex as he plays with your tongue. Pushing a singular finger to the back of your throat he triggers a gag from you. He groans at the noise and you respond, giving into his predatory gaze. Your tongue circles his digits, coating them in your own saliva.

Nanami grows hard watching you slurp and suck on his fingers. He imagines his cock being shoved down your throat as you gag around his hardness.

“Fuck, Y/n… you’ll never understand what you do to me…” he whispers.

You lock eyes with his as he pulls his hand from your mouth once more. Together, you watch as your drool drips from his fingers. The air was thick with sexual tension and you waited for him to act on it first.

He stood from his chair suddenly. It gave you an eyeful of his growing erection, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your mouth water even more. He truly was beautiful, almost like a god. Looking up through your lashes, you gave him your puppy dog eyes you knew would work so well, silently begging for him to act.

Removing his gloves, he looked down at you. His gaze was so predatory, so controlled, you could feel his dominance in your bones.

“I am going to fuck you, y/n.”

You gasped. You never thought he’d be so straight forward.

I think I like bedroom Nanami, you thought.

“I’m not waiting, I can’t wait- I’m going to fuck you right now in this chair… I've been waiting long enough.”

And then he pounced.

I lied, I LOVE bedroom Nanami.

He was on your body in seconds, tearing your clothes off you as you reached for his buttoned shirt. Your lips were all over each other, the sexual tension finally snapped. He lifted your shirt from you then dived to pull your pants off.

All you could think about was him driving his cock deep inside of you. The thought had your panties wet. You’re both driven to move faster and remove the barriers between the two of you. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt and stuck your hand beneath it, feeling hot and smooth skin underneath.

Kento was peppering your body in kisses as he removed your shirt. He stopped to decorate your neck in bites, licking and sucking his way up your throat. He locked his lips with yours as his scent surrounded your whole body. Warm sandalwood and a hint of mint…. He was your undoing. He unclipped your bra and threw it to the side, sitting back to take in your bare breasts.

Your nipples were perked at the sudden cool air mixed with your arousal. Nanami eyed your chest in earnest, reaching out and taking them in his warm hands. Always one for details, he tweaked your nipples, earning a small yelp from you.

“Kento.. Please,” you begged.

“What was that Y/n? Please what?” He teased you, lightly tugging on your buds.

“Please…. Touch me..” you whispered, locking eyes with him.

You were a wet mess, left begging for him in nothing but a pair of panties. He still had most of his clothing on, just an unbuttoned shirt revealing his chiseled chest. Strong and lean, you admired his muscles in the low light of the room. He was breathing heavily and looked as if he was losing control of himself fast.

That part was true. Nanami couldn’t believe how beautiful you were in front of him. Your breasts heaving, nipples at attention, and that pleading look you gave him... God, it was his undoing. The controlled tether snapped within him at that look on your face.

He leaned over to kiss you. Passionate, and slow… that’s the least he could do before unleashing himself upon you.

You moaned into his mouth, welcoming his body between your legs. He took a hold of your thighs with his hands, pushing them apart as far as the chair would allow you to do. You gasped, you were spread open for him. Your thin wet panties being your only shield from his gaze.

He looked down, smirking at the wet spot on your underwear. Reaching down, he grabbed the thin cloth and shoved it to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him.

Kento groaned out loud, “Fuck… y/n, I need to taste you.”

Your breath hitched as he situated himself partway on his stomach, not taking an eye off of your bare flesh. Not one to waste time, it was mere seconds before his tongue met your cunt. His hot muscle spread your lower lips and slurped your juice as if he was a man starved.

Your moans quickly filled the room as Nanami teased up and down your slit, mixing his saliva with your juices. He held your lips open with two fingers, admiring your darkest parts before spitting on your exposed hole. You whimpered at the lewdness of it all.

“Y/n… listen to me. I want you to cum on my mouth, I need to taste your release…” he trailed off before diving back into you.

He licked and slurped and drove you higher and higher. His strong nose teased your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your whole body. You found yourself quickly reaching your peak.

“Fuck, Kento… faster, please!” you cried out for him.

He dips two fingers into you, curving them to run against that sweet spongy spot inside of you. You screamed in response, digging both your hands into his hair and tugging his face against you. He groaned out; you could feel the rumble on your clit as his tongue danced with your little bundle of nerves.

Driving his fingers in and out of your hole, Kento imagines his cock buried in you as he pumps his hips into the chair. He lets you grind onto his face, using it to build up your release.

Your legs begin to shake as you feel yourself reach that wonderful place. They part as far as they can go as you grind your hips into his face one last time before screaming out.

“FUCK! Fuck Kent-” You groan out, not finishing a complete thought. In fact, you can’t even think straight as he finger fucks you through your high. Riding it out with you, he savors your cream on his tongue, thinking it's the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Sweeter than your baked goods, baby girl…” he says, looking up at you.

Removing his fingers from your cunt, he grabs the back of your head and forces your mouth on his. He runs his fingers through your hair, uncaring if your juices get tangled into it. He yanks your head back, forcing your eyes on his.

Panting, he says “I need to fuck you, I can’t wait any longer.”

You could only nod in response, not completely coming down from your pleasurable high.

Nanami stands once again, removing his button down shirt completely. You eye him like a kid in a candy store. He smirks down at you as he reaches towards your panties and yanks them down your legs.

“Perfect…” he purrs out.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond to that statement as he takes your hips in both hands and maneuvers you onto your hands and knees. Facing the head of the chair, you could feel the cool leather kiss your forehead. You arched your back for him, giving him a show of your wet pussy.

You hear a belt buckle move and a zipper slide down. Turning back, you notice he has cock out and in his hand, lightly pumping it. You gasp out loud. Nanami was a gorgeous man. Gorgeous men have gorgeous cocks. And it was breathtaking. His member was long with a slight upward curve. You smile knowing it’ll hit your soft spot just right. He had a thick vein decorating the side of it, meeting the base of short, clean blonde hair. It was perfect… he was perfect.

Locking eyes with you, he stands behind your body. Not bothering to take off his pants all the way, he ran his cockhead up and down your slit, mixing his precum with your cream. Slowly, he began to sink inside your cunt, relishing the feeling of your hole squeezing him.

“Fuck Y/N… you’re so tight.” He groaned out.

Kento took your hips in his large hands. The action made you feel tiny as he hovered over your body. He continued to sheath himself inside of you, stretching your pussy over his member.

You groaned out at the stretch. He prepped you well and you were wet enough to enjoy every moment of him sinking into you. You couldn’t wait, you wanted him to fuck your brains out. You needed him to.

Patience breaking, you groan out. “Kento.. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

You were answered with silence.

Suddenly, the air changed in the room. Tension seeped from his body as he registered your words. He paused his actions.

“Mmmm, if you insist y/n.” He said, knowing you had no idea what you just signed up for.

He slammed the rest of the way in, jerking you forward and making you cry out. He pulled out immediately and slammed into you again. And again and again and again. Not stopping, the sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the entire office.

You screamed for him, moaning mumbled words and holding onto the chair as he fucked into you from behind. Gripping your hips hard, you were sure he’d leave bruises in the shape of his hands.

He drove your entire body forward as his cock pulsed inside your walls. You felt helpless as he used your body for his pleasure. Lost in your own delight, you shift so you can meet his thrusts. Your breasts bounced from the action. Moving in sync, your hips met his as your skin slapped against one another.

Nanami moaned out, “You feel so good… so fucking tight-you’re gonna make me cum little lamb.”

“Fuck- do it. I want it. Cum in me, please. Mark me Kento...I’m yours.” You groaned out.

He growled in response, increasing his speed. He drove in and out of your cunt, his thrusts turning reckless. You could feel his heavy balls slap against your clit. A familiar warmth started to bloom inside you from his harsh pace.

“Shit- I’m gonna cum again, fuck… please!” you cried out.

He continued fucking into you, hitting your sweet spot. How did he already know how to find it? You couldn’t be bothered to think. His body kissed your clit as he drove you higher and higher.

“Cum on my cock, baby… give it to me, fuck.. I want to feel you.” He said, taking a handful of your hair and yanking your head back.

Your back arched and he used you as leverage to drive himself deeper into your cunt. The action had you screaming out your release, hitting you suddenly as you moaned his name. It was out of nowhere. Nanami pulled your orgasm from your body as if he owned every inch of you. Your pussy fluttered around his shaft, gripping him as if to steal his own release as he did yours.

“Y/n…” he groaned out, “You’re squeezing me so tight… mm’ gonna finish..”

“Do it! Give it to me Kento… please! Cum inside me… I need it.” You begged as you pushed your hips into his, guiding his member in and out of you.

Shit, he thought. Your words were so dirty. Nanami’s thoughts of marking you had him releasing his seed into your tight cunt. With one last snap of his hips, he coated your walls in white as your pussy pulled every last drop from him. You were milking him dry. It was as if you needed his seed to survive. He couldn’t believe it.

“Fuck Y/N… you feel so good..” he said, lazily fucking into you before slowing down to a complete stop. He held himself inside of you, relishing the tightness of your cunt and the warmth of you around him.

With him fully seated inside of you, his cock plugged you up. You’ve never felt so full before, savoring the heat of his cum and his body on top of yours.

He pulled out of you slowly, eyes watching your hole drip with his seed. He groaned, loving you like this. Finally, he thought, you saw him in the same light he always saw you in. You were his and he was never going to let go.

Releasing his grasp on your hair, you drop down to the chair with your ass still in the air, now completely exposed to the room. He couldn’t look away as he watched a mix of both your juices drip from your body onto the chair below you. He reached out, taking two fingers to stuff his cum back inside of your pussy.

You hissed out, sensitive to touch after your little adventure together.

“Hey now.. I’m still sensitive!” You say, tone sarcastic and teasing.

He grins at you, letting out a light laugh. “Yes I know.. I just like to see it.”

You turn over at that statement, locking eyes with him. Taking in each other’s fucked-out expressions, you both smile wide knowing that this is only the first, but not the last time you share a moment like this.

#kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento x you #kento x reader #jjk x reader #queenofcursesfanfic #queenofcursesjjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami imagine #jjk x you

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blueyjoy · 9 days

Note

📩 Simblr question of the day: if you have lore (for a build, a sim, a save, etc) are there any private jokes in it? If so, would you care to share the fun fact?

answer in whatever way is most comfortable for you and feel free to share this SQOTD around, make sure to use the hashtag SQOTD and tag me in separate posts ~ 💛

Oh, thank you for sharing @matchalovertrait! I'm a bit away from tumblr on weekends, I would have missed that one if it weren't for you haha.

I tend to name everything with a certain purpose. In my most recent private jokes that made their way in me naming stuff is me trying to find a name for the equestrian club (as I'm testing Horse Ranch gameplay with a specific sim), and the name of the club is Pony Pony Trot Trot, an ode to Pony Pony Run Run, a band I love.

Others are names of community lots. I don't actually have them being the name because I create multifunctional community lots, but I like to find a name for each individual building there. There's the café La Princesse, named after the café La Fiancée [The Fiancee] where I went for a brunch on a double date (boyfriend, ex-roomie and ex-roomie's boyfriend). Ex-roomie is trying to drop super obvious hints to marriage to her boyfriend, so she was like "Hey guys, you saw the name of the café right??" winking at me. I personally don't want to get married for now, and my oblivious boyfriend really just answered "oh yes, La Princesse right?"

Recent bakery I built is named La Grande Chocolatine, an idea of name I had for the current region Nouvelle Aquitaine when we were able to pitch in suggestions for the name of the new French region. I actually did not submit my idea (but my mom submitted hers and it was just as equally bad haha). My mom was super on board with my idea though. But also she kind of has stupid ideas because... well, she's my mom. I have stupid ideas like her.

There is also the Galeries Poiredo in my save lore. Name comes from Galeries Lafayette and the Passage Pommeraye (a beautiful place to visit in Nantes if you ever have time). It's not necessarily a joke, but it made myself laugh and made me think I was clever.

#answered #sqotd

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satanicsanity · 1 year

Text

Little fun-facts about my Wally-Baker-Darling Au! <3

Tw: Pills, disturbing themes, cannibalism, blood, disturbing imagery, Bonnie's bakery type themes I suppose

- Interestingly enough... Home isn't the villian in this au, Wally Is. Home acts more as wally's righthand man, and follows orders from wally directly. Home does not agree with what wally does to the neighbors he doesn't like... But he protects home, and Home knows better than to go against wally's word.

- Wally takes "sugar pills" to keep himself upbeat and happy around his friends, they're quite literally pills made out of pure sugar. They have no effect on the other neighbors... But wally has an odd reaction to sugar. It quite literally messes with his head, making him far more cheerful.. And more patient.

- Wally likes to call his victims his 'ingredients.' he doesn't see them as anything but product to be used, he feels nothing upon targeting a victim... No regrets, no mercy, nothing.

- Wally loves to personally taste his own dishes at times, making sure that they're perfect to serve.

- Wally has retractable teeth, that are sharp as blades... Home and poppy are the only ones who've seen wally's teeth.

- Poppy has often nightmares about wally, she's incredibly suspicious of him and knows something isn't right... But she can't tell anyone, she hasn't got any proof of wally's deeds. And everyone in the neighborhood trusts wally... They almost look up to him.

- Howdy visits wally's bakery frequently, and the two often just stand around talking to each other.

- Wally can be ever so slightly egotistical... He knows he's an amazing baker, and he's worked for years to get where he is now. If another baker moved into the neighborhood, wally would be suspicious but wouldn't mind... Unless they tried opening a bakery shop of their own, then there's a problem.

- Julie is often the one to know when wally is upset, and is one of the only neighbors who can calm him down when he's having a hard time... She knows wally struggles mentally, and is always there for him no matter what.

- Wally always brings treats to Sally's shows to share, as he and the other neighbors watch her performances. And wally will make Sally cakes as a way to congratulate her for doing a good job, as always. Often he will only leave his bakery to see Sally's performances, he always finds it would be insensitive of him to not attend.

- Wally overworks himself consistently, and his friends will find him passed out on the counter a lot. He doesn't have a proper sleep schedule, and is sleep deprived as hell. (lol same)

- Wally can put up a damn good fight, he's not the strongest.. But he's nowhere near weak. His victims aren't able to struggle for long before giving in, and getting slaughtered by him.

New funfacts!! <3

- Howdy slow dances with baker sometimes whenever Baker is upset, or has to go to an event with dancing in it! Baker isn't good at dancing and has two left feet, but howdy is slowly teaching him! Howdy is the only person Baker feels comfort trying, and failing, at dancing around

- Baker goes on early morning runs often, and listens to recorded true crime shows! (he got an i-pod from Julie as a gift!)

- Wally has a spiral scar on his chest that was given to him by entity as a marking of devotion/loyalty in a sense

Main/other information

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mae-gi-writes · 2 years

Text

just for the night . ten

"It wasn't real. Until suddenly, it was."

Genre: fakedating!, fluff, pining, enemies to lovers sorta

----

"Ugh. Fight me."

"You wish," Ten smirks back at you in that obnoxious way of his and you swear you'd like to throw a brick at him.

It's Monday evening and raining. The warmth from Baro Baro Bakery is the only thing that's keeping your fingers from falling off altogether, and you honestly would not have been in such a bad mood, if it hadn't been for your insufferably cocky co-worker.

You focus on organizing the buns along the countertop, making sure that they are all aligned and well displayed while trying to ignore the dark-haired man leaning against the storage door, "don't you have anything better to do?"

"Better than watching you organize your buns? I don't think so."

"Do you really enjoy being here?"

"Couldn't have imagined a better way to spend my Monday," his smirk widens into a grin.

"I'm not coming with you."

He has the audacity of throwing you a look full of innocence, "I didn't say anything."

"But that's what you came here for isn't it?" you scowl back.

He pouts then, breaking all semblance of nonchalance as he holds up his clasped hands in an attempt to beg, "a night is all I ask. Please."

"We barely know each other, even less support each other's presence. This is recipe for disaster," you lean back, slide the counter door closed before looking over at him, "what do I even get from this arrangement?"

"This body as your boyfriend, and free food," he quickly adds when he sees you're about as murderous as chucking him out of the bakery altogether, "and my parents don't care who, trust me. They won't even notice."

Your scowl could've murdered him, "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're the only option I have. The other girls will use this to their advantage--"

"Wow Ten," you let out an exasperated chuckle, "way to make me feel special."

"Well you shouldn't have asked--"

"If we do that, you'll cover my shifts for the next two months," you interrupt before he can retort back, "and give me all your free coupons that you get."

"Uh last time I checked I'm supposed to work up to thirty-five hours--"

"Do we agree or not?"

In the end, he had no choice but to comply to whatever ordeal you'd asked of him and you briefly wonder how bad are his parents for him to be so desperate. It isn't like Ten to ask for favours, especially not those that concern being his fake date for his cousin's wedding. According to Ten, his parents had been badgering him for ages to get himself a date or else they'd present him to someone else altogether -- someone fitting -- and fearing that they'd push him into the arms of whatever businessmen's daughter they could find, Ten had called for help out of desperation.

To say that the situation was out of hand is definitely an understatement. It's not that you don't know Ten. You do, having gotten acquainted during the last year of university when you'd decided to join the dance club, only to find that the said cocky asshole in question was actually talented, more so than others.

You're not quite sure yourself how you'd gotten such a bad first impression of Ten Lee. To be honest, nothing major had sparked fireworks between you, apart from the fact that you spent the first hour of dance class being picked apart and mocked for your lack of dancing skill.

"No, you're doing it all wrong. It's this way."

"A little higher. You need more power in your muscles."

"Do it again. No, not like that--"

It had been torture. It hadn't been fun anymore. And you'd already made up your mind to run away. Nevermind that you loved dancing in your free time. You found dancing in your bedroom much more peaceful and satisfying.

Alas, it seemed like the universe loathed youe plans for every time you tried escaping, you'd manage to bump into Ten himself. Needless to say that he dragged you to class whether it was against your will or not.

"I really don't think I want to continue--"

"Why not?" He'd raised an amused brow, "scared?"

"No, it's just--"

"Just what?"

That had done it. Never in your whole life had you been so determined to prove this little shit wrong. And so you stayed.

Now though, as you comb through your wardrobe in search of something to wear, it becomes increasingly apparent how bad of an idea this is.

The wedding is a monumental event in the Lee family. The celebrations last for three whole days, three whole evenings of family dinners and having to put on airs for people he doesn't actually like. But he does it, because of his unwavering loyalty to his family name and if not that, his grandmother, whom you learnt -- a few days before the wedding -- had been the mother figure he'd leaned upon his entire life.

"So you're telling me that nobody really matters, apart from your grandma whom I should impress?" you ask him one evening at Baro Baro as you're busy stacking the rest of the baked goods away in the storage area, "well, that doesn't put any pressure at all. Thanks for that."

"My grandma is...special. She doesn't usually speak much, so we never know what she might be thinking," Ten answers, "so I wouldn't advise you to say anything you don't mean."

"And yet, you're straight-up lying to her face?" is what you ask with a raised brow.

He has the decency to flush, "that's different."

"She wants you to get married?"

"Who doesn't?" he snorts, "practically everyone in my family is begging me to at this point, ever since Anong announced her marriage."

"What a tough life you have," you say dryly, cackling when he tosses the cleaning rag at your head, "I'm curious though...why me?"

"C'mon Y/N, use your head a little. Why you, of all people?"

"Even with logic that doesn't make sense Ten," you cast him a scowl, "so please, do enlighten me."

"For starters, you're not my type--"

Ouch. Well that didn't hurt at all. You scowl.

"--and there's no way I'm yours--"

"Damn right about that," you grumble out, reaching into the room behind the said young man to make a grab for the broom.

He follows you around the counter as you start sweeping at the floor, "--second, you have no attachments to me or my family, so that shouldn't be a problem when we have to break-up. Third, none of my family actually knows you, so we can practically make things up."

"You're a fucking walking cliché, Ten Lee."

"Wha--I am not a cliché."

"This is literally what romance novels write about."

"Are you saying I'm a romantic?" he grins at you, eyes sparkling in mischief and you grunt, shoving him out of the way in favour of finishing up your work. In all honesty, your bed sounds pretty damn tempting.

"You wish."

You've never really assisted at a wedding before -- the ones you went to as a child don't count -- so to say that you're not bothered at all would be a lie because admittedly, you're really quite curious about how this whole thing plays out.

"A wedding?" Your mother's stare is piercing, eyes boring holes into your skull. You, on the other hand, force yourself to keep gulping down your toast, "whose wedding is it?"

"Someone's cousin."

"And why are you invited?"

You try not to choke on your toast, coughing and quickly downing it with some scalding coffee that burns your tongue, "uhm--I--well, this-- my friend. It's my friend's cousin and he asked all of us to go."

"Who's this friend of yours?"

"Oh you don't know him, he's--" your mind panics, trying to scramble for any kind of information you know from your supposed boyfriend, "he's part of the dance crew I go practice with."

Your mother doesn't seem convinced, but doesn't push further and for that, you're grateful.

"We probably should go over the basics," Ten says as he walks you to the subway station after the night time shift. Part of you wonders whether he has another job, a stable income, or whether he's judt trying to figure out life, like you.

"Like how we met?" Your nose crinkles in distaste.

"We don't have to change all the facts. We met during dance class, and--and we staeted working on a piece together. For a competition."

"We'd have to make up an imaginary competition to prove it to them."

"Ah shit, you're right. Uhm, how about...we were working on something for...uh..." he's struggling and you would've mocked him if you weren't in the same boat.

"End of year performance," you shrug when he sends you a look, "it's not like we'll last till the end of the year. We're breaking up after three days."

"Yeah yeah, that works. Okay so, couple dance. And bam, we fell in love. I fell for your--uh--"

The way he glances over you makes your jaw roll. Does he really have to make it obvious that you're not his type? As if you're not aware of that already.

"Let's say I fell for your amazing sense of sarcasm."

You're not certain why it hurts, hearing it from him. But you brush it aside quickly, not wanting to dwell on it too much.

"No wonder you don't have a girlfriend," you snort.

"No. Don't and can't are too different things. In my case, I just don't want it."

"Yeah, because no one wants you," you mutter, before continuing in a louder voice, "and I fell for your sense of humour. Let's leave it at that."

"Deal."

"You owe me. Big time."

---

A few days later finds you decked in one of your sister's dresses, biting your lip nervously as you take in your reflection in the mirror. It's a simple one; black with a boat neckline that shows off your shoulders, curving along your chest, waist, all the way to your mid-thigh. One might think that it's a little too plain for such a thing as a wedding, but it's not like you'll be the center of attention. On the contrary, you wish to blend in with the background and if the dress helps, then so be it.

The doorbell ringing jolts you out of your small reverie. Casting one last look at your reflection, you sling your purse of your shoulder before wobbling your way down the stairs only to find your mother already opening the door.

Terror washes through you. Shit, you think to yourself as you quickly scramble the rest of the way down just in time for the door to reveal Ten's face.

"Hello! I don't believe we've met before!" your mother cooes in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers that makes you want to push her into the kitchen and away from the said young man, "you're Y/N's friend?"

"Indeed I am," Ten's lips curve into a smile as he bows slightly, "it's nice to meet you."

"Well if I knew that Y/N had such a handsome friend, I would've invited you over sooner!"

He laughs, "we actually work together so we're--"

And that's when his eyes find you.

There's surprise. Then shock, mixed in with something you can't quite decipher as he takes you in, your dress, down to the heels adorning your feet.

"What?" you half-bark at him, tearing your own gaze away to fidget with your purse when in truth, you just don't want to gawk at how handsome he is in his suit and tie.

"You clean up well," is what he replies, that same old infuriating smirk dancing across his lips and if you had imagined his shock a few seconds earlier, it's all replaced by his usual playful banter.

"Shut up--ow!" you recoil as your mother whacks the back of your head, "where are your manners, Y/N? Is this the way to talk to someone who's inviting you out?"

"Sorry," you don't mean it though, your scowl deepening as you notice Ten's face lighting with a devilish grin, "and stop smiling like that, it's fucking creepy."

"Apologies your highness," he bows in mock salute, before motioning toqards his car, "shall we?"

It doesn't occur to you that you're actually doing this, actually going to fake date for Ten Lee's sake, until you're sitting in his car and glancing at his side prpfile every now and then. It seems that Ten is just as wary, for he doesn't tease you as he normally does, for once actually allowing the silence to speak in his stead.

"Hey," his voice brings you back to reality. You blink at him, catching sight of the slight curl of his lips, "you look like you're about to shit your pants."

"Well maybe it didn't occur to you, but I don't particularly like lying to people," you reply snarkily.

"Who says we're lying, baby?" And with that, he makes a grab for your hand, intertwines your fingers together, and brings it up to press a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

You can't help but flush slightly, though you don't dare rip your hand out for fear of his driving skills.

"See?" He continues, dropping your still-entangled hands in his lap as hr turns a corner, "not that hard to fool people if you keep blushing like that."

"Oh fuck off," you really hope he can't hear how loudly your heart is beating.

He doesn't drop your hand until he has to park the car, swinging his entire arm back and giving you a glimpse of his collarbones peeking out of his shirt as he does so. You avert your eyes adamantly, cursing inwardly at yourself to just calm the fuck down.

Dim fairy lights illuminate the path up to the hotel venue where the celebration is taking place. Beautiful victorian pillars adorn the entrance that cascades with light flooding from the chandelier above. All around hanging from the ceiling are an assortment of potted plants, vines twirling down with such majestic beauty that it makes your breath away.

"How much did you say your family spent on this?" You croak out as you walk past the reception area in your wobbly heels. Ten, as if sensing your hesitances, places a hand on the small of your back, causing you to jolt at the sensation.

It's not unpleasant. Though it is strange, to have the warmth of his palm close to your skin.

"I don't even want to remind myself," he answers as he guides you down the white marble steps leading to a pavillon billowing with white trails.

People are already chatting by the makeshift stands adorned with the same vines, probably waiting for the said bride and groom themselves to appear. Ten leads you over to a pair of women, one older and sporting grey hair, the other looking like a younger version of herself, and you do not miss the way they glance at each other with smiles that suggest they're falling straight into your trap.

"Ma," it's when Ten calls her name that you manage a forced smile on your face, "grandma. How are you?"

"Chittaphon," His grandma is quick to embrace him, his mother following close behind.

"Hey grandma, this is Y/N. Y/N," Ten motions towards the said woman, "my grandma."

"Lovely to meet you," your throat feels dry athow intensely she seems to be studying you.

"And is this the girl you've been telling me about all this time?" His mother asks.

"Ma," Ten whines out, though the permanent grin on his face says otherwise, "you don't have to call me out like that."

"Oh as if she doesn't know," his mother retorts and without warning, makes a grab for your hands as she smiles up at you, "it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N. Ten's been telling me all about you from the moment you started dancing together."

"Oh did he?" You relish in Ten's sudden embarrassment as he is quick to splutter out, "that's not true!"

"Totally is," his mother replies, "and what a fine couple you make. When can I expect the grandkids? I'm not going to be there forever you know!"

"Ma!"

Ten's face is practically fire engine red at this point and though you should technically feel just as embarrassed, you can't help but cackle at his face. Cute.

No! Your mind screams out, no way.

But you don't have time to ponder over the new flurry of feelings when the wedding march starts blasting through the entire room and in a bout of panic, Ten's arm shoots out to drag you in the seat beside him, just behind his family.

He leans over, mouth barely brushing over your ear, "just a warning; my mother will probably ask you to ask me to propose." He shoots you a piercing glower, "don't you dare say anything."

"Aw, but she's just looking out for her son," you wriggle your eyebrows, loving the sudden turn of events, "wasn't aware that you'e already introduced me to your family before asking me out. How cute."

"Shu--"

"Chittaphon!"

A loud hush from his mother is enough for Ten to close his mouth, opting to throw you a scowl instead as you cackle silently. It seems that you've won...for now.

The ceremony is, undoubtly, beautiful and everything that a woman would ever want and you can't help but get caught up with emotion at the speech delivered by the grrom, a knot forming in your throat at the way he looks down at his soon-to-be wife like she's the most precious thing on this earth.

A brief thought crosses your mind; will there be anyone that will look at you like this?

Claps erupting through the pavillon makes you blink back to reality only to see the newlyweds walk by with brilliant smiles. Congratulations are thrown about in-between peals of laughter and, feeling Ten's hand weave through yours, allow him to tug you to the outer steps where everyone is gathered.

"What's happening?" You ask Ten in a murmur.

His lips quirk up, "oh best part, doll. Just wait," before he cocks his head towards the bride.

You turn towards the said beaming woman, bouquet clasped to her chest and before you know it, she's thrown it in the air with a whoop as the crowd gasps.

And it lands. Right in your arms.

Shocked, you drop it, scramble to pick it back up as cheers erupt through the crowd like an excited buzz.

"Congrats!"

"Oh my god, you're next!"

Ten's mother appears, beaming as she says, "so you will be next, I knew it!"

"Oh, uh--well, I'm not quite sure--" your words are interrupted by Ten's cousin rushing in to offer you his congratulations, "what an honour, Y/N! You have my blessing!"

It's so overwhelming that you freeze on the spot, unable to process that information until Ten manages to pull you away from the crowd around the corner of the pavillon, where you manage to catch your breath.

"Jesus," you can feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, voice breathless, "what was that all about?"

"Like I said, they really want me to get married," Ten shrugs, "you catching the bouquet doesn't help by the way."

"Well what was I supposed to do?" You glare down at the flowers as if hoping they'd combust if you glared hard enough, "give them back?"

He laughs at that, and surprises you by reaching over to push your hair away from your face before grabbing hold of your hand for the nth time that evening.

"Come on," his grin is wide, reaches his eyes and makes your stomach flip over, "let's not miss out on dinner. They have amazing sushi here."

True to his word, Ten is right about the sushi, for it all but melts in your mouth in a mixture of bold flavours that explode on your tongue. Even the main course -- either the option of a steak, grilled fish or beautifully cooked lentil burger for the vegans -- cannot compare to those tiny rolls of delight that make your mouth water with every bite.

Your table, despite being filled with his family, makes you feel at ease. They welcome you with huge smiles and friendly pats on the shoulder, before engaging you in conversation that makes your heart all warm and giddy. It doesn't matter that Ten doesn't love you as he should, you've never felt so comfortable with a group of people that should have picked your every flaw apart like vultures.

Instead though, they ask you about your own family, about where you grew up and what you want to be. His mother doesn't hesitate to pile up your plate when she notices it's empty, his uncle ready to pour wine the moment you're done with your glass. His cousins all fawn over you, telling you stories about Ten's childhood and his inability to make friends back when he was still young and wasn't accustomed to the country.

"He used to be so shy and reserved. I don't know what happened to him afterwards," one of the younger girls says with a snort, "he used to have girls over all the time."

"Wha--really now?" You can't help but raise a brow at Ten, who's in mid-action of grabbing some pork slices to add to his rice mountain.

"What?" He asks innocently.

"Apparently, your reputation precedes you."

"That's--stop feeding her lies!" He bursts out, half in annoyance and half in embarrassment as said cousins fall into peals of laughter, "you were always so fun to tease, Ten."

"Don't make me tell your mother about your secret night dates with that guy from your science class," he points an accusatory fork across the table.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

It's funny to see Ten in such an environment, away from your usual surroundings and from the way his eyes glow and the way his entire face crinkles up when he laughs, it seems that this night means more to him than he makes it out to be.

He catches you staring during the groom's speech after the dinner is cleared, and raises a brow in question before leaning closer, "you're drooling, doll. Speak up." He smirks.

You shove his shoulder with a scowl, "you're actually tolerable when you're not trying to be a know-it-all."

"Funny, I could say the same for you."

"Wow, nice comeback."

"See, you were doing so well up till now. One might even think you're in love with me."

The speed at which your cheeks colour deep red is instantaneous and you look away, hoping that he wouldn't see past the hair falling across your cheek.

But Ten is faster, leaning over his chair to catch a glimpse of your face, "aw," he coos at you, "you're blushing."

"Fuck you."

"Right now?"

The image is so vivid in your head that you can't help but swallow thickly, forcing your eyes to the happy couple feeding each other wedding cake as you grovel out, "you wish."

As if on cue and thankfully saving the tension building between the two of you, another round of applause fills the room as the newlywed couple makes their way to the dance floor. You focus your gaze on the pair, try hard not to let yourself cringe at the heat of the young man's eyes intense on yours.

And it's easier that way, to ignore the sensation of butterflies fluttering through your ribcage wih feelings you can't quite place into words.

You're glad when one of Ten's aunts drag him away to introduce him to some other family friends, leaning back with a soft sigh as you relish the quiet moment of peace. Because a little bit more and something would've shifted in the air between you, something dangerous. Something you cannot quite look in the eye yet.

And that something, in retrospect, is a mistake.

---

"Care for a dance?"

A few hours later finds you in the courtyard overlooking the lush green plains surrounding the villa, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleassnt hum of circadas and the gentle brush of the night breeze tingling the back of your neck.

It's where Ten finds you, on the bench amidst the foilage, high heels discarded at your feet while humming along to the distant beats coming from the dance floor.

You look up in surprise, eyes flitting to his extended hand to his face, "I'm not much of a dancer."

"You're literally in my dance crew, Y/N."

"Well, maybe I just don't feel like dancing today."

You'd hope that he wouldn't push further and just get back to the party. But as insistent as he is, you shouldn't have been surprised when he makes a grab for your wrist, pull you up as his other arm quickly cages you against his chest.

"We can dance here, no problem," he grins down at you, that same grin that makes your heart soften at the edges, "plus, you can't go to a wedding and not dance or you'll get seven years of bad luck."

"You just made that up."

"I just did," his grin turns bashful, "but hey, you're dancing aren't you?"

As much as you don't wish to give him the satisfaction, his smile is infectious. Soon, you find your own mouth curling up at the edges, "have I already told you how insufferable you are?"

"More times than I can count."

"It's not a compliment."

He bursts into laughter and you chuckle, shaking your head as he tugs you even closer as if on instinct, "you really are something, aren't you?"

You blink, "are you complimenting me?"

He wriggles his brows but doesn't answer, causing you to pinch his shoulder, "ow!" He jumps at the contact, a pout forming on his lips, "what was that for?!"

"For being an ass," you mutter while leaning into his shoulder and effectively hiding your embarrassment. In all honesty, Ten has been nothing but the best tonight and it's nothing but your pride that is holding you back from admitting such a thing.

That maybe Ten Lee isn't all that bad.

Oh come off it, your brain screams at you. He's been tormenting you all these years. One single night doesn't change anything.

You're so wrapped up trying to come up with a plausible excuse about Ten Lee that surprise jolts through you upon feeling the weight of his cheek pressing against the side of your head. His hand, initially at your wrist, brings it up to settle upon his shoulder before his other hand joins itd pair around your waist.

He'a humming, the softest tune of the music under his breath that makes you feel all tingly and giddy from goosebumps suddenly eroding across your skin. As much as you hate to admit it, being in his arms had never felt so...good.

Clearing your throat, you bite down on your lower lip as your cheek rests against his shoulder, "this is nice," you can't help but admit grudgingly, "you're not so bad of a partner."

He chuckles, "you're just saying that because it's cold and I'm warm."

You grimace, "I was trying to be nice."

A comfortable silence settles over you as a thought starts nagging at your subconscious. One that you cannot help to voice out after some time.

"You know," you murmur, "we don't have to pretend when nobody's around."

There's a pause. Then, he says:

"I know."

But he doesn't loosen his hold. Nor do you step away. And in the silence, there's some kind of understanding that blooms. It's warm, and crackling with a heat that sends liquid warmth down to your stomach.

Still, you stay in his arms, trying -- and failing -- not to enjoy the moment.

At some point, you're reminded of the wedding party still ongoing and reluctantly pull away when Ten suggests that maybe you shouldn't absent yourselves for so long. Though you have to admit to yourself that you're slightly disappointed as you walk back into the big hall, hanging a few paces back when he runs into some other family of his so as not to disturb their little reunion.

A pat on your shoulder causes you to turn to the source, only to find none other than the bride beaming at you.

"Hi!" She waves for good measure, a dimple on her left cheek, "I'm so glad you could make it, honestly. Y/N right?"

"Thank you for inviting me," you smile back, eyes unwillingly finding Ten's figure twirling a child in his arms on the dance floor. Cute. "Your wedding is lovely."

"Trust me, it was anything but lovely," she sends you a pointed look, "anyway, I'm glad I got to meet you now. Ten has been raving about you for so long that we started thinking you didn't even exist!"

Oh. Now that's interesting. You try to keep a poker face on, "raving about me? Are we talking about the same Ten here?" You try to joke.

"Please Y/N, that boy is whipped for you. If you knew how highly he spoke of you all the time, you'd marry him in a heartbeat."

Your chest tightens. You bite down on your lower lip, not sure how to respond to such a praise when in truth it's the furthest thing from the truth.

"And I have to say," the bride continues, not noticing your silence, "that I've never seen Ten so happy. I don't know what you're doing, but I think you're doing it really well--"

"What is Y/N doing really well?"

You don't have time to turn when sudden arms lace around your waist, a chin dropping upon your shoulder as you stiffen on impulse.

Ten, meanwhile, seems completely at ease pressing you to his chest, ignoring the pointed stare you're throwing his way.

Something jittery flutters in your stomach.

"None of your business," his cousin sticks out her tongue playfully, "we were having girl talk. Right Y/N?"

"Y-Yeah," and then, in a soft mutter that only Ten can hear, "what the fudge are you doing?!"

"Hugging you," you don't have to look at him to know that his smirk is there.

"Anyway, I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," she winks at you, before throwing her cousin a dirty look, "make sure you get a ring on her finger soon. She's a keeper."

You make sure she's out of earshot, then proceed to elbow Ten in the stomach. He grunts, letting you go so that you can turn to throw him a scowl.

"What the fuck was that about?"

Hurt flickers through his face, but you go on nevertheless, "and don't tell me that was for your cousin. That was clearly unecessary."

"Chill babe," he holds up his hands in surrender, "just playing the part, is all."

"Well maybe you should've asked me before doing stuff like that."

"You were fine with me holding you earlier," Ten answers, a frown furrowing his brows, "so I thought that was fine too--"

"You don't get to decide that."

"Okay okay," his frown deepens, emotion swirling in his brown orbs as he lowers his hand, "fine. Sorry I did that, and--"

"And what's all this about you being crazy over me?" It seems like a dam has suddenly flooded through you, all sense of self restraint thrown out of the window as the words slip out like the sharp sting of knives, "your cousin thinks we're in love with each other! And she--she thinks there's a chance we might get married and-- what the actual fuck Ten, have you been lying to them all this time?"

Ten's mouth opens. Then closes. He opens it once more, only to fall short in the silence that prevails.

And as if this couldn't get any worse, a familiar soprano rings through the air, slicing through with an icy coldness.

"What is going on?"

You turn, and sure enough, terror rips through your chest as you spot none other than Ten's grandmother standing before you.

Oh shit.

----

You're not really sure what happened that night. After his grandmother found you screaming your head off at her grandson, she'd asked him for a private chat and before you knew it, Ten's mother had bundled you up in a taxi, smiling apologetically as if she knew about your little plan gone to wreck all along.

You hadn't seen Ten since, nor have you heard from him. A few days after the incident had you caving in to send him a simple text to ask whether he was okay, only to receive nothing in return.

Today marks a week and he hasn't turned up for work either.

You're not sure how you should feel about the whole ordeal, for it is true that he'd lied to his family, yourself, and had made a complete mess out of things. He should be reaping what he sowed.

And yet, part of you wistfully wondered whether the way he'd spoken to you, held you that night, had been built on a lie. His touch had been gentle, tender, almost affectionate.

And you find, to your utmost horror, that you don't mind it.

That night, you don't get a wink of sleep.

Maybe he's guilty and embarrassed by what he's done, and trying to disappear off the face of the earth, which means ignoring you completely. Although, since you had taken part in his whole masquerade, weren't you technically allowed to know whether he wasn't losing his mind, at least?

Your mind keeps on turning and sifting over everything that had occurred between the two of you that night, so focused on remembering how his arms had felt around your waist that you don't even realise there's a presence at the counter until they speak.

"Y/N."

You jump, a yelp dying at the back of your throat when you whirl around only to see the said young man, decked in a light blue hoodie and white-washed jeans.

Ten.

Your heart flips. There's a brief thought of panic; you wonder if you ook dishevelled.

Oh come on, Y/N. Who cares?

"Ten," your voice comes out as a weak murmur and you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a wanton maid. Clearing your throat, you straighten, "thanks for ignoring me. Thought you got shipped to another country."

"Sorry, I was busy sorting out...stuff," he has the decency to look embarrassed for once, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he lookd around in an attempt to find a distraction.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you don't bother answering. Instead, you lower your eyes to the till, hands clenching into fists at your sides.

When Ten speaks again, it's a very soft-spoken proposition.

`"Look, I...I'm really sorry. About the lies, about everything really. I...there's no excuse and--" he stumbles over his words, pauses, starts again, "I'm really sorry, Y/N."

Your eyes flutter up to his then, and the amount of emotion swirling through his eyes makes your chest pinch with sympathy, throat tightening with emotion.

"Why?" You finally manage to croak out, "why the lies, Ten?"

A pause where he chews on his bottom lip, the silence ringing through your ears as awkwardness settles in the air.

"I was being stupid," he breathes it out, a broken echo of a murmur, "I thought that convincing my family beforehand would make it justifiable and I didn't realise until it was too late that I actually--actually like you, see you that way and...and next thing I know you're on my arm with that pretty dress and looking like everything I've ever wanted. And I'm sorry if I got carried away with it. I know you didn't like me that way and I--I wanted to at least have this night to daydream about what it would actually be like," he swallows thickly, takes another shaky breath, "to be with you."

You take in his words in silence, shocked at first at what he'd meant. And it isn't just about what he'd said but how he'd said it that resonates with you and makes your heart suddenly cartwheel in your chest.

The more you replay his words, the more it becomes clearer to you; standing in front of you, for a moment, isn't just Ten the boy who always finds faults, who always mocks you for everything that you are, but just Ten, the boy who got your heart beating like crazy when you danced together, the boy who flirted with you throughout thr wedding and who, without shame, is spilling out his hesrt for you take or break however you like.

He's probably anxious about the thoughts running through your brain and doesn't waste time to say, "I don't want anything out of this Y/N. Do with it whatever you like, but you deserved an explanation, at least."

Still, you open your mouth, only for nothing to come out.

"That's all I wanted to say," he turns away slightly, eyes quickly finding yours before dropping away, "I won't bother you again. Sorry."

And you watch as he turns his back and strides for the door, heartbeat suddenly roaring through your ears, blood pulsing along your brain as a knot coils in your stomach.

He's leaving, and he's going to leave without giving you the chance to even say something back, to give him an answer to his sudden confession.

You don't wait.

Your feet jolt forward and you barely realize you've called his name until he turns, just in time for you to hook your fingers onto his shirt and tug him in close enough that your noses brush.

The sight makes your breath stutter. You take a shaky inhale, feeling Ten's own body stiffen slightly, before he lets out a soft breath of his own.

Time stops on its axis, a pocket of infinity carved out for you and him as you softly allow your lips to press against his.

Warmth blooms, spreads through your limbs. Ten's gasp is silent, dying at the back of his throat.

Pulling back slightly, your teeth find purchase on you bottom lip as your orbs flit up to his in fear of what you'd find there.

Only to find nothing but deep, naked affection.

Your own breath staggers. Chest tightens, goosebumps blossom along your skin.

Ten holds your eyes as a silent question hangs in the air and after what seems like eternity, you open your mouth only for his hand to slip up to your cheek, cupping it in his palm before pulling you in.

He kisses you.

Fireworks ignite behind your lids. He tilts your head and you comply without much effort, quickly surrending to the way his lips move against yours, a rythm that drowns out the entire universe altogether. Your chests press together as one of his hands grips your waist, fingers pressing into the small of your back through your shirt, and a gasp falls from your mouth.

He swallows it up, mouth slotting against yours intimately as your hands find their way up his shoulders to wrap around his neck. He grunts softly as you kiss back, sighing into the kiss once your fingers card through his hair and doesn't hesitate to part your lips with his tongue to kiss you longer, harder. Deeper.

It's overwhelming, exciting. You can't get over how good it feels, about how good this feels.

You don't realise that he's backed you up to the counter until the cool wooden surface presses against your back, and as your lips part in distraction, Ten doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your frame to haul you up before stepping between your legs.

"Ten!" You can't help but gasp at his boldness, but he only grins back, that same crooked smile you'd glimpsed of the night of the wedding.

"What?" He murmurs, breathless, nose skimming down to your neck and nuzzling the skin there. Liquid warmth pools to your core as you shiver, flushing upon feeling his fingers slipping underneath your shirt to rest on your naked skin.

His eyes are dark, intense with emotion as they lock on yours. Tilting his head and nose brushing yours once more, he doesn't hesitate to land another chaste kiss. And another. And another. Until your head is spinning. Until all you can feel, see, smell, is Ten. And Ten alone.

And when he leans in for another kiss, tongue dancing with yours, you welcome him with open arms, a small whimper muffled into the kiss.

Ten's chest rumbles before he presses againts you, and the contact makes you whine out his name in breathless stupor, a sound that causes him to smile into the kiss.

You part for air after some time, chest heaving as you lean back. The young man takes this as his chance though, lips finding their way to your jaw and presses a string of kisses right up to your ear.

It makes your toes curl in delight, even more so when he murmurs out, "I wish I could've done that sooner."

Bright red spots of colour bursts across your cheeks and your body squirms in reaction, trying to turn your head away as embarrassment rushes in, "well maybe if you weren't such a dick, you--"

You inhale sharply as his lips cage in the sensitive skin at your neck, a slow bite causing a whimper to fall from your mouth,

"T-Ten--" you try to stammer out, only to fall short with another strained gasp when he slowly starts suckling on the said patch of skin.

Your body jolts, hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair to pull him closer. You feel, at the back of your mind, the slow sensual caress of his fingers up your spine to trace the underside of your bra. You can't stop yourself from melting in his touch, head falling back to give him whatever he wants and the satisfied growl that leaves him makes your heart giddy, your stomach knot up deliciously.

It's only when he finally halts his attack and draws his mouth away that the realization hits you; you're making out with Ten Lee, in Baro Baro Bakery, and loving every second of it.

He must feel you stiffening in his arms, for his head tilts to the side in hopes of catching your gaze. And when he does, you blink at the rosy blush littering his cheeks.

"What is it?" He whispers, unconsciously stroking up and down your naked spine.

You shiver in his hold, though you lean into him as if it's second nature, "nothing," you mutter into his neck, "it's just weird."

"Weird?" He laughs.

"Yeah," you pull back slightly, "it's weird to think that just a week ago I could barely look at you without wishing to slap your face."

He scowls momentarily and you can't help but giggle, "don't look at me like that. It's true."

"Yeah maybe for you," he mutters, loud enough that it reaches your ears.

That causes your eyebrow to perk up curiously, "oh? Care to elaborate? Are you confessing something here?"

"Y/N, I literally just confessed to you."

"And I seem to have short term memory," your grin widens, loving how flustered you seem to make him with all those poignant assumptions, "are you blushing?"

"You are," he retorts hotly.

"Look at yourself, honey--"

Ten yanks you forward, chest pressing against yours and lips hovering over your own. His eyes are dark, stormy with self-restraint and that's enough to shut you up.

You swallow thickly as the corner of his lips curl up, teasing, "I could say the same for you. You're all talk until I make you speechless, aren't you?"

"Don't use my words against me."

Chuckling, Ten proceeds to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I'm not, doll. I'm teasing you."

Heat springs through the back of your neck and you try piecing words together to distract yourself from how close he is.

"So, uhm--" you stammer out, hating how his grin widens at your struggle, "you said something about liking me?"

"I did. And I recall you telling me you did too."

"I never said such a thing."

"Right. Yeah. You were too busy snogging my face off--" Ten's words cut off in mid-laugh while he catches your arm aiming to slap his shoulder, "oh god, you're so fun to mess around with."

"Fuck off, Ten!"

His laughter just increases tenfold and it's so catchy that you join in, grinning as you push away some of his hair away from his eyes, "you're an idiot," is what you declare.

His grin is so wide it's almost blinding, "am I yours, though?"

"If you want to be."

He moves so close he can kiss you if he tilts his head, "I want to," he whispers.

A smile breaks across your face and before you know it, your arms wind around his neck once more before you bring him down into a kiss.

----

“So you’re actually together?”

That is the first thing that bursts out of Ten’s mother’s mouth as her eyes dart between you and the said young man as if she can’t quite believe it herself. Your hands, clenched until white in your lap, are starting to sweat underneath the pressure of her gaze. It’s not that you fear her, quite the contrary, you’ve no doubt she’s an amazing mother with kind gentle eyes and never having raised her voice all her life at her children. But from the impression that you’d left that night at the wedding, there’s a very little chance that Ten’s mother actually wants to accept you back with open arms.

“Yes,” Ten’s hand slide into yours for good measure, breaking your fingers away as he keeps his gaze on his mother’s, “we didn’t start on a good foot, and I did ask her to accompany me because I — because I didn’t want you to worry. But whatever I said about likingY/N— this part is true.”

Silence descends as his mother’s eyes flicker from his face, to yours, then back to him. It’s clear that she’s confused. Heck, you would be too if your son suddenly turns up to say that he’s finally going out with his fake date after having caused a ruckus. Maybe she doesn’t want to trust you anymore. Maybe she’s already started finding someone else for Ten, someone more suitable, someone who doesn’t lie in the first place.

But all those thoughts fly straight out of the window the moment her face breaks into a grin too wide to be faked.

“Finally!” She claps her hands together in childish glee, her eyes crinkling up into half-moons, “I’m so happy for you! Wait till Grandma knows this! Oh Ten, I knew there must’ve been something more all along!” There's no way this could have been all fake."

Your head ducks shyly at her reaction, “I’m really sorry about that night,” you murmur out, eyes quickly straining to the edge of the table.

"As long as Ten is happy and you both are finally together for real,” his mother beams, “that’s all that matters, hm?”

You swear you could’ve hugged her. The thought is so strong it makes your eyelids water slightly.

You quickly blink the emotions away as you mumble out your thanks along with a shy smile that she answers tenfold. That is followed by Ten’s fingers squeezing your own gently, but firmly, a reminder that he, too, is here for you.

"Anyway, would you two like some mangoes? We just received a fresh batch from the neighbours," she's already standing up before you have a chance to say anything, quickly toddling out of the kitchen like it's her main mission.

"Your mom is so cute," you murmur out to Ten, who can't help but grin back at you. That same, crooked grin that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

"You know where I got my genes from?" He wriggles his brows, making you bump your elbow into his shoulder with a chuckle.

It's safe to say that your relationship has smoothened out ever since his confession. No more mockery or hatred, and that makes you wonder if there ever was any hatred to begin with, or just tension. Your sister likes to think you're the epitome of enemies-to-lovers trope and for once, you're not the one to stop her. Because it's clear from Ten's teasing demeanour and mischievous behaviour that it had always been his way of demonstrating affection.

"I was flirting with you all along Y/N," is what he says when you ask him about it while he walks you back to your house that night. His arms are full with sweets from their homeland that his mother had insisted you take, "you were just too blind."

"Well then, you suck at flirting."

He scoffs, "uh no? You're the one who can't take a hint."

"Making fun of how awkwardly I dance in front of everyone is not flirting."

He can't help but grin cheekily at the memory, "you were pretty funny though, admit it."

You show him the finger as response, which only makes him laugh even louder before landing a quick peck on your cheek, "c'mon, that was ages ago. Don't sulk with me now."

"I'm not sulking."

"You so are."

You growl at him, making him laugh even harder at the situation. And despite everything, you grin at the happiness stretched across his face like an ephemeral painting you wish to keep forever.

He's so beautiful. How have you not noticed that before? It's not his face, but more the way his face transforms whenever he's genuinely happy.

You wish you can engrave that picture in your head forever.

"Well, that's me." You stop in front of your house and without looking at your watch, know that you're thirty minutes after curfew. Though...your mom doesn't mind. Not when Ten is responsible.

His fingers catch yours, essentially drawing you back to him as he flashes you a sweet smile, "see you tomorrow?" He murmurs, bringing your knuckles up to press a kiss atop your skin.

You try not to let your blush show, "being all smooth now, are we?"

"If it's gonna make you blush, why not?" And he tugs you even closer until your foreheads touch. Then, in a movement so gentle you fear he might break, he allows his mouth to catch yours.

You all but melt, arms slipping around his shoulders as you deepen the kiss with a sigh. Ten grunts in response, pressing one last chaste kiss on your lips before pulling back to hug you against his chest.

He allows his head to rest against your temple, and when you hug him, you swear you can hear his heart throbbing in his chest.

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