#mr love fanfiction

[ikenbar]

Hmm

HMMM

HMMMMMMM

#looks like ikamara is BACK BABY #SOMEONE FRAB THE PIOCORN CAUSE THE FILM IS ABOUT TO START #mr love ikes choice #mr love fanfiction #mlqc fanfic

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny at the tender age of 23, has had a bad month. He had just lost his job as an interpreter with his company due to rejecting the advances of one of the older female bosses and his landlord was trying to screw him over on rent.

It honestly surprised him when he woke up one day with his wrists bound in front of him and trapped in a tube. He had been out of the hero game since the portals closed up years ago and Vlad lost his powers, so it had been a while since the whole "kidnapping" thing had happened to him.

He looked out through the glass of the tube as he turned intangible to let the IV needles fall out of his arms. There luckly wasn't any glowing green goo in the tube with him, but he doubts it will stay that way long as the scientists outside his containment chatted happily about "the discovery of the decade!" Ick.

He waits till they're gone before turning intangible slipping out of his tube and heading straight for the computer. He knew how to hack, but he was low on time and needed to know exactly what was going on, so some ghostly meddling with electronics were necessary. Sorry Tuck.

It was at this moment he found out several things.

1. Danny had apparently been here for several months instead of the few days he had initially assumed

2. He was found somewhere in his own thermos, asleep. Luckily they haven't been able to replicate any technology from it.

3. Superheros were a very real thing now. How long had he been asleep?

4. He had been cloned. Again. But this time he had someone else's DNA mixed in with the clones to make them more stable and intelligent. Some guy named Red Robin. Huh. Was that his real name or...?

Danny took a deep breath before locating his new clone kids. Ellie would be thrilled...if she was still around that is. He could think about that later, right now he had to grab his babies-and oh ancients- they were babies! The oldest of the three looked four years old at most and the youngest looked only a few hours. He was still all pink and alien looking.

Luckily his children didn't fight him when he picked them up and flew through the walls with them. He made a mental note to teach them stranger danger when he came across a large red button.

You won't believe what it was labeled as. Yep. A self destruct button. How cliché. Whatever. He pushed it and sirens immediately started to go off and he continued flying them through walls before exited into a dark gothic city he knew Sam would immediately love.

Somehow he managed to immediately land a job as a linguist for Wayne tech. Probably thanks to the three small kids he had and the panicked look on his face. Bruce was a really chill dude.

Batman however, was a prick. He met the guy weeks after his run in with Bruce and he kept popping up after he found out the clone babies were partially from one of his birds and trying to take custody away from him or convince him to give them up. Danny retaliated by spreading the rumor/truth that his kids where Red Robins from creepy cloning scientists that kidnapped him before immediately moving out of Gotham and into Fawcett City to work for a competitors company. This way Red couldn't legally go after him for custody without revealing his identity :)

This is how Red Robin, at the tender age of 25, learned he had kids with a man named Daniel Nightengale. Not only that, Bruce knew about them and didn't tell him.

Danny made it clear that if any of the Gotham Rouges tried to follow him and harm his kids they would come back missing a hand. Joker found out the hard way that he wasn't bluffing.

Shazams old guy mentor almost has an aneurysm when he senses the freaking GHOST KING living in Fawcett. Danny is also much more powerful then ever before and accidentally made the power go out in half the city when he got truly angry with Batman.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #time drake #red robin #poor tim #the nightengale idea wasnt mine #but i love it and believe it should be the fentons go to for identity problems #tim wants to meet his kids #danny is superdad #ever listened to Mr. mom? #danny is the mom from that song and i fully support him #the batfam all lose thier minds #shazam doesnt know what to think of danny #danny is worlds best dad #long post

[follow-the-ghostlight]

I NEED TO DRAW MORE FANART FOR MY OWN FIC!! In The Fog of London is my Wattpad and Ao3 Jekyll and Hyde fic!! It’s loosely based on the book for source material!! Wattpad has the PG-13 version and Ao3 has the R version for more mature readers. I’m actually really proud of it hehe

GO CHECK IT OUT IF YOU LOVE MONSTER ROMANCE AND SHORT COUPLES!!

Wattpad: GhostLightSprite

Ao3: GhostLightSprite/SantoDelleMaschere

#literature #traditional art #traditional drawing #sketch #jekyll and hyde #edward hyde #oc x canon #fanart #fanfic #fanfiction #original character #original story #i love edward hyde #insane about them #insane about him #self insert x canon #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #in the fog of london #wattpad #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own

[dailykeiji]

what are your thoughts on gashu x mr chidouin x keiji

today’s keiji is: k……. keishu…………..

bonus:

#yea ok whatever i’ll make this the keiji of the day-ji. who even cares. Keishu #this may be the stupidest thing i’ve drawn yet #that third ask is way too well written for keiji x gashu fanfiction. i’m going to die #your turn to die #yttd #keiji shinogi #sara chidouin #gashu satou #i love how you brought up gashu x mr chidouin x keiji but then only mentioned mr chidouin to say that keiji would hate him #my art #ask tag #daily keiji

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 4: Birthday Candles and Rock Concerts✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’m so excited for you to read this fluffy, soft chapter between Joel and reader, I absolutely loved writing it 🥰 So much love between these two. Comments and reblogs always make my day, can’t wait to hear your thoughts ❤️

Chapter Summary: Joel throws reader the sweetest, most romantic birthday party and takes her to a rock concert

Word Count: 11.4k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Chapter tags: Oral receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, sweet talk, love confessions, cute moments between Joel and reader, surprises

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You spend the weekend before your birthday lazing around the house reading your romance books, strumming the pristine cords on your acoustic guitar, and binge watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A nostalgic show you could watch over and over again without ever getting bored. A weekend in is just what you needed.

It’s now Saturday evening, the warm sun slowly sinking behind dark clouds that threaten to pull it down as the moon takes its place, trading the fluffy clouds with clear skies and bright white stars. The air blows chilly breezes against your skin as you wrap the pink Nirvana hoodie closer to your body and cross your legs as you readjust the shimmering guitar in your arms.

You trace your fingers along the sparkly swirls and run them slowly over the glittering butterflies on the neck of the guitar. You can’t help but smile as you think of the handsome man that carved them with his own strong, calloused hands. Joel. You’re perfect, sweet man. You feel the butterflies flit through your stomach every time you think of him and his cute dimples that always pull at the edges of his cheeks when he’s really happy. And it’s always when he’s with you.

You smile at the thought of it, of him. You watch the sunset fade to purple and pink skies swirling into orange colors, then finally into darkness as the full moon shows its glow in the night sky. The back porch lights flick on as you focus on your guitar again.

You carefully strum along the cords, playing “Never Too Late” by Three Days Grace as you hear the melody carry through the wind, taking the song with it as it flows in the night sky gracefully. You get lost in the song, quietly humming along to the beat as your fingers slide along the cords. It was a song Joel taught you how to play, and it made it that much more special.

You’re so deep into the song that you don’t hear the sliding glass door open and close behind you until you hear his deep voice as he comes up behind you, stopping just inches from the fold out chair you’re sitting criss crossed on.

“Sounds good, baby,” he says quietly, his deep breath raising all the hairs on the back of your neck as you nearly jump at his presence.

“You think so?” you ask shyly as you look up at him, finding his lips curled up into a smile as a dimple forms deep into his cheek. The sight nearly takes your breath away. You love his soft smile, the way his brown eyes delve into yours as he always looks at you so deeply. Like he’s looking into the mere pits of your soul. It’s mesmerizing.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes out, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his dark washed jeans as his fingers strain to keep them there. He can’t touch you. Not right now, not when your father is right around the corner. But he wants to. God, he wants to. It takes everything in you not to reach out and take his hand in yours. You want to so badly. But you know one touch wouldn’t be enough. It’s never enough.

“Well, you can thank yourself for making me the little guitar player I am. I wouldn’t even know how to play if it wasn’t for you. So thank you… for giving me something I now love.” You blush up at him, and he runs a hand through his unruly curls, trying to get a hold on reality again before he caves and sweeps you up in his arms.

He wants to sit right behind you on that fold out chair, wants to wrap his arms around your hips and pull you flush to his chest as he lets his calloused fingers brush over yours. Let his lips trace the edge of your long, perfect neck as he trails them up and down, nipping at your jawline as he gets lost in your vanilla scent he clings to every time he’s around you. You drive him crazy with desire, but he does the same to you. The perfect match. Twin flames.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Always love giving you guitar lessons,” he smiles as you blush up at him, remembering how the last guitar lesson ended with you on top of his lap.

You shake your head clear of the steamy memories before you get yourself all worked up, changing the conversation casually. “So, having fun watching the football game with my dad?”

He gives you a small laugh as he nods his head, making one of his tousled curls fall down over his forehead. It takes everything in you not to push it back out of his face. “Yeah, the game’s alright. Kinda hard to concentrate when you’re so close though. Think I’d rather be hanging out with his pretty daughter instead,” he smirks, making his honey brown eyes glisten with golden flecks. He was always so pretty, so heavenly, so warm.

“Oh yeah? Is that so?” you smile, resting the guitar on your lap as you trail your fingers along the wooden edges lightly.

“Mhm,” he hums out, standing and staring at you in a dreamlike way. “You excited for the concert Saturday?”

“You know I am,” you say with enthusiasm, sitting up straighter in your chair as you bounce with energy inside.

“I am, too,” he says eagerly. He runs a hand through his tousled curls again and looks at you almost nervously before he asks his next question. “I know your birthday is Friday, and I don’t know if you have plans with your friends or anything, but if you don’t I was thinkin’ maybe you’d wanna spend the night? Sarah’s gonna be gone this weekend, and I figured maybe you’d want a quiet evening in? If not, that’s fine. Just thought I’d offer ‘cause I wanna make your day special. It’s fine if you have plans, but I just…”

You cut him off before he can finish his thought. “Joel, there’s nothing else I’d rather do than be with you. That sounds perfect,” you respond with a big smile plastered on your lips, trying your hardest not to get up and wrap your arms around his neck while you bury yourself in his woodsy scent you so love.

“Really?” he asks almost timidly, not believing you’d want to spend your birthday inside with him when you probably had friends begging to drag you out to some crappy bar.

“Really,” you confirm with the nod of your head and a shy smile splayed on your face.

“Okay. It’s a date then, birthday girl.” His smile reaches his brown doe eyes as they crinkle around the edges, making your heart beat faster by how pretty he is. He’s perfect, so so perfect.

After a few seconds of staring at each other, you clear your throat and interrupt the heavy glances that nearly pull you over the edge. “Well, guess you should get back in there. I’m sure my dad’s wondering where you are,” you sigh, eyes falling back down to your guitar as you fight to not reach out and pull him down with you. It’s getting harder to control your feelings around your parents. You can’t deny it. That’s why you’re not sitting in the living room with them. It’d be too hard to sit on the couch when all you wanted was to be curled up in his lap.

“Yeah, guess I should,” he says slowly, not wanting to go back in just yet.

Before he turns away, you call his name quietly as he turns back toward you. “Miss you,” you whisper, voice barely audible above the blowing wind outside, but he hears you clearly as you see his brown eyes soften.

“I’m right here, baby,” he says as he takes two steps forward, letting his legs meet the edge of the chair as you look up at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah… I do,” he whispers back quietly. He looks back toward the sliding glass doors, looking for any sign of your mom or dad. When he sees no one, he reaches a hand down and runs it through your thick hair slowly. You groan as his nails slide through your scalp, making you feel safe every time his hands are on you.

The next thing he’s doing is leaning down and softly kissing the top of your head slowly as he lets his lips linger there for a few seconds, probably too long. It feels good, always leaves you wanting more.

He stands back up and lets his fingers drop from your hair, stepping back as he smiles one more time at you. “I’ll see you later, baby. Keep practicing, alright? Love hearing you play.” With that, he disappears behind the glass door and leaves you alone with an aching feeling in your gut. You want him. You want him so bad that it hurts. But he’s yours, he’s yours.

You pick up your guitar again and start strumming along the cords, finishing the song you were playing before he came outside. The second you finish the song, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. When you dig it out and unlock it you see Joel’s name pop up on the screen.

Joel: Miss you more, pretty girl.

The message nearly sends you into overdrive as you stare at the screen, your lips curled into a huge grin as you read it over and over again. Joel Miller was so soft, so sweet, so tender. You’d never get enough of him. Never.

You slide your phone back into your pocket and strum lightly on the guitar again, only thinking of Joel and his thick, calloused fingers. Thinking of every sweet message he’d ever sent you before. And if your heart wasn’t bursting at the seams before, it was now.

Your parents take you out to Bartlett’s Thursday night for your birthday, the best steakhouse around Austin. You chew on a piece of fresh steak and let the sweet, savory flavors melt in your mouth with every small bite you take.

The restaurant is quiet tonight, only a few couples dwindling at circular tables nearby that chatter quietly amongst themselves. You take in the deep crimson tablecloths, the vase of white roses that sit in the middle of each table, the silverware that’s splayed out next to fine china plates, watch as the busy waiters take water and orders to each table every few minutes. It’s a fancy restaurant, not one you come to often, but it’s one of your favorites.

As you take another bite of the delicious steak, your mom sets down her glass of wine and smiles at you. “So, have any big plans this weekend?”

“Mhm. Might not really be home this weekend. Gonna go out with some of the girls tomorrow, and I have a concert on Saturday,” you reply as you take a sip of red wine, letting it slide down as the taste of cherry meets your tastebuds.

“Oh, who with?” she asks as she cuts into her chewy steak.

“Just a couple girls from class. You don’t know them.” You feel bad for lying, but what could you really say? That you were practically spending all weekend with Joel at his house, and he was taking you on the best date of your life? Yeah right.

“That’s too bad. You’ll have to bring them over to the house sometime,” she says as she adjusts the pearly white necklace that laces around her long neck, letting her dark hair sweep over her shoulders.

“Sure,” you say as you dig your spoon into the fluffy white mashed potatoes.

“What concert you seeing on Saturday?” your dad asks in between mouthfuls of French fries.

“Ghost,” you say nervously, knowing your dad will have something bad to say about the band.

“Oh, isn’t that the band where the singer always wears a mask and dresses in priest costumes and plays that glam rock trash?” he laughs as your mom elbows him in the side.

“Yeah, dad. They aren’t glam rock though. They’re just rock and they’re good.” You emphasize the word and roll your eyes as you place a hand over your thigh.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun,” he laughs. “Did you know Joel was going, too?” he asks as he looks over the table at you. You almost spit out your wine as you choke on the sweet taste in your throat.

“No, I didn’t,” you lie as you dig your nails into your knee, letting them bite at your skin just past the point of pain.

“Huh. Thought he might’ve mentioned it since you’re into those types of bands. I didn’t even know he liked them. Would’ve never guessed, but he does surprise me all the time,” he laughs as he leans back into his chair, patting his full stomach as he cleans off his plate fully.

“Did he say who he was going with?” you ask as you chew another bite of steak, this piece not hitting the spot as nerves run down your spine.

“Said he was going alone. Kinda surprises me. Figured he’d take a date or something. But the old man’s going alone. Maybe you’ll see him there?”

“Maybe,” you say quietly, trying not to crack a smile as you know he’s taking you to the concert. You’re his date.

“Has he been off lately to you?” he asks as he knits his dark eyebrows together and narrows his eyes like he’s deep in thought. “He’s just been busier lately. Seems a lot happier too. Something or someone has been taking his time,” he says carefully.

You feel your cheeks burn red and try to cool down with a big gulp of ice water as you focus on not getting all worked up. “Oh, really? I guess I haven’t noticed then,” you say casually, not displaying much interest as you rut your black heels into the polished floor.

“Just is strange is all. He keeps turning down your mom’s friends, and I keep trying to get him to go out with Alexa, but he won’t budge at all. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him, but he must be seeing someone,” he stammers out as he crosses his arms over his button-up white shirt.

“Maybe he just enjoys being single. Maybe doesn’t want to deal with dating?” You cock your eyebrow up at him and take another sip of water slowly, letting the icy goodness stop the burn in your throat.

You want to shout it, scream it across the entire restaurant that Joel Miller is yours. He doesn’t want other women because he wants you and you alone. That’s what you want to say to your dad, tell him to stop pushing women onto him because he’s yours. But you can’t. You don’t know if you ever could…

“Mmm. Maybe. But something is definitely up, and I’m gonna find out one of these days,” he promises.

Maybe he’d find out one day, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. Not if you could help it.

Friday night you pack a bag and drive over to Joel’s, nerves pulling through you as you don’t know what all he has planned for you. You said you wanted a quiet evening in since tomorrow would be a busy, full day of fun. You know Joel’s full of surprises though. He was always doing things you wouldn’t expect of him. He kept you on your toes constantly.

As you park your SUV in the driveway next to his Chevy and climb out with your bag around your shoulder, you pull the pink dress over your thighs and hug the black jacket around the chill of the cool evening. When you climb up his porch and knock gently on the door, you wait till you hear his name echo through the house.

“C’mon in. Just finishing somethin’ up real quick,” he yells as his deep voice vibrates through the door. You twist the knob and head inside, dropping your purple bag in the entryway as you close the door and twist the lock tight. “In the kitchen,” he calls as you pull off your jacket and hang it on the brown coat rack that hangs by the door.

You smile as you make your way down the dimly lit hall as your white slip on Converse slide over the dark wood easily. You wonder what he’s up to and why he didn’t greet you at the door.

What is that man up to?

When you push past the long hallway and enter into the dim light open kitchen, you freeze in place. Joel stands against the marble countertop with a single red rose in his hand, twirling it between his fingertips as he smiles over at you gently. His brown eyes are warm, and they crinkle around the edges as the lines on his forehead raise when he lifts an eyebrow excitedly.

You gawk at him as you take in the surroundings of the kitchen. There on the center of the counter is a frosted cake that looks like he made it from scratch. Birthday candles glow in the soft lighting as they sparkle as the flame dwindles back and forth. A bouquet of red roses sit behind it with a black bow tied against the glass vase. And on the stove sits shrimp Alfredo and cheesy mashed potatoes, your favorite meal ever. But that’s not all. No. There’s also a small pink package with your name written on with the words happy birthday, angel scribbled on the side.

“Joel…” you whisper out, completely in a daze as your heart pulls in your throat. There’s no words for any of this. No words for how good he is to you.

His lips curl up into a shy smile as he hands the single rose to you, letting his fingers trace against yours as you take the flower from him and grab onto his soft grey t-shirt under his rolled up green flannel. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says as he leans down and brushes his lips against yours. You lean into him and dig your fingers against his cotton shirt, letting yourself take in his rich mahogany and woodsy scent. Wanting to breathe in every part of him as you fall apart all over him.

He drops his lips from yours and takes a step back, his calloused fingers curling around yours as he leans against the counter effortlessly. “Make a wish and blow out the candles, baby,” he smiles as you turn to face the lit up candles on the frosted birthday cake.

You take in the glow of the tall candles and blow gently, watching as the fire turns to smoke as the room fills with the scent of blown out smoky candles. You fan away the lingering smoke and face back toward him, laughing as you go.

He rubs his thumb tenderly over the back of your hand and looks into your eyes intensely. “So, what’d ya wish for?” he asks with a smug smirk on his face.

“I already have my wish. It’s you,” you say choked up, eyes glistening into his as your whole heart swells with warmth.

“Oh, is that right?” he asks as he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you flush to his broad chest, making you giggle in response.

“Mhm, that’s right,” you say shyly.

“Well, then. Looks like we think the same. ‘Cause I’ve been wishin’ for you for a long time.” He tucks a loose curl behind your ear and pulls you in. “C’mere.” He presses his lips against yours as you drink him in, parting your lips to allow him to slot his tongue inside. You embrace his warmth, devour his coffee taste, ravish all of him as you’re tied to him like a strong rope around an anchor. He’s yours. He’s yours.

When he breaks apart his lips from yours, he holds you close to him, not letting you out of his strong grip. Your eyes slide down to the cake with white frosting spread all around the top, some spilling over the corners. You look at it closely, see the way it was so carefully made by hand. And then it dawns on you. He made it.

“So, about the cake. Did you make it?” you ask as your glowing eyes trace up to his, a warm smile growing on his face.

“Mhm. Took me a little bit to get just right, but I think I did pretty good. Strawberry cake with vanilla icing on top. That’s your favorite, right?”

Your eyes widen at the realization. No one had ever made you a cake before that was homemade. And he was so careful to pick out what you liked and what was your favorite things. He was quite literally a slice of heaven. Mere perfection in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s my favorite. Joel… thank you. That was so sweet. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me,” you say shaking your head, laughing at how stupid you must look for getting emotional over a cake. But it wasn’t just that. It was the effort he always put into you, the way he always cared and tried for you. He showed you every single day how much he wanted you, and it nearly brought you to your knees every second that you were his.

“‘Course I did, darlin’. It’s your birthday, your special day. The day you turn twenty-six. I wanted it to be extra special. Wanted to do all the things that make you happy.”

You hook your arms around his neck and smile softly up at him. “You make me happy, Joel Miller. You. Just you breathing and being in my space is enough to make me happy.”

He tics his jaw, and you can see warmth flood his honeysuckle eyes. The crows feet pulling at the edges of his brown eyes the wider he smiles. It’s absolutely mesmerizing. “That’s you, sweet girl. You make me happy.”

He lowers his lips back down to yours as you envelop his syrupy taste and smell, feel every single muscle in your body burn for him. This is what happiness was supposed to feel like, and you found it with Joel. Joel was your happiness.

After a few minutes of making out against the marble counter, you find yourself sitting across from him at the table eating shrimp Alfredo, cheesy mashed potatoes, and seasoned vegetables. It’s delicious, every single bite tasting savory and sensational against your salivating tastebuds.

You take in the mood lighting of the citrus candles, see the two red heart balloons tied to the back of a wooden chair, hear the low hum of a Metallica album playing in the living room. It’s quiet, peaceful, perfect with just the two of you. You couldn’t have asked for a better birthday than this with the sweetest boyfriend your heart could’ve ever desired. He had you hooked like a baited fish, ready to be reeled in at any moment.

“This is delicious. I didn’t know you were such a great cook,” you smile as you take another bite of your creamy Alfredo noodles.

“M’glad you like it. I don’t cook a ton, but when I do I actually kinda enjoy it. It’s sorta relaxing if that makes any sense.”

He takes a bite of his mashed potatoes and keeps his eyes on you, a faint smile curling up on the edge of his big lips. “I get it. It can be fun. Especially if it involves sweets.”

Joel laughs and shakes his head. “‘Course. You always were such a sweet tooth. Weren’t ya?” he asks with a wink, making you blush with the way he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you whole. He makes you frazzled all the time, and you don’t think that would ever go away.

“Speaking of sweet things. You ready for some cake?”

“Oh, I’m so ready,” you smile.

He laughs and rises from his chair, pulling you up by your arm as he takes you over to the counter and cuts you a big piece of cake. He lays it on a white plate, and you see just how pink and delicious it looks as the creamy frosting covers every inch of the square. Before you can take a bite, Joel swipes his index finger into the frosted icing and smears it across your cheek.

Your eyes grow wide and your eyebrows rise in surprise. “Joel!” you whine as you try to brush it off your skin. Joel grabs your wrist carefully before you can clean it off yourself.

“Oops. Was an accident,” he smiles mischievously as a devilish smirk curls around the edges of his lips.

“Haha very funny,” you chime out as you roll your eyes. “Now clean up the mess you made, Mr. jokester.”

He fully obliges as he pulls you to his broad chest and moves your hair to the side. “I planned on it,” he smirks. He flattens his warm tongue against your cheek and laps up all the frosting, making sure he goes slow, gets every speck as something pulls deep in your stomach. You shouldn’t be this turned on by him cleaning off the mess he made, but you are. So turned on.

“It’s good, baby. So sweet,” he purrs, a full smirk encased over his lips as he stares you down with those dreamy chocolate eyes of his.

“Didn’t even let me have the first taste,” you pout, jutting your bottom lip out as he smiles in return.

“I’m sorry, baby. Here. Have a taste.” He hooks his thick thumb into the icing again and brings it to your cherry coated lips. “Open up, darlin’.”

You fully oblige, opening your mouth just wide enough for him to slide his thumb in. You lick his finger clean, letting the vanilla goodness run down your throat as you hold tight to his wrist. You give him another long lick, this one just for show and watch him burn with desire.

His pupils can’t decide what to do. They grow wider, blowing out as darkness takes over. The once honey colored eyes grow into dark, deep chocolate eyes that want to devour you whole. He’s as turned on as you now, his breathing picking up as his nostrils flare out. “Taste good?” he asks as his large hands cover the sides of your hips, digging his nails into you for good measure.

“So good,” you purr.

He backs you up slowly to the edge of the counter, his finger digging back into your piece of cake as he takes a chunk of pasty frosting and paints it all over your inner thigh. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He drags out the words with a pathetic apology as he bends down and wraps his hand around your ankle, sliding his tongue up your thigh as he nibbles at the frosting, lazing his tongue up and down like he’s licking a cold popsicle on a warm summer day.

You dig your hands into the cool marble, sinking your nails in deep as you try to hold in a moan. He’s doing this on purpose, but you don’t mind. You want him to keep going. “Joel,” you whine out as you feel your panties start to grow wet under your blooming arousal. “What are you… oh.” Your words cut off as he trails higher, nipping just inches below your short pink dress.

Fuck, he loves to tease you. He’s getting you all worked up, wanting you nice and wet for him. He knows how to get you there, too. He’s too damn smooth with his moves. He could get you off by just the sound of his melodic, deep voice. Could make you cum by just blowing sweet whispered incantations in your ear.

“Wanted something even sweeter to eat and that would be you, darlin’.”

He hoists you up on the counter, bare legs hanging down as he stands up slowly, arms hooking around your waist and sliding you forward to the edge. Your breath gets caught in your throat as your cheeks burn hot. You feel flushed, turned on, excited. He was going to make you cum hard, you just knew it.

“You look so beautiful in that pink dress, baby. Did I tell you that yet?” he asks tenderly as he slides his hands up your short skirt, one hand ghosting across your slick center as you breathe out a flustered breath.

“No, I don’t think so,” you gulp as his thumb brushes over your clothed folds, elating a gasp as he breezes past the edge of your needy clit. You whine between your teeth as he drops his thumb.

“You’re always so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart,” he growls, teasing his other hand across the waistband of your panties.

“Mhm. You always make me wet,” you moan, begging him to put his fingers on you again. He gets the point from your pleading eyes and your labored breathing, stepping into you as he pushes your thighs further apart as his large body crowds your space.

“Hips up for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely, and you generously obey.

As you lift your hips, he pulls the soaked black lace down your legs, dropping them to the floor as he lifts your skirt up all the way, leaving your pussy on full display for him to feast on with his eyes. His eyes go pitch black, pupils blown out as he licks his bottom lip seductively. It makes you want him even more as you watch the flames in his eyes dance for you.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby. Soakin’ wet for me. Goddamn,” he says with a lust filled haze in his voice. He trails his fingers up your inner thigh, brushes over your center and spreads your folds wide as he sinks his calloused thumb down on you, slowly circling your puffy clit meticulously.

“Joel,” you moan, bucking your hips up as your body screams in pleasure. More, more, more.

“Oh, you like that do you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, a smirk pressed hard on the edge of his mouth.

“Mhm,” you hum out, unable to respond with words right now.

“Well, think you’ll like what I’m gonna do next,” he smirks.

He drops to his knees before you, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders as he gently kisses up your ankle, past your knees, up your inner thighs tenderly and then stops before he gets to your center where you need him most.

He glances up at you, a pure vision as his pupils blow out wide and his tousled curls drop down on his forehead slightly. He looks so damn handsome, so ravenous as he stares up at you with that heated look in his smoldering eyes. He wants to eat you alive, and you’ll let him.

“Birthday girls deserve to cum,” he smirks, half-hooded eyes staring up at you. “And I’m gonna make you cum hard, baby,” he growls.

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you in a flash. He licks a thick, generous stripe up your folds and groans at the first taste of you. You arch your back against the counter as he spreads your folds and draws slow, meticulous circles over your throbbing clit.

You moan out his name and dig your fingers into his tousled curls, eliciting a deep groan out of Joel’s chest as your fingers deepen in his hair. His tongue is so experienced, so impressive as he devours you, leaving you completely breathless every time he sucks and pulls your throbbing bundle of nerves into his giving mouth.

He moves two fingers inside of your dripping hole, slowly pumping his fingers deep inside you as you swear you feel him hit the back of your walls over and over again. You moan his name out loudly as he hooks his thick fingers up, hitting that deep spongy spot that makes you tighten your ankles around the back of his neck.

“You like that, don’t ya, baby?” he coos, lust blown eyes staring up at you from the dark wooden floor.

“Yes, ahhh,” you say in a breathy moan, voice getting higher pitched the more he ruts up into you. Your walls flutter around him the deeper he goes. You’re so close that you can taste the desire to cum on the back of your tongue, fingers twisting around his curls as you beg him to lick you up and down again.

“What do ya want, angel? Use your words,” he coos gently as he continues to pulverize your insides again and again.

“Want your…. want your tongue on me,” you whine, biting your lip as you feel more slick run down your thigh.

“Can you say please, baby? Say it. I wanna hear it…” he purrs, black eyes trained on you. “I love when you beg.”

“Pleaseeeee, Joel,” you beg hoarsely.

“Good girl,” he growls. He dives his tongue back into you, moving it up and down as he tastes you, torments you into oblivion. He tugs at your swollen clit, moaning every time he pulls you into his mouth, savoring your sweet flavor on his delicious tongue.

He loves eating you out, loves making you feel good, loves to make you cum as he feasts on you. You’re his favorite meal of the day he always tells you. He could eat you up every second of every day if he could. He loves it, craves it, needs it. Needs you.

He pumps his fingers faster, swirls his tongue languidly over your clit, and you’re right on the edge. You feel the warm rush start in your spine, slowly easing over your stomach and pelvis, warming your insides as you clench up around his fingers. You claw at his hair, feel your eyes start to roll in the back of your skull as white noise rushes through your ears.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Yeah. There ya go. Let me see you spill for me,” he growls, pulling your tingling bundle of nerves into his mouth, and it sends you over the edge one last time.

You tighten up against his fingers and feel yourself wash over him with warm slick that doesn’t seem to stop. He groans as he licks up the mess between your legs, laps at every crevice of your center as he licks and licks until there’s nothing left except your oversensitive clit and sated feeling.

You collapse back onto your elbows as you watch him slide your panties back into place, see him stand up tall over you as your slick coats his patchy beard, glistening over his dark mustache. He’s so beautiful, so fucking perfect. And he’s yours. He’s yours.

He places his large hands around your waist and scoots you to the edge, gently lowering you down to the ground as he braces you against his firm chest. Your legs shake underneath you, but he holds you up to where you can’t fall.

“Whoa, easy there. Think I did a number on your legs,” he laughs as he trails his hand up and down your lower back, soothing you from the intense orgasm he just gave you.

“You can say that,” you laugh as you lean your head into his soft flannel, eyes looking up at him as you see the soft glow of your slick on his beard. It nearly sends you falling to the floor.

“You gonna make it upstairs tonight?” he asks with an amused look on his face as his honey eyes seep into yours affectionately.

“Gonna have to carry me.”

“That can be arranged,” he smirks.

He picks you up and cradles you bridal style as you wrap your arms around his neck, laughing carefree as he takes you up the stairs and places you into his bed, leaving room for him to slide in beside you. When he finds a comfortable spot on his back, he pulls you into his arms as you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his side.

“This is nice,” you say quietly as he takes his hand and entwines his fingers with yours, knotting them together like a ball of yarn as you get lost in his calloused touch. He slides his thumb over the back of your hand, gently caressing you with nothing but care in his touch. The feeling is soothing, relaxing, delicate. You crave his touch like you crave caffeine, the feeling euphoric and addicting.

“Mhm. Love havin’ you here with me, baby. Feels empty when you’re not,” he says honestly as he takes his right hand and rakes it through your hair gently, lulling you into a calm, sated state.

“Yeah? You miss me when I’m not here?” you ask, shifting your weight to lift your chin and look up at him behind your long lashes.

“All the time,” he breathes, a still gaze focused on you as his calm eyes drag over you slowly. Your heart aches in your chest, a longing burn carrying through your body as you sit and stare at the man that sets your soul on fire. You ache for him, burn for him, mourn when he isn’t around. Two souls on fire for the other. A perfect match made in heaven. Joel was your saving grace, your way to heaven. You think he’d always be.

You raise up and settle onto his chest, brushing your lips over his as you savor his taste, still tasting the frosting from minutes before of the cake you still haven’t fully tasted. That could wait. Right now you wanted Joel.

“You miss me even now?” you tease, nose brushing over his as he smiles warmly up at you.

“Yes,” he murmurs, putting his hands behind your hips as he hugs you to his chest.

“Me too,” you reply, lips hovering just over his.

“I’m right here, baby. Not goin’ anywhere.” He pulls your head down to his as his lips crash into yours, feeling as if you were just splashed with a refreshing rush of water. You sink down into him, your hands running wildly through his tousled curls as his tongue dances along with yours. It’s slow, hot, possessive as he invades your mouth with his sweet taste that makes you weak at the knees.

You don’t know how long you’re there for, don’t know how you go from being fully clothed to completely naked as your bodies toss and turn passionately in the dark blue sheets. Your mind is a blur as your legs go over his shoulders, his thick cock driving into you over and over again as slick covers his entire length.

It feels like your whole body is on fire, center sated as he pumps you full of himself, emptying his spend in you as you both moan and whine as the orgasms wash over you like a blanket of bliss.

He pulls you back into his chest, breath ragged as you both come down from your orgasms. The room is hot, smelling of thick arousal and sex. It smells like him, the man you’re absolutely crazy about. It puts you at complete ease as you start to drift off to sleep on his chest with his thick fingers running through your hair.

You don’t remember falling asleep, it doesn’t take long till you’re under a blanket of darkness, but you’re not alone. Joel’s here with you. Easing you and lulling you into a blissful night’s sleep as you wrap yourself in his mahogany scent. This is where you belong, where you’ll choose to stay. This is it. This is home. He is home.

The next day is absolutely perfect. Joel gives you the best morning sex or your life and cooks you breakfast right after you shower together. Blueberry pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and leftover cake that melts like cotton candy in your mouth. You swear you’ve never tasted something as sweet and delicious before except for maybe him.

He picks up your favorite ice cream, strawberry, and then spends the day walking around hand in hand with you at Mayfield Park and Nature Preserve. One of your favorite places to relax and clear your mind. But you don’t have to clear your mind today, you get to relish in the fact that your favorite person in the entire world is at your side and trailing his calloused thumb up and down the back of your hand slowly, intimately. And it’s probably the best birthday weekend you’ve ever had in your life. Not even your sweet sixteen could top this one. Not when you have Joel.

You stay there till it’s time to get ready for the concert. You let the open windows of his revved up Chevy blow through your locks, let your arm hang out the window as you take in the cool breeze of November, soaking up the Texas sun as it warms the back of your arm. He lays his hand over your thigh and rubs slow circles over the material of your faded blue jeans. It’s so easy with him. Everything is easy with him. And you just know he’s the one you’re supposed to be with. He’s the one you were meant to find. Your everything…

In the next hour, you’re standing in his bedroom and assessing the outfit you picked to wear tonight. Your hands fall over the tight black leather skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles as you turn in a circle and make sure everything is intact. The sparkly lace sleeveless tank top fits you perfectly, and the white slip-on Converse just adds to the outfit. You feel hot, ready to enjoy a night of good music and even better company.

You generously apply some shiny pink lip gloss to your moisturized lips and draw sharp cat eyes with your liquid eyeliner over your sparkly, smokey eyeshadow. As you smooth out your wavy curls, you hear a low whistle come from the corner of the room and hear his drawn out deep voice come out like a dream.

“You look so good, baby. Absolutely breathtaking,” he says with a hum to his voice that comes off like a lilt, a voice you could listen to all day long on repeat.

You smile and roll your eyes nonchalantly, turning towards him and freeze when you take in just what he’s wearing. He leans up against the doorway of the bathroom, his right arm flexing against the rolled up red flannel that fights against his bulging biceps. His veins run thickly down his arms, whispering tempting thoughts into your ears to go sink into them.

His hair is slicked back, tousled curls held down by the gel that glues them in place. His flannel is left open, a dark Metallica shirt clinging to his broad chest. His dark blue jeans press firmly to his toned thighs, and when your eyes skate down his long legs you gasp at the shoes he wears. White Chuck Taylor All Star Converse sit laced against his feet, pulling the whole outfit together perfectly.

Your jaw drops to the floor at how ridiculously good he looks. He’s not just good looking, he’s so hot. The hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. And the white Converse? You’d never seen him wear any before. He was always in his worn, leather work boots. Not today, though. Today he wore Converse. Today was something new.

“What?” he asks with knitted brows pulled together, bringing his arm down from the doorway as he crosses his arms together, making the flannel pull tight around big arms. “Do I look funny or something? I can change if…”

“No!” you shout, cutting off his sentence as he looks at you surprised. “You look good, Joel. So good like wow. How the fuck are you so hot?”

He chuckles as he sticks his big hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You think I look hot?” he asks in an amused tone, his lips curling up into a big grin as a dimple forms against his cheek.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Yes,” you say while nodding your head fervently. “And the Converse? I’ve never seen you wear anything like that,” you say with shock rolling off your tongue, still amazed at what you were seeing.

“Oh, these?” he asks as he kicks one foot out, scoffing against the grey carpet. “Sarah helped me pick them out at the mall. I told her I was taking you to a rock concert, and she helped me look for some kinda like yours. Said she thought they were perfect, so I went with ‘em. Wanted to match with my girl,” he blushes as he runs a hand through his slick curls nervously.

You’re speechless, left lock jawed and trying not to get emotional. But the effort he put into picking out the right shoes, the way he wanted to match you? Well, that in itself was enough to start a fire in your heart.

“Joel Miller,” you say incredibly as you walk up to him and throw your arms around his neck, his own arms circling your hips as he pulls you into his chest, “you are the sweetest, most kind boyfriend I’ve ever had. You really went shopping for new shoes just for me? To match me?”

“Mhm,” he hums out, “wanted to make a good impression for a certain beautiful girl who’s way out of my league,” he teases as a small chuckle leaves his lips, his fingers digging into the leather of your skirt.

You laugh as you cup your hands together behind his neck, feeling his hair tickle the insides of your wrists. “Out of my league, huh?” you ask curiously, cocking your eyebrow up as you tread dangerously close to the edge of his smooth lips.

“That’s right. What’s a young, beautiful thing like you want with a forty-seven year old single father like me?” he laughs, a hint of insecurity shuttering on the tip of his tongue as his caramel eyes swirl in your vision.

You take the tip of your index finger and place it on his bottom lip, silently putting all his insecurities to sleep. “Everything,” you manage to say aloud.

You drop your finger and grab his soft t-shirt, pulling his lips down to yours as you both get lost in the cosmic kiss that sets your soul on fire. You take in his masculine, rich cologne scent and entangle yourself in his tousled curls, getting drawn into all of him as he pulls you tighter against him, lingering his lips on yours as he pulls at your bottom lip and slowly disconnects from your mouth. You groan at the loss of him.

“Should probably head out,” he says raggedly as he catches his breath. You nod in agreement.

“Yeah, guess we should.”

He takes your hand in his firm grip and leads you out of his room and down the stairs to his parked Chevy in the driveway, making sure he opens your door as you climb into the comfy seat of his truck. When he starts up the truck and latches his seatbelt into the buckle, he places his hand on the top of your knee and draws slow circles as you melt into his warm, calloused touch.

You’d go anywhere with him, let him drive all night long with the wind in your hair and his hand running up and down your thigh slowly as you look at his perfect side profile with his lips curled up in a delicious smile that sets your soul on fire. This is where you wanted to be, where you always wanted to be.

The concert venue is packed as you walk through the glass doors and hand over your shiny tickets for the attendant to scan you in. As you step through the doorway, you see the various colorful guitars line the walls, see packs of people walking left and right trying to navigate their way around the venue. The smell of beer and popcorn fill the air, mixed perfumes getting lost in the crowd as you move through the sea of people.

You make your way down the concrete steps and walk into the general admission area, finding a place right in the middle as Joel’s hand doesn’t stray away from your interlocked fingers. The sound of Blink-182 hums through the speakers as various types of people sing to the words.

You look up at Joel and see his eyes scanning the stage at the setup of the band equipment, shifting his weight from side to side to the beat of the song. You know he doesn’t know this band, but you’ll amuse him anyways.

“Do you even know who this band is?” you laugh as you look at his pearlescent teeth shining just underneath his parted lips.

“Ummm, Fall Out Boy?” he asks with his eyebrows knitted together and a line of wrinkles mapping all along his forehead. You stifle out a chuckle as you shake your head.

“No, close. Blink-182,” you smile, laughing with him as he runs a nervous hand through his slicked back curls.

“Ahh. Was close,” he chuckles. “You’re gonna have to give me a lesson on all these bands you like. I can’t keep up.”

“Only if you show me more of the music you love. I’m not as familiar with older rock bands from the 70’s-80’s. Except maybe a few,” you say as you lean into his arm, resting your head on his shoulder as he hums out an idea.

“I will, but maybe I can just take you to some shows? Like Metallica, Led Zeppelin, Guns N’ Roses?” he asks as his honeysuckle eyes linger on yours, making a shiver run down your spine in the heat of his stare.

You flutter your eyelashes up at him as you part your lips, tasting happiness and contentment on the tip of your tongue. “I would love to, Joel. I’ll go to any concert you want, will go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”

A warm smile fills his face, his honey eyes lighting up like fireworks as the crow’s feet pull tight at the sides. He looks like magic with the dimly lit colorful lights floating above him, painting the room shades of red and warm colors as his smile reflects off the illumination of the large arena. And you can’t help but feel that deep ache pull in your gut. Tugging at your heartstrings as he reaches inside your chest, entwining his own strings with yours as you become completely tangled together. One beating heart that burns for the other. Irrevocable, bound. A clear picture of two souls completely enamored with the other. Just like a spreading fire, burning shades of amber and orange that coat your insides with pure bliss. Wildfire.

Just as you get lost in his amber eyes, the lights go down and Breaking Benjamin takes the stage as the entire crowd erupts into screams of excitement. You break eye contact and draw your eyes to the now lit up stage as the lead singer yells to ask how everyone is doing tonight. More screaming erupts and then they start up playing “Breath”, one of their more popular songs.

Joel pulls you into his broad chest as his arms snake around your waist, holding you close through their whole performance. You sway your hips, sing along to every song, and even Joel nods his head to the beat.

He surprises you when you hear him quietly singing parts of “Angels Fall”, one of your favorites that you’ve probably played for him hundreds of times. But it warms your heart to know he’s grown to like this band, a band which you’ve loved since you could remember. And you can’t help but look up from the corner of your eye and watch the way he stays transfixed on the stage, paying attention to every detail of the guitarist’s hands as they strum along the stage. You could see him up there, shredding on the electric guitar. A sight you’d pay anything to see.

He catches you looking up at him, and he smiles gently as he pulls his lips down, down, down until he’s placing a gentle kiss on your temple. You lean into him, taking in every single moment of this night with your dreamy date. You can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather spend this night than with him.

When they finish their last song and clear the stage, the lights come back up and the sea of crowd parts like the Red Sea, opening up the pit as people flock to go get drinks and merch up the stairs. You turn around to Joel stretching his back, a slight wince in his furrowed eyebrows as you hear him pop his back and neck.

“You alright?” you ask as you reach a hand out to rub at his lower back.

“Mhm. Just didn’t realize I’d be so stiff standing at a concert. My knees are killing me,” he whines with the huff of his warm breath.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything to help?” you ask as you run your hand up his thick, veiny arm in a calming aura. Joel catches your wrist and brings it back down to his side to lace his fingers in between yours.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, angel. Don’t worry about me. Just gettin’ old is all,” he says with a deep chuckle as it radiates through your chest.

“You’re not old,” you laugh as you smack him lightly against his arm.

“Oh, yes I am,” he fires back.

“Whatever,” you say with an eye roll that makes him laugh even more.

“Next time we’ll get seats. How ‘bout that?” he asks with a charming smile spread taut across his mouth. It sends butterflies through your lower regions.

“Deal,” you nod as you spill up at him.

Next time. The words give you life, make you tingle with warmth as the words make a silent promise that there will be a next time. This thing you have together isn’t just temporary. It means he wants you. He wants you. And you want him. Forever and always. You never want to let him go. Never.

It doesn’t take long until Ghost comes out on stage, lighting up the venue with flashing bright lights and visuals that give off a party vibe. Tobias is dressed in a fitted black suit with his black hair slicked back and his skeleton looking mask stuck to his face. He’s handsome, making all the girls swoon as he flirts with the audience and starts off the show with “Spillways” blaring through the speakers.

The crowd sways and jumps, singing out all the lyrics as you hear men and women scream every time the guitarists gesture their hands in the audience’s direction. You feel Joel behind you nodding his head to the beat, feel his foot tap along to the cords of the guitar that echo through the arena. He’s enjoying himself, having fun. You can’t help but feel a little dizzy that you’re actually here with him. That he liked you so much that he’d get out of his comfort zone and take you to see a band he slowly warmed up to. And he ended up liking these guys, you just couldn’t believe it.

During the middle of the show, “Dance Macabre” starts to play and you spin around fast as Joel laces his hands into yours eagerly. It’s your song, the one you and Joel always turn up loud when it plays in his truck. Our song.

There’s a sting in the way you kiss me.

Something within your eyes said it could be the last time before it’s over.

Joel spins you in a circle and pulls you against his chest, slow dancing with you in a circle as you both laugh and chant out the lyrics together.

Just want to be, want to bewitch you in the moonlight.

Just want to be, want to bewitch you all night.

The lyrics hit you like a tsunami, Joel had bewitched you. He won you over heart and soul. Every single part of him you desired, burned for.

As you continue to dance and sing the lyrics to each other, the world seems to fade away. It’s almost like everyone else in the room disappears, fades into the black. You can only hear Joel’s melodic voice carrying through your ears as you sink deeper into him. His warm, deep brown eyes only look at you, and they shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them glow before.

You can’t break away from his gaze, can’t wipe the ridiculous grin you have plastered on your face, can’t stop singing the enchanting lyrics with him as he spins you around once more, latching his arms around your waist as he pulls you in.

You wrap your arms around his neck, stand on your tiptoes to ghost your lips over his as he brings his forehead down onto yours, resting it there as he stares deep into your eyes. It’s just you and him, floating off on your own island that was made just for you as the music carries through your ears.

This feels different, so intimate, so special. It’s as if the universe and all the stars aligned together to put you and Joel in this place and time together. Like nothing else matters in the world. It’s just you and him dancing, singing the lyrics together, and getting lost in each other's eyes. It’s absolute magic, magnetic, euphoric. And you swear you see forever in his eyes.

When the song ends he pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, not caring about who might see. He doesn’t care about anything other than you in this moment of time, doesn’t want to ever let this moment go. Because it means the world to him. You mean the world to him.

When you turn back towards the stage and Joel wraps his arms back around your waist, you pull your iPhone out and open up the camera. You want to remember this moment forever, want to keep it locked safe in your memories so you can look back months later and remember one of the happiest nights of your life.

“Take a picture with me?” you ask shyly as you hold your phone up.

“What, the prettiest girl wants to take a picture with me? I’m flattered, sweetheart. Gonna make me look bad though,” he smiles as he blows gently against your ear, nipping your earlobe as you drown in his sweet smelling cologne.

“I could never make you look bad, Joel Miller,” you laugh.

You angle the phone just right where you’re both looking into the camera, his face resting beside your cheek as he smiles devastatingly handsome into the lense. You snap a picture and then another, but then he’s changing positions and giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

You snap another picture of him like that, looking nothing but love struck for each other. Then you turn around and plant your lips on his as he holds you tight by the waist. You capture the moment, snapping a couple shots as your lips linger over his. These would be some of the best memories of tonight, something you could print off and put in a picture frame. Your favorite keepsake of them all, and that was Joel Miller.

You drag your tired legs outside the concert venue, dreading the long walk back to the truck. It’s only a few blocks away, but still. It feels like miles in the state you’re in.

Joel notices you lagging behind and slows his long stride. “You okay there? Look a little tired,” he asks as he takes your hand in his to steady yourself.

“I’m just tired. I feel like I’m about to fall over. Soooo tired and my feet are on fire, but it was absolutely worth it,” you smile, eyes lighting up at the curl of his lips on his beautiful face.

“You need a hand, darlin’? Don’t want ya fallin’ over on me now,” he laughs, and the sound is infectious as it rings sensually through your ears.

“I’ll be okay,” you sigh, continuing to walk with the burn of the back of your heels.

Before you can comprehend what happens, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder as you scream and laugh at the same time, throwing your arms around his neck to support yourself.

“Joel! Put me down! I don’t want people seeing up my skirt,” you laugh as he tugs on the material, making sure you’re fully covered.

“Not a chance, sweetheart. And you’re covered, I got ya.” He gives a gentle slap to your ass as you shriek and dig your fingers into his tousled curls at the nape of his neck. You relax your head against the crook of his neck and let him carry you back to the truck as the bottom of your feet start to let up.

“Your back, Joel. I don’t want to irritate it,” you say with concern running off your tongue. The last thing you want to do is throw his back out. You’d be giving him back massages endlessly to make up for it if that’s what happened.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Don’t worry about me. Gotta take care of the birthday girl,” he beams as he carries you across the road to the large, busy parking lot he parked in earlier.

“You’re sweet, Joel, but really. I don’t want to hurt you,” you repeat, your words coming out more serious than before.

“I’m fine, baby. Really.” You nod your head and sigh, continue letting him carry you until he gets to the truck, unlocking the door as he sits you down into the passenger seat and closes the door gently behind you. When he opens his door and gets situated in the driver’s seat, you flatten your body over the entire front seat and curl your head onto his lap as you dig your hand into his dark jeans.

“You gonna make me drive like that, baby?” he laughs as you turn on your back and look up at him, latching on to his flannel as you smile up at him.

“Was thinking about it.”

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, and you can feel all the vibrations in his body go through yours. It’s a nice feeling, makes you feel even more connected to him.

“I had the best time tonight,” you say quietly as you drag your thumb against the cotton material, making circular patterns as you focus on the way he’s looking at you. Like you’re the only one he sees.

“Me too, angel. I can’t tell you the last time I had that much fun at a concert. But I can tell you one thing, it’s because you were with me,” he says with his lips curling up into a sideways smile that nearly takes the breath from you.

“Yeah?” you ask with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he confirms with the nod of his head, a stray curl falling down onto his forehead as it escapes from the gel in his hair. You lift your hand and push it back into place, letting him catch your wrist and bring his lips down to your knuckles, tenderly kissing them as he brings your hand back down to your lap.

He trails his calloused fingers against your cheekbone slowly, dipping them over your jawline as tingles rush down your spine. His fingers feel electric, magnetic, like a current flowing through your insides.

His eyebrows knit together in concentration and he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, letting it linger as he stares soulfully down to your lips, letting his honey eyes pull back up to yours.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he asks quietly, a dazed expression meeting his eyes as the words come out warm, almost loving.

You nod up at him slowly. “You make me feel beautiful, Joel. You.”

He stares at you for another minute, eyes flicking between your lips and then back into your eyes. This time he holds your gaze, his eyes shifting into something you’ve never seen before. Something new, something exciting, uncharted territory.

You get lost in his gaze, exploring every warm fleck of sunlight that captures his brown irises. You watch the light brown flecks turn to warm honey colors as they seem to mix in with the darker brown shades of his eyes. You swear you can see whole galaxies in those eyes, can see yourself etched into the crevices that mix to make sunlight and splashes of amber painted together. You think you see your whole future in his eyes, can hear his irises calling your name like that’s where you belong, can feel yourself mixed together in the blood that keeps his beating heart alive, can taste the promise of forever in his arms. Like home is in his eyes, in his mind, in his heart, in his spirit, in his entire being. And you know that this is more than just infatuation and attraction. It’s more than chemistry, more than just a fling. It’s love, it’s pure undeniable love.

You see the way his eyes grow wide, see his lips curl up into the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen before. You see he realizes it now, too. He feels it just as much as you do, feels the irrevocable pull that ties him to you, sees the girl of his wildest dreams. And that girl is you. It’s you.

He says your name slowly, quietly as he brushes a curl behind your ear and drags his fingers down your jawline, stopping right on your cheek as he traces slow strokes against your soft skin. And you know it’s coming, can see it in those dreamy eyes of his that you so desperately long to see every single day.

“I love you…” The words wash slowly off his lips as those three words send a wildfire running down your veins, coating your insides with warmth and longing that you’ve never felt before. He loves you. He loves you.

You wipe away a tear that pulls at your waterline, letting your smile take over your giddy features as you reach your hand up and run it through his salt and pepper scruff, getting lost in his touch, his scent, his everything. For this moment is raw, real, so very authentic.

“And I love you, Joel Miller. So much. So very much. How’d I get so lucky?” you choke out as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours as the flames ignite together.

The kiss is messy, passionate, everything you ever wanted after the sweetest love confession of your life. You let him bury his hands in your hair, let him inside your mouth as he slots his tongue up against yours, getting completely lost in his taste, his smell, his passion.

You know now that he burns for you just as much as you burn for him. Two flames consuming the other until there’s only one left. Twin flames that burn bright together. And it’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed.

Joel Miller is it for you. He’s the only one that can set your soul on fire like this. The only one you want to set you on fire. And so you let him burn in your presence, consume you until you’re nothing but a flame that only burns for him. He’s your constant, your person, your everything.

When you finally part lips and find the parking lot almost empty, Joel starts the truck up and puts it in drive, leaving one hand tangled in yours as your fingers connect like webs. Your head stays in his lap as your eyes close partially, letting the hum of the truck and his calloused fingers sing you to sleep. You’re going back home. Not to your parent’s place, but to his. That’s where you belong, where you want to stay. With him. Because he is your home.

He’s home.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller pedro pascal #soft!joel miller #soft joel miller #pedro pascal #daddy’s best friend mr. miller #dbf joel miller #dbf!joel #lots of fluff #fluff and smut #joel being in love #no outbreak!joel miller #no use of y/n #need him so bad #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us joel

[mccn-bcys]

Je T'aime

prompt: Love Note pairing: steven grant + gn!reader summary: you've been the best thing to ever happen to steven. He loved doing so much cheesy love things with you, even writing little love notes and letters. warning: light angst, steven being a cutie, steven speaking a little french, fluff word count: 1.2 K author's note: this is my second work for the Moon Knight Bingo hosted by @moonknight-events. the bingo board will be at the bottom of my fics for it. This one is a little short, but it's sweet and I just love steven grant so I hope you all enjoy this! As always, if you like it, please, please, please reblog to share it with your friends! also i'm starting my tag list over so if you'd like to be tagged in future fics for specific characters or for this event or for all fics, tell me in my asks and I'll add you to the list!

Steven Grant has always been a romantic. It’s in his DNA, he’s convinced. He loves the idea of love, the idea of unashamedly showing and professing the love that you feel to the person you feel it for. He’s proud to admit that he has seen just about every rom-com out there. He never misses a new Hallmark movie – yes, he knows the acting isn’t good, and that they’re cheap and silly, but they’re reliable. Love always prevails in them.

Sure, there’s probably a reason that Steven has a romantic heart. If he had to guess, he’d probably say it comes from his relationship with his mother. I mean, Steven was born from Marc’s lack of love from his mother; Steven was there to see all the good times with Wendy, he got to experience all the love from his mother, while Marc took all the times she didn’t love. Perhaps Steven liked the idea of someone loving them unconditionally. Perhaps it was the very concept that someone could love them both, that one of them wouldn’t have to take the bad days, or the days that lacked love, because there wouldn’t be days that lacked love.

Perhaps that’s what made Steven fall in love with you so quickly. Because from the start, he knew you would love all of them, not just one part of them. Even if there were bad days, or hard days, you were still here, showing that you still loved them. It was mind-altering, especially for Marc. But for Steven, it meant the world.

Especially, because now he had someone to express all his love to, someone who appreciated all the ways Steven liked to show his love, no matter how cheesy or silly they were. You adored everything he did.

Steven knew you kept all his gifts. They were in a box in your closet. It was full of date receipts, jewelry, drawings, poems, and all other things he’d gifted you throughout your relationship. One thing that he could never find was all the love notes he left for you. You always say you love them, but he never sees them anywhere. And even though he knows you would never do such a thing, the bad part of his brain wonders if you throw them away, or if you tuck them away and forget about them.

That is until one day. You were in the shower while he was combing through your bookshelf, seeing if you had any new books for him to read. And there’s a book he doesn’t recognize. Have you always had this book? It looks almost like a binder, like a notebook that’s meant to pass as regular book. Should he open it? He supposes it couldn’t hurt. If you didn’t want anyone to read it, you wouldn’t leave it out. And even if he isn’t supposed to read it, he’ll take the blame for nosing around.

Pulling it from the shelf, he flips it open, seeing that there’s pages but they each have sheet protectors on them. Pulling out his glasses, he reads the first page, and he realizes what this is. Thumbing through the rest of the pages, he looks and sees the rest of the protected pages in the book.

His love notes.

You had all of them, sitting on your bookshelf, protected in this little book. Emotion wells in his eyes as he reads them over, feeling relief flood through him as he now knows you did like them, you kept all of them, and you kept them on your bookshelf for anyone and everyone to find it and read it.

“Took you long enough to find it,” your voice sounds from behind him, making him slam the book shut and whirl around, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“What?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t found that before now. Figured it would be the first thing you read when you started reading my books,” you chuckle, walking over to him, your wet hair framing your face as you’re wrapped in a towel. You must’ve used him soaps, he can smell it.

“What do you mean?”

“I left that book out for a while for you to find. On the table, the nightstand, almost everywhere. But you never mentioned it, so I figured you never looked at it. It figures that you’d find it as soon as I put it on the bookshelf.”

Steven didn’t really have any words, wasn’t sure what to say. He just looked down at the book, reading over the words that he had written to you.

“You kept them,” he says softly. It’s not really a question since he can clearly see that you did. But you answered anyways.

“Of course, I did.”

“Why?” he finds himself asking. Obviously, it was because you loved him. But he can’t keep himself from asking, as if the notion baffles him.

On some level it does baffle him. The letters themselves are silly, elementary. But still you kept them, even though anyone else would not have wanted to keep such childish things.

“Because you wrote them. You took the time to write down the way you felt. Because they’re from you,” you said like it was simple. Because, to you, it was simple. You loved Steven, so you wanted to keep every little thing he gave you.

He looked at you softly for a moment, just looking at you. What did he do to deserve someone like you?

“What?” you ask softly.

“Nothing, love, just… thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

“Funny, I think that same thing every time I read those letters,” you chuckle, slipping your arms around his waist.

“Every time? What do you mean?”

“I read them a lot. Mostly at night before I go to sleep,” you admit.

“Really? Why?”

You looked at him with a curious glance, but you looked so patient and amused. “Because they’re from you. They make me feel loved and comforted. They make me think of you.”

Steven’s chest tightens with emotion. Slowly, he slips his glasses off his nose and puts them back in his shirt pocket, placing the book back on the shelf as he slips his arms around your towel covered body, and he just looks at you.

“Je t'aime plus que tout,” he whispers softly as he brushes a wet strand of hair from your face to behind your ear. His heart squeezes when he sees the way you smile brightly at him. He knows that you love when he speaks French, you’ve always found it romantic and beautiful.

“I love you too, Steven,” you murmur back, leaning in to kiss him softly, which he gladly returns. When you pull back you grin and give his ass a playful squeeze. “Now go take your shower so we can read together before we go to sleep.”

“You got it, love,” he smiles wide, giggling softly as he pulls away to walk to the bathroom.

It’s still steamy in the bathroom from your hot shower, the mirror clouded over with steam. Except for the spot wiped in the center of the mirror, where Steven’s face fits perfectly in, and the words that had been written in your handwriting and Steven realizes you had left him your own love note:

Steven, You Are So Beautiful, Inside And Out. Je T’aime.

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

tag list: @moonknight-events @toracainz @marc-spectorr @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight @luvpedropascal @missdictatorme

#moon knight #moon boys #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #moonknightbingo #moonknightevents #love letters #french speaking #steven grant x you #steven with a v #steven grant fic #mr knight x reader #mr knight

[nocturnest]

Tangerine on his way to beat up anyone who hurts Y/n or makes her cry shshs

@kpopgirlbtssvt your asks are always so on point and wonderful! i love your ideas! 🥹💖 also this gif is *chef's kiss* 👌🏻 mr. 🍊 will protect you!

"Love, are you home?"

Tangerine closed the front door, grocery bags in hand. He was eager to see you as you had been at work all day. Tangerine didn't have any upcoming jobs for at least a week, so he was aching to spend as much time with you as he could in your shared apartment.

It was quiet, though. Too quiet. Usually, music from your record player could be heard in the background or you'd be humming a tune in the kitchen as you cooked. But, no. All he heard was silence. He dropped the bags in his hands and made his way down the main hall, his thoughts spiraling.

What if something had happened to you? What is someone had taken you?

He heard a sniffle coming from the living room. As he entered, Tangerine's jaw immediately tightened as he watched you wipe the tears from your eyes, your face contorted in pain. He'd come home to find you curled up on the couch, shoulders shaking with barely contained sobs. The sight of your anguished expression had immediately set his blood boiling.

"What happened, love?" he asked, concerned voice low and laced with barely-contained fury, "Who did this to you?"

You hesitated, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. "It's nothing, really. Just some jerk at work being an asshole."

Tangerine's fingers clenched into fists at his sides as he listened to your explanation. Someone had dared to upset you, to make his precious love cry, and that was completely unacceptable.

"The fuck did he do?" he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Tell me."

You winced at the barely-contained rage in his voice, hating to see him this worked up. "It's really not a big deal, Tan. He was just...making some rude comments, that's all."

"Rude comments?" Tangerine scoffed, his jaw tightening. "Bullshit. Nobody gets to talk to my girl like that and get away with it."

He started pacing the room, mind racing with all the ways he could make that bastard pay. No one hurt the person he loved most in this world and lived to tell the tale.

"Tell me his name," he demanded, turning to face you. "I'm gonna make sure he never goes near you again."

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Tan, please, it's not worth it. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Tangerine let out a humorless laugh. "Trouble? Love, you've got it all wrong. This prick is the one who's gonna be in trouble if he ever so much as looks at you sideways again."

Before you could protest further, Tangerine was out the door, a storm of rage and vengeance on a collision course with the unfortunate culprit.

It didn't take him long to track down the man responsible - a slimy, arrogant coworker of yours who had been making snide comments and belittling you for weeks. Tangerine didn't bother with pleasantries, confronting the man head-on in the parking lot after work.

"Oi, you!" he growled, striding up to the unsuspecting target. "You got a problem with my girl, is that it?"

The man sneered, unintimidated by Tangerine's imposing presence. "Your girl? She's nothing but a-"

He never got to finish that sentence. Tangerine's brass knuckles connected with his jaw with a sickening crack, sending the man reeling backward. Before he could even regain his footing, Tangerine was on him again, raining down blows with a fury born of his fierce, all-encompassing love for you.

By the time Tangerine was done, the man was a bloody, whimpering mess on the pavement. Tangerine stood over him, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a dangerous glint.

"You ever come near her again, and I'll fucking end you," he spat, voice dripping with venom. "You hear me?"

The man nodded weakly, cowering in fear. Tangerine sneered in disgust, turning on his heel and stalking back home, his knuckles already starting to throb.

When he walked through the door, you were waiting for him, eyes wide with a mix of concern and awe.

"Tan... what did you do?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Tangerine pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. "I took care of it, love. Nobody gets to hurt you and get away with it. Not on my watch."

You wrapped your arms around him, heart swelling with a fierce, sense of adoration. In that moment, you knew that Tangerine would always be there to defend you, no matter the cost. And that knowledge filled you with a sense of unwavering security and an undying love for him.

@little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @j23r23 @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud hope you guys enjoy!

#bullet train #bullet train movie #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine fanfiction #x reader #self insert #i am feral for this man and not sorry #please love me mr. tangerine #pleease protect me

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

YOU ARE SO WRONG YOU STUPID TWINK. GET FORESHADOWED IDIOT.

#thousands of fanfiction authors and also Mr. Robinson and Mr. Siddig: Oh Yes You Are Too Going To Cardassia ^_^ #to be fair this is from back in s4 from uhhh that episode where Kira brings Ziyal back to DS9 that I just watched and already forg--OH WAIT #RETURN TO GRACE that's it #garashir #Starky's Original Posts #tbh I also love postcanon fics where Julian doesn't go to Cardassia and he and Garak end up somewhere else though I know it's not #nearly as popular #I think it actually makes perfect sense for Julian to end up on Cardassia entirely independent of his relationship with Garak #I just like also exploring an ending where Garak doesn't get to (or; gasp; even maybe CHOOSES not to) go back to Cardassia #cause I feel like there's a variety of reasons that would/could happen! #does anybody else have a fondness for some nonstandard garashir endgame settings #Star Trek: Deep Space 9 #god Starfleet Spouse Garak is so funny to me. and bittersweet and fascinating and triumphant in a way!!! but mostly so so so funny.

[redhead-and-proud]

My fellow Limoreau brethren, my like-minded Jordan and Marie appreciators. I have a fanfic proposal for you all...

How would you feel about a pride and prejudice style au? Marie = Lizzy, Jordan = Darcy (Jordan would obvs still have the power to switch)

#gen v #jordan li #marie moreau #jordan and marie #limoreau #mr bingley and jane could either be emma/sam or cate/luke #andre for wickham maybe?? #i have so many thoughts in my head #but just the angst and pining and passionate hate turned love would be perfect for limoreau #please validate my vision and tell me im not crazy #fanfic #gen v fanfiction

[mynonah]

For Falling For You by bitbybit (puttingittogether), @bitbybitwrites ' lovely universe <3

#i hope you like it #:) #falling for you #thank you again for this awesome secret santa gift #i loved it! #bitbybitwrites #doctor!blaine #florist!kurt #tracy anderson-lopez #blaine anderson-lopez #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #boutonniere #klainesecretsanta2023 #(this is a circle) #klaine #mr. kurt #mr. flower man #klaine fic rec #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #READ IT #so many tags #klaine fanart #klaine art #glee art #myno's stuff #i won't lie it was soooooo much work omg #thank you esilher for all the support and for being my brain when mine just gave up the fight :))

[natalievoncatte]

This isn’t really a ficlet. It’s more of a screen test. If I like it and you like it, this might be my next project after my SCBB fic is done. I’ll start posting excerpts of that soon!

CW: Mentions of death and dying, and loss.

Of all the things to kill Lena Luthor, it was a heel shearing off her shoe. It wasn’t even a proper high heel, just a two inch rise on a pair of rather stately shoes from a designer of no particular note. Lena had since passed on the Louboutins, and had long adopted more conservative cuts for her suits and dresses. She’d given up her title as CEO decades ago and now fulfilled the role of director emeritus of L-Corp’s research and development division.

It had been a good life, except for one glaring exception. She’d cured over twenty types of common cancers, developed vaccines, and almost personally reversed global warming. She had only one regret as the heel sheared off her shoe and she went tumbling down the stairs to the floor of the L-Corp lobby.

Curiously, she was only dimly aware of the pain. It was something distant, like it was happening to someone else. She heard more than felt a crushing blow to her hip and when the marble rushed up to fill her vision, the world simply went explosively white and the only thing she felt was cold.

The world stayed white, which had perplexed her. Lena had never believed in any sort of life after death, even though she had a vague sense of the supernatural. Her mother was rumored to be a witch in the Irish village where she grew up, and she’d been told as much when she visited as an adult to seek out her roots. She expected, well, nothing. Not even an awareness that there was nothing, just an absence. As she grew older, on those nights when her mortality came crashing down around her in the fitful depths of the early morning when sleep rejected her, she would rationalize death as simply not having to get up tomorrow.

She did not expect to find herself standing in her old office, the one from a lifetime ago. Her stark minimalist desk dominated the room. Without knowing why, she ran the pads of her fingers along its cool length, a ghost of a sad smile dusting her lips.

The sofa was there, too. She could barely bring herself to look at it. After Kara’s betrayal, she had disposed of it thoroughly and rearranged the office. She’d eventually be driven out of the room entirely by grief and settled into another office on a lower floor and began spending more time at home, but the penthouse gave her no solace, either, and she ended up selling it and ultimately moved the research and development department back to Metropolis and worked there.

Lena’s breath caught at the sight of a familiar photograph on one of her bookcases. She took it in trembling hands, knowing then that this must be an illusion or a dream, because she’d smashed the frame and shredded this photograph in her own two fingers.

It was her and Kara, faces pressed together and grinning, their eyes so radiant with joy that it burned Lena’s heart to see and she immediately hurled it across the room, hurling it at a vase of rare plumerias that Kara had brought for her, leaving behind a full belly and a soaring heart.

A hand plucked it casually from the air and set it on an end table near the sofa. Lena stood her ground, though her legs began to tremble.

Standing in her office was a man she didn’t know, dressed smartly in a black suit that would have been in fashion all those years ago. He had a curiously calm air about him, reserved and almost peaceful.

“Who are you?” said Lena. “I’m dead, right? Are you God? The Devil?”

“I am not a god, nor am I one of the true immortals, though it is said that in strange æons, even death may die.”

“Then who are you?”

“My name is Mxyzptlk. Kara might, perhaps, have told you of me.”

“No.”

He snorted softly.

“Typical. I am a very long lived being, Lena Luthor. My kind measure our lives in eons, and as a wise human once said, a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. For the last ten thousand years, I have been a troublemaker and an imp. Now I shall be something else. I have decided I shall be grand and wise.”

“What does that have to do with me?” said Lena.

“Not you. Kara. I still owe her a debt, and I must balance myself before I truly transition into my next iteration. I am here to balance that debt.”

“How?”

“By giving you the opportunity to give love one last chance.”

“I was never in love with-“

“Do not lie to me.”

Lena took a half step back, grabbing the desk for balance. Mxyzptlk took a few steps closer.

“I am as far beyond you as you are beyond an ant, the very forces of chaos and entropy heed my command. All time is an open book to me. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you never married because you were hoping they Kara would stop giving you space and time to heal like you said you wanted, but never did.”

“How dare you? You don’t-“

“What Kara did to you, the way she manipulated her identities to confuse you, was cruel. Lying to you for so long was cruel.”

“Then why should I take you up on whatever this is?”

“A do-over. You’ll go back with your memories intact. You’ll have the chance to set right what once went wrong, and so will she. Or you can avoid her entirely and seek happiness elsewhere. You can leave National City behind or refuse her lunch invitations or whatever it is you think you wish you’d done. I’m not here to force you to love her. I’m giving you another chance, in truth, on her behalf. One she would pigheadedly refuse out of some misplaced sense of morals or decency.”

“Have you offered this to her?”

“No. Where she has gone now, I cannot follow. I can’t even show you where she is: her god has taken her home to his warm light. She rests in the lush fields of a prehistoric Krypton she never knew, spending eternity with her family. Rao has even used his strength and purpose to talk Mother Sol into allowing the Danvers into his domain.”

Lena’s voice cracked. “What?”

“Kara passed earlier today on Argo, from old age and cumulative injuries from her time as Supergirl, without a yellow star to protect her from them.”

“It sounds like she’s happy,” said Lena, turning away. “I… I still want her to be happy.”

“Rao is a bold god, a strong and protective one, but he is an honest lord. He does not give her the gift of forgetting, and perfect memory of love lost can be make a hell of heaven.”

“She loved me?”

“As much as you loved her. Enough to let you go.”

Lena’s hands began to shake. “It’s been so long. How-“

There was a knock at the door. Lena jumped, almost falling.

Mxyzptlk flashed to her side, crossing the space without moving.

“Choose now.”

“Who’s out there?”

“I don’t know. Whoever has the strongest claim over your soul, I suppose. You must choose now; to delay a true god is beyond even me.”

Lena swallowed, hard.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The world went mad. Everything was spinning, and trying to throw her stomach out of her body through her nose. The acrid smell of jet fuel and burning electronics stung her nose. The pilot beside her was unconscious.

And then…

The spinning slowed, and she was no longer falling. A gentle sense of lift raised her into the air, the city falling away from the cracked glass in front of her. Very gently, the helicopter came to rest on the roof, and she glimpsed a familiar figure in a cape and skirt, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. There was a gust of wind that rocked the chopper and ice crystals crawled over the glass, crackling in the National City sunshine.

Then, she was there. Kara tore the door loose in a single, fluid motion and climbed inside, pausing to check the pilot, peering through flesh and bone to asses his injuries.

Then she looked at Lena.

Kara’s breath caught, and her pupils blew wide. Kara stared at Lena like she was something knew, unknown and wondrous, the edges of her lips curling just so despite the self serious tone as she asked if Lena was okay.

It was her. Alive, here, now. Lena couldn’t help herself; she lifted a trembling hand to cup Kara’s soft cheek, without thinking. Her throat nearly closed and no words escaped her lips. She just felt that warm, soft skin and stared right back into Kara’s otherworldly eyes, savoring the tickle of Kara’s loose honey curls slipping over the back of her hand.

“Miss Luthor,” Kara said. “Your heart is racing. We’d better get you an ambulance.”

“You saved me,” Lena whispered.

“That’s what I do,” said Kara, winking at her.

Lena almost died again.

#supergirl #supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #angst #heavy angst #we have to hurt our precious babies before we make them feel better #why can’t we give love one more chance #might expand beyond a ficlet #angst with an eventual happy ending #sad lena luthor #mr mxyzptlk

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike's Choice CH5 PT11 (end)

Alright! It's the end of Chapter Five! And it only took almost a full year to finish! :D I hope you guys enjoyed! I have chapter six and the one shots all lined up and ready so stay tuned! :)

Warnings: Angst! Loads of it!! The kind that grips at your heart and leaves ya breathless. Oh yeah. That's the stuff. Also the classic cliffhanger that may make you want to kill me! :D

(Chapter Five (Kiro and Youran) Prologue and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten can be found here~)

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D))

(((And here is the Masterpost to the whole story for anyone who would like to dive into different parts of the adventure!!)))

Chapter Five:

Part Eleven:

“I don’t know.” Kiro worriedly tapped at his plate with his chopsticks, messing with the crumbs still left on his plate, “She’s been in there a while.”

“You think I should check on her?” Youran gripped at her dress from under the table, nervously looking at her plate of uneaten food, “The food is getting cold.”

“No need.” I made them both jump as I approached the table.

“Ike!” They both said, moving to stand.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” I waved them off and sat back down in my seat, “I’ve just been fighting this awful headache lately. I must just be taking on too much work. I think I’ll take tomorrow off.” 

“Good idea.” Kiro said, sitting back down in his seat, “Wouldn’t want you dying of stress on us.” I chuckled weakly and picked up my chopsticks. A hand appeared from next to me and held my left hand. I looked up and met Youran’s eyes. 

“Are you sure that’s all?” She asked. A calm came over my head, quenching the pain that had been nearly insufferable just moments ago. I booped her nose with my chopsticks.

“You worry too much.” I smiled, pulling my hand from hers, “Some food will probably do me some good. I’ll be healthy in no time.” With no room for discussion, I made my plate.

>>>

We all slumped over, sighing in relief as we finally finished our food. “I’ll get this one.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket. 

“No!” Kiro and Youran yelled. I froze.

“Why? Did the way I ate the food insult you or something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Youran laughed, “You just always pay for things with us. Every time I have coffee with you, I feel like I have to wrench the bill out of your hands!”

“That happened at Souvenir too!” Kiro gestured to me and rolled his eyes, “We hadn’t even gotten our bills yet and she was on it.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard people getting angry over me treating them for a meal.” I scoffed.

“I’ll pay this time.” Youran said, standing up, “Kiro can get it the next time! Then we can rotate!”

“Sounds good!” Kiro beamed. I rolled my eyes and put my wallet back in my back pocket. But Youran’s words echoed in my mind. 

Next time… 

My stomach twisted uncomfortably but I ignored it as Youran giggled. “Then it’s settled!” She beamed, “I’ll be right back!”

“Alright,” I slumped back in my chair, “Thanks, Youri.” Youran smiled sweetly then paused as she thought of something. Before I could ask, her smile blossomed as she gasped. 

“Ike! I keep forgetting to tell you!” She excitedly said, sitting back down in her chair as she tugged on my arm, “I have a nickname for you!” My eyebrow twitched.

“Is that so?” I nonchalantly said, “And what is it?”

“How do you like, 

“Marie?”

An overwhelming peace came over my heart as images of my childhood came crashing to my senses. Images of a field of grass, an old rusty room, but ;more importantly; images of one little girl, running around carelessly, humming a familiar tune.

She was smiling.

“... Ike?” Youran egged, tugging once again on my arm, bringing me back to my senses, “Is Marie ok? I can change it if you-”

“No.” My voice cracked as I quickly cut Youran off. I cleared my throat and sat up, “Marie… Marie’s perfect.” Youran smiled brightly. Before I could stop her, she threw her arms around my neck and squeezed tightly. 

“Yay!!” She cheered, “Marie it is!!” I patted her arm lightly, cringing at my lack of self control. You moron. Accepting a nickname now? Do you realize what you’ve just done?

After a moment, Youran pulled away from me, still smiling. Before I could take anything back, she quickly turned and made her way to the front desk. I watched Youran as she left. The knot in my stomach pushed it’s way up my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t do this…

“You and Youran get along really well.” Kiro spoke softly to me. I kept my eyes on Youran at the front desk as I nodded, “How long have you two known each other?”

“...Almost a month now.”

“Really? It seems like you two have been friends for longer then that.”

“It surprises me too.” I said softly, watching Youran laugh with the cashier over an unheard joke.

“... I’ve never seen you act like this before.”

“Like what?”

“So gentle. Like, Youran makes you... soft.”

The knot in my chest tightened even further. I hummed my response to Kiro as I pulled my eyes from Youran and back to the table. Despite everything that told me not to, I had to do this. If I didn’t, who knows what might happen?... who might get hurt?...

>>

 Kiro, Youran, and I made our way to our cars. Since Youran had lived close by, Youran and Kiro both decided to walk together. I happily accepted it. I don’t think I could drive alone with her…

They waved goodbye to me, walking heavily layered in the foggy night into the city. I waved back, holding a soft smile as I did so. I watched them as they turned and walked away, talking and laughing together. My smile faded gradually as she disappeared, walking far enough away now that she wouldn’t hear if I had called her name. I leaned against my car, watching my hot breath clearly as it steamed from my mouth and disappeared in that cold autumn’s air. I buried my head further in my jacket as doubts swirled in my mind. 

As much as you may think that it may help, it won’t. 

Youran’s the queen. She can take care of herself.

And what if she can’t?

… she’s got Kiro. And Victor. And Gavin. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t already have Lucien too.. She doesn’t... need... me.

I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts. Whatever destiny Black Swan has for us, they can’t have if we aren't together. If all I’ve done is put the people I cared about in danger...  

I stopped scrolling when I hit Youran’s contact info. Her name almost seemed to pop out of the device and etched itself in my mind. I don’t have to be with her to protect her… She will be safe. That brown haired child’s smile flashed in my mind. I sighed, and clicked the ‘edit’ button next to her name. I erased it and wrote “Youri” in it’s place, then hit save. 

Satisfied with the change, 

I blocked her.

>>>

A day had passed since I had cut ties with Youran. I delved into my work, telling the guard that Victor had assigned me to only let Bart, Minor, Victor, and whomever I had an appointment with in my office. No exceptions. This had started off swimmingly, letting me focus on my work while what doubts I held in my head. It all was just fine… until there was a knock on my door that afternoon.

“Come in.” I droned. 

I was slumped over and nose deep in a progress report from one of our filming stations, paying no attention to the person knocking. The door opened then there was a pause. I sighed, “Minor, if this is you telling me that you’re worried again, I swear I’ll pour the rest of this coffee over your head.”

“... It’s not.” The familiar, cold tone, made me jump slightly. I looked up and met Victor’s eyes. He was standing tall by my door, one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket, his usual poker face in full effect. I immediately straightened my posture. I hadn’t seen Victor in a month. He had been on a business trip and, me being busy with the show and… Youran... I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him.

“Oh!” I cleared my throat, slightly flustered, standing from my desk politely, “Victor! You’re back from Dubai! I apologize for my behavior. Was there a problem with the report I sent in?" Victor stood in the door for a moment, looking me up and down. Then, he hummed and approached my desk.

“You seem busy.” He picked up one of the files on the desk and inspected it. I quickly snatched it from him.

“Hey, now.” I brushed it off and placed it back down on it’s correct pile, “I’ve got things organized here for a reason. Last thing I need to happen is mix up the Miracle Writer prop list with Show Me the Honey’s. Chaos would break loose.” 

Victor folded his arms. “Have you gone to lunch yet?” He asked seriously.

“Don’t need to. Too busy. I’ll just have a big dinner later. Now,” I looked back up at Victor, already picking up the file I was previously working on, “is there something you needed from me or may I get back to work?” There was a pause as Victor looked at me with a strange look. I didn’t get a chance to ask as Victor reached out and took the file from my hands. I scoffed and tried to take it back. He pulled it away from me, holding it out of my reach. Annoyance flooded my body. Victor arched his eyebrow.

“Someone is here to see you.” He said, tucking the folder under his arm.

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed, folding my arms and pursing my lips, “and he won’t let me do my work.”

“Not me.” Victor moved, “Her.” I looked over to the door and froze. Youran was standing there, timidly waiting and nervously smiling. She wore a gray suit with a pencil skirt that lay just above her knees. Her hair up in a ponytail while light makeup brushed her face. My breath hitched in my throat.

Youran waved at me. I didn’t move. “She told me she tried to visit you but the guard wouldn't let it in anyone without an appointment.” Victor inspected my face as I stared at Youran, “She also said you weren’t answering your phone. So, figuring there was some problem with communication, I let her in.” Victor looked inside the file he took from me then placed it on top of one of the piles on my desk. “I’ll leave you to it.” With that, Victor left the room.

As he walked past Youran, she let herself in, closing the door behind her. “Marie!” She smiled, eyebrows knitted slightly, “I haven’t been able to reach you on your phone for some reason. It might be acting up again.” A sharp pain shot through my chest as Youran sat in front of me.  “I wanted to ask how your headache was doing! I have a scientist friend who gave me some remedies for migraines. And he’s a good source so you should try them!” The pain grew as she talked. Even after I blocked her, avoided her, and made it nearly impossible for her to see me. She still ended up in front of me. Talking as if nothing happened. Blaming everything else but me for the troubles. I looked down at my desk, mixed emotions pushing through my heart. 

She came back to you, They said, This is a sign. Unblock her. She’s only safe with you! She wants to be safe with you!

“Marie?” Youran asked softly, pulling my eyes back to her, “...What’s wrong?” She doesn’t blame you. Just say you lost your phone. You can have her back! She can be with you again! She would be safe again. 

I sighed, tapping my finger lightly on the desk. Youran opened her mouth to speak. I cut her off. “I’m sorry, Youran.” My tone was tactless and cold, “I’m afraid I can’t meet with you right now. If you would like to talk to my assistant about times where I am open, feel free to do so.” 

“‘Youran?’” Youran laughed nervously, “What happened to Youri?” The pain in my chest grew even more intense. I didn’t let it phase me.

“These are my business hours, Youran.” I walked around my desk and to the door, “I must keep this professional.”

“O-okay.” Youran stood up and followed me to the door, “Then, when are you open? Are we still ok for coffee on Monday?” I froze, hand held over the door handle. My heart felt as if it were about to burst in agony. Every fiber of my being screamed to accept her words but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her mindlessly control me anymore. Even if it was unintentional. 

Keeping my back to her, I said the words I should have said the night before.  The words I hoped to avoid. The words that kept me up every night I was away from her, 

“Youran, I think we should keep things between us purely professional.” 

And, just like that, everything was silent.

Youran was speechless. But not for long.

“Wh-why?” She walked up to me quickly and tugged at my sleeve, bringing my eyes to her, “Was it something I did? Something I said??” She gasped, “Was it because I didn’t let you pay for the meal?? Marie, I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t do anything.” I turned around and opened the door to the office. 

“Then why?” Youran panicked, “This is so sudden!”

“Youran.” I tried pulling her hands off of me, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Marie, I need-”

“Youran!” I boomed, shutting Youran up immediately, “...Please. I need to get back to work.” Youran stood there, breathing hurriedly. After a long, tedious moment, she let go of my arm.

Epilogue:

Youran frowned at her phone. The last texts she sent were lingering, unread, on her screen.

Hey! You’re still up for dinner tonight, right?

I’m really in the mood for hotpot. Is that ok with you?

I know you had a shoot today and I don’t want to bother you. Just let me know!

But it had been 2 hours and Ike still hadn’t texted back. Normally, Youran would leave that be but her and Ike had been talking nonstop for a week. They clicked immediately and would spend every moment together. Ike was also super good at making sure Youran knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk and for how long. Ike had also told her that the sights for the shooting had changed, so she had to have service. This behavior was off for her. 

Those unread texts didn’t matter as soon as Youran’s taxi pulled up to the studio and she saw the police cars and fire trucks parked outside of it.

She quickly stepped out of her taxi, quickly payed the driver, then ran to the building. She grabbed the knob to the front door, panic overwhelming her senses. Please let her be ok. Youran repeated over and over in her head, Please don’t let it be Ike.

“Youran.” A voice called from behind her, stopping Youran in her place. She whipped around and saw Gavin approaching her.

“What-..?” They both asked at the same time.

“I-” They tried again. Youran shook her head and ran to the officer’s side.

“What happened?” She hurriedly asked, sparing no time for games. 

“I got a call for a incident in the studio.” Gavin said, a tone of seriousness settling on his tongue, “Apparently, two people fell through the flooring.”

“Why would you be called in for something like that?” Youran asked,  “Can’t the firefighters just get them out?” 

“Foul play has been suspected from events that led up to the incident. One including a mishap with a light. It had fallen right above one of the actors. Upon further inspection by the crew, it seemed as if someone had cut the wire.” 

Youran gasped. “Is the actor ok?!” She asked quickly.

“He was shoved out of the way by one of the employees.” Gavin spoke plainly. Youran sighed in relief, “But when they hit the ground, it fell from under them. Sending them to who knows where.” Youran nodded gravely. She looked behind Gavin and at the many police cars behind him.

“Why are there so many police officers here? Is the actor someone important?”

“Very.” Gavin nodded and folded his arms, “He is a top selling artist. But we aren’t just here for him. The second person who fell through the floor is one of the producers of the company who rented the studio."

Youran gulped, "and… which company would that be?"

"... The Ike ‘n Bar Productions company.” 

Youran’s blood ran cold. "Which producer was it?” She quickly asked.

Gavin’s eyebrows furrowed grimmly, “... Ikamara Bikira.”

Youran gasped and clutched her mouth. A feeling of defenselessness crept in her chest. She had only known Ikamara for a week but she felt so close with her. Ike made her feel so safe and Youran didn’t for a moment question the strength she held. But now, what if she had gotten hurt? What if they fell and she broke something?? What if she was in danger?!

Youran’s knees felt weak. Gavin saw this and reached out just in time to catch her.

“Are you ok?” Gavin asked urgently as Youran clung onto his arms. She didn’t answer, her troubled thoughts becoming too much to bear.

“Do you know if she’ll be ok?” Yourang asked meekly, regretting the question as soon as it left her mouth.

“No.” Gavin answered truthfully, “But I promise we will do whatever we can to bring her back safely.” The panic in Youran’s heart settled slightly. Gavin could save her, just like he did for Youran not long ago. “Come on,” Gavin tugged at Youran’s side, “Let’s go back to the patrol cars. I have some water there you can drink.” Youran nodded and followed Gavin away from the studio.

Gavin stayed with Youran, standing outside of the car as Youran sat inside on the passenger seat, sipping on the water Gavin gave her. Eventually, a police officer walked out of the studio. He was holding something in his hands as he scanned the outside. Finally, he locked eyes with Gavin and immediately made his way over to him. Gavin straightened himself and addressed the officer. 

“Officer.” Gavin said, professionally.

“Officer Gavin.” The officer stopped in front of him and nodded politely, “There is still no sign of the missing victims.” Youran’s panic rose again in her chest, “We watched the cameras back and positively confirmed one of the persons as the superstar, Kiro.” Youran gasped from inside the car. “ We also confirmed the destination where they had fallen. So we pried the floor up and… and we found cement.” Gavin and Youran tensed.

“Is there a way for us to get through it?” Gavin asked.

“We have people on their way with the proper tools. In the meantime,” the officer handed Gavin what he had been holding, “This is the producer’s blazer. She had taken it off before he had fallen through. Her phone and wallet are in it, confirming her id as Ikamara Bikira.” Youran’s grip tightened on her water bottle, causing some of the water to spill onto her lap. She paid no mind to it, merely keeping her attention to the blazer. Gavin nodded to the officer.

“Thank you.” Gavin said in a grave tone. The officer nodded and headed back to the studio. Youran stared at the blazer in Gavin’s hand.

“Gavin?” He turned to her, “... May I?” She reached out her hand. Gavin looked down then, realizing what she meant,  gave her the blazer. Youran reached in the blazer pocket and pulled out her phone. She tried opening it… 

then tried again… 

it remained black. 

Youran sighed, holding her knees to her chest as she stared at the blank screen. What if she was in danger? What if she was stuck and needed help out? Kiro was with her. What if they were both stuck and-

Youran shook her head held the blazer to her face in comfort. Ike’s familiar androgynous scent drifted into her nose. An immediate calm came over Youran, making her close her eyes. Ike’s poker face came to mind. The poker face she held reminded Youran of Victor, but Victor never held the amount of gentleness Ike had. Nor the sweetness in her smile… nor the rush of peace that Ike gave her everytime they touched.

A loud bang came from the side of the building next to the studio, followed by the sound of crumbling stone. Youran instantly perked up, looking towards the noise. Gavin held out a hand, stopping her from getting out of the car. He tugged at the radio on his shoulder and started speaking into it. Youran didn’t hear him though, her focus was on the figure that walked out of the alley. It was a woman wearing tattered, dust ridden clothes. The sleeves of her white shirt were torn to shreds, revealing muscly, heavily scarred, arms. She held her hand up against the sun, blocking the light from her blue eyes as she searched the area. Her hair was messily pulled from her ponytail, strands framed her face as she locked eyes with something in the distance. The sight of her made Youran’s eyes water. 

“Ike.” Youran’s whisper caught in her throat. Gavin lowered his hand as he watched Ike as well, his eyes filling with various emotions. A man came up behind Ike, his hand raised as Ike’s was. He caught Youran’s eyes almost immediately. It was Kiro! Youran jumped put of the car with excitement. Kiro smiled and waved as Youran sighed, relieved they were both ok.

Ike finally caught Youran’s eyes. She looked shocked, mouthing something that Youran couldn’t quite read. Suddenly, Ike keeled over, clutching her head in pain. Kiro was quick to move to help her but hesitation stopped him from touching her. Youran thrust the blazer into Gavin’s hands as she ran over to Ike’s side.

“What happened?!” She quickly asked Kiro the moment she was close enough.

“I-I don’t know!” Kiro folded his arms anxiously, “She wouldn’t tell me!” Youran moved to hold Ike’s hand, but stopped as she saw the scars that wrapped around her arms. Ike hadn’t ever worn anything but long sleeves when she was with Youran and she never questioned it. The scars all looked old but Yoruan didn’t want to accidentally hurt her. So instead, she lightly held her hand to Ike’s cheek. 

Immediately, Ike snapped her hand to her’s, holding it tightly and pulling it from her face. Youran jumped. A yelp held it’s place in her throat as they locked eyes. 

Ike’s eyes had changed from their normal, caribbean blue to a dark, crimson red.

They bore a hole into Youran, sending a sense of danger and familiarity crashing into the dark parts of her mind. Sounds that sounded far away to her came reeling into her ears. Sounds of glass smashing, people yelling, sirens going off, and... screaming.

End of Chapter Five:

Next post coming soon~

#ah the angst #it feels good to settle back into my old crown #the angst queen is bACK BABY #mlqc #mr love ikes choice #mr love #mr love fanfic #mlqc fanfic #love and producer #mlqc kiro #mlqc fanfiction #mr love fanfiction #mr love kiro #mr love youran #mlqc youran #ikamara bikira story #ikamara bikira #ike's choice #fanfic #fan fiction

[yourssinfullyquiche]

Morning

Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 SMUT SMUT SMUT— This is an NSFW drabble Hope you enjoy~

The voice he uses when he wakes me. Husky and low. Sometimes it’s due to tiredness, lack of sleep, and work. Other times—most of the time, it’s the knowledge that my body tingles with goosebumps when I hear it close to the shell of my ear.

“Morning…,” he exhales softly against my ear that it tickles. The rough layers reverberate through me, fluttering around in my lower belly. The breath I take in is quick to calm my beating heart yet it is futile when his hand languidly traces the band of my panties over my cream nightgown. The hem has ridden up to my thigh and this does not go unnoticed by officer Gavin’s keen eyes. 

My voice comes out lazily. “Mmm morning.” The band stretches and smacks lightly on my hips as his fingers play with it. I bite the inside of my mouth, guide his naughty hand to my soaking pussy that awaits his fingers and the moan that escapes me is immediate when his fingers slip in and come into contact with the bud of nerves. 

It’s aching when one finger slips in, followed by another. They move without hesitation, those nimble fingers. My toes curl inwards, soft moans of his name escape my lips. Then I feel it, his hardened cock grinding against me, the quivering sighs teasing my ear knowing full well how it shoots sparks straight to my core, that it only serves to make me more hot and wet. 

My body’s on fire and it coils further and further into a tight knot desperately waiting for the inevitable snap that would release me into oblivion. “Almost there,” he whispers as he adds another finger. His lips rest on my temple leaving a few kisses. The couple of moans I let out are the only response he gets. His fingers are unrelenting in their mission, slamming in and out, teasing the bud of nerves—the friction as he rolls his cock to my ass makes me see stars. 

“Ga-gavin...” In my fogged out brains the squelching sounds register—it’s erotic and like a moth drawn to a flame my body responds to it, making me moan louder. The way I am right now—naked, vulnerable, an incoherent mess and on the verge of falling apart, it’s only for his eyes. I aimlessly find something to grip as I near the breaking point, the bedsheet is my victim but it slips away easily. Almost instantly, Gavin’s idle hand envelopes mine, our fingers fill the spaces between. 

“Thank y-ahhhh!” I grip onto his hand as I reach the blinding crest and feel my whole body tremble with overwhelming relief and satisfaction. It takes moments for my body to come down from the high, moments where I’m breathing hard, where Gavin licks his fingers clean, showers me with kisses everywhere he lays his lips on, runs his fingers through my hair with praises from his lips.

I turn to face him, meet his lips in a deep kiss. My hand travels to the obvious bulge, I don’t need to see to know what the dampness means. He shudders with a groan, eyes darting to mine and away from them in a second, hand on my hips bunching the fabric of my nightgown. And of course a red hue dusts his skin, ears in its wonted heavy colour. 

“It’s your turn,” I say softly. He puts his hand over mine, shaking his head. “It’s okay. You have to get ready for work,” he pats my bottom prompting me to leave the bed. Leave him alone as he takes care of himself. Who’s he fooling?

I push his hand away, look into his whiskey eyes that are clearly dilated and hungry and decide I won’t let him deny me the bliss I feel when I satiate his needs. I grip his clothed cock a little harshly and look directly at him when he moans. 

“You want me?”

He starts and swallows, blushes deeper and then nods, dark whiskey eyes never leaving mine. “Answer me,” I move to his jaw and pepper it with kisses. 

“Yes,” Gavin says, his voice tight. 

The kiss is hard and sloppy as my hand slips into his boxer and hold his aching cock.

“Then let me take care of you…”

-

A/N: Thank you for reading❤️

It's been far too long people. I've been busy with college, exams, results and the aftermath of being plunged into "the world." I just graduated and am in the midst of finding a job. It's tough and I've been adjusting to this new normal. So, I haven't had the mood to sit down and let my writing juices flow. But I'm working on something and this is part 1 of a smut series.

AND credits to @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers😚 Everyone if you need dividers to pretty up your posts, please check out the blog~ The creator has some awesome dividers!

© YOURSSINFULLYQUICHE2023 — no part of this writing shall be plagiarised, translated or reposted in any way. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Taglist: @playheej  @purple-cat-demon @rinharu-purple (if you want to join my taglist, please visit my blog and click the link available on my pinned post)

#mlqc gavin #mlqc smut #mlqc #mlqc gavin fanfic #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc gavin fanfiction #mlqc gavin headcanon #love and producer #mr. love queen's choice #mr love queen's choice #mr love queens choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc fluff #mlqc bai qi #mlqc headcanon #mr love fanfic #mr love gavin #mr love #mr love bai qi #quiche writes

[quecksilvereyes]

Sister of Peter, daughter of Eve; how deep is the well in your eyes? If your teacher took a stone and dropped it into your pupils, how long until it makes a sound? If she smiles at you with rouge-dark lips, do you imagine your mouth matched with hers?

Your mother bought weed killer, today, and left the bottle open on the kitchen counter. The garden is a mess, she says. Her petunias, ruined. Her pansies, drained. It has been left untended for too long, and now the roots are too deep in the soil.

As long as there is a root, the rot will come back. Between one blink and the next, it might start devouring the house, instead. So, really, what choice is there but to take a shovel and dig?

Don't touch that, Lucy.

You will stain your little hands. You will make a mess of your mother's counters, and the taste of it won't leave the grooves in your fingertips for months to come. Every tree you touch will be sick with it, white streaks across sapping bark. For days, the smell will cling to your nose.

Didn't you know?

Helen Pevensie's children were left in the wild for too long and now Susan has thorns. Peter has teeth, and Edmund has roots. Lucy drips poison. They have, the four of them, grown into one another as weeds do, too tangled now to dig through their roots and take them from the ground they've claimed.

Daughter of Helen, how deep is the chasm in your lungs? If you tore yourself open, might you fill it with everything that floods from your siblings' palms? Susan curls her hair every morning, and stands straighter now than she ever has. Peter's obedience is an edged thing hung by the corners of his mouth.

Your mother won't let either of them see the paper. Peter's hands are bloodied, most days, and bruised at the knuckles. Fit them, each, underneath your lips. Until your golden brother weeps, his face in your hair, and his hands a shaking mess.

Hold him.

Watch Susan paint rouge on lips too small to hold it. Her hair falls to her shoulders and when she dances, she stumbles. She laughs, then, and it's a heaving, ugly sound that tears itself from her stomach or maybe the muscles in her back that are by now withered. Let her hold you, like this, painted nails dug deep in human flesh that has never seen a dagger. Drink from the crook of her neck each of her sobs.

Watch her file away her thorns.

Edmund drinks honeyed tea like a damned thing put on holy soil for communion. Trembling hands and a blood-red mouth, he has long since stopped pulling on your braids. From the well of your eyes, a sullen boy holds onto his siblings as though they might emerge from school changed to the bones. Cup his face in the hollows of your palms, brush each of his freckles in turn, until the hard line of his throat softens and his mouth goes slack.

Helen, mother of four, brings home turkish delight, heavy with rationed stamps. Watch how the sugar stains Susan's fingers and how it settles on Peter's lips. See the line between Edmund's eyes.

For hours, his breath smells of rosewater.

Oh, Lucy. You valiant woman. You reckless girl. Don't take the weedkiller. Don't pour it down the drain. The garden needs tending, see. So, child of Adam, is there still bone lodged in your chest? Are you, still, more sea than you have ever been girl?

Come, now. Behold your teacher's mouth. Could you fit, still, your needle-teeth around the sharpness of her?

Smile.

Wait.

#tcon #narnia #lucy pevensie #narnia fanfiction #narnia fanfic #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #helen pevensie #mrs pevensie #in which lucy reckons #in which lucy is the well from whence truth comes to shame mankind #sibling relationships #on love #and weeds

[artemisia-black]

The seven names of Mrs Zabini (two-year anniversary)

This fic is still my favorite, and it's two years old.

"There is a reason that Venus herself emerges from her half shell as a fully formed woman, blinking naively into existence. This is what men actually desire, a goddess who knows nothing of the world and so is more easily amused by the trinkets he throws at her. A divine being who is blissfully unaware of her own divinity."

"I had gone to my wedding bed expecting a transformative experience where his penis would alchemise me from a girl into a woman. An expectation I had imbibed from a society that exalts the wonder of the male member."

" I became a cartographer compiling a mental map of my body’s erogenous zones and using it to command my lovers into providing me with rapturous pleasure. Devoting themselves to me like heathens prostrated at the altar of their last rites."

#my writing #mrs zabini #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #this fic is unhinged and I love it #my women's wrongs masterpiece #if i do say so myself

[mermaidgirl30]

Sneak peek of chapter 4 of Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller because I can’t keep y’all waiting 🥹

When he breaks apart his lips from yours, he holds you close to him, not letting you out of his strong grip. Your eyes slide down to the cake with white frosting spread all around the top, some spilling over the corners. You look at it closely, see the way it was so carefully made by hand. And then it dawns on you as shock reaches your spine. He made it.

“So, about the cake. Did you make it?” you ask as your glowing eyes trace up to his, a warm smile growing on his face.

“Mhm. Took me a little bit to get just right, but I think I did pretty good. Strawberry cake with vanilla icing on top. That’s your favorite, right?”

Your eyes widen at the realization. No one had ever made you a cake before that was homemade. And he was so careful to pick out what you liked and what was your favorite. He was quite literally a slice of heaven. Mere perfection in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s my favorite. Joel… thank you. That was so sweet. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble for me,” you say shaking your head, laughing at how stupid you must look for getting emotional over a cake. But it wasn’t just that. It was the effort he always put into you, the way he always cared and tried for you. He showed you every single day how much he cared, and it nearly brought you to your knees every second that you were his.

“‘Course I did, darlin’. It’s your birthday, your special day. The day you turn twenty-six. I wanted it to be extra special. Wanted to do all the things that make you happy.”

You hook your arms around his neck and smile softly up at him. “You make me happy, Joel Miller. You. Just you breathing and in my space is enough to make me happy.”

He tics his jaw, and you can see warmth flood his honeysuckle eyes. The crows feet pulling at the edges of his brown eyes the wider he smiles. It’s absolutely mesmerizing. “That’s you, sweet girl. You make me happy. My precious girl.”

He lowers his lips back down to yours as you envelop his syrupy taste and smell, feel every single muscle in your body burn for him. This is what happiness was supposed to feel like, and you found it with Joel. Joel was your happiness.

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