#pre reveal. of course

[passive-agrestive]

adrien agreste goes on drag race global all stars (after coming in 6th on drag race france two years prior) and manages to hide the fact that he is the son of france's former supervillain for the first three episodes until main-stage-challenged to serve a look based on a superhero from your country of origin. in the werk room the other queens ask him why he's so tense about this challenge (and tired. in unrelated news, astrocat was spotted flying across the atlantic ocean the night prior to deal with a Parisian akuma attack) and eventually he comes out with the fact that his dad was hawkmoth -- after initial shock, he gets his teary-eyed camera moment and everyone hugs him. he ends the episode wearing the most jaw-dropping chat noir inspired look and when marinette watches she gets so horny she throws up

[bklily]

Baking a cookie of her boyfriend because she misses him :( he's only away for a week visiting family

(based on that one draw your ship format on twitter)

[milkybishop]

"- but with whom can you sit in water?"

and who can hop in the bath with you to make a show of not caring about your tattoos, and how can you not find it hard to hide your disdain at the attempt.

because either this is a trap you have blindly walked into again . . . or he really does love you and could have loved you all this time. and despite all that-

you cannot turn from the path that you are on.

[ariadne-mouse]

From the Florida Supercon, re: what the cast is excited for in the assorted animated series-

Matt: I'm excited to explore elements outside of the Mighty Nein's perspective and journey, things that were alluded to, moments between NPCs, and factions, and antagonists, that were just part of the background of my imagination while we were playing the game

Me: neutral evil Essek making bad decisions let's GO

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Im curious - how long have you known Qiqi was gonna be the one to drop the g-word to the gang? was that planned since the beginning or did that happen whilst writing the chapter? it was such an amazing speech i loved it, imo it was the perfect was to reveal it, because lets be real Zhongli is too modest to list off all his titles like that.

ALSO her being like “dont call him Morax its rude >:(“ was just so ahhhh!!!

that was planned from the start yeah, i usually have a couple of scenes written ahead of time and either work up to them or find somewhere to slot them in, depending on what's going on. the qiqi rex lapis rant was of the bunch that had its space reserved so to speak

[puhpandas]

Hii Percy!! I'm curious- what would be your ideal fnaf game after SOTM releases?

HI CHIP!! of course theres so many things I want to see after waiting so long but honestly I think a ggy game is what I'm expecting next. honest to god anything ranging from vanny!cassie to ggy and all the (human and not Cassies dad) characters in between I would be very happy with. it's why I'm so excited for sotm to finally release and end the mimic incorporation era. literally everything else it has left to cover are things that I would love

but yeah I think a ggy game would be absolutely hype and is actually very likely because of the THREE references/easter eggs weve gotten for him in a row!! I'm very excited to see what they're doing for him because damn ggy for Gregory's backstory has gone untouched for so long

I would love to see it explored in a campaign scenario of Gregory himself finding out about it but tbh I'm honestly expecting some prequel game about it that mostly just confirms it exists and expands upon content we dont know about from ggy like Rabs design and how he interacts with vanny. campaign would obviously be so much better for everyone involved but any ggy content is a win in my book

[meltsyoutodeath]

the "somehow redtooth also gets amnesia and washes up with Seven at chicken island" au that I have in my head would be such a banger if I could make it make sense

[marsbotz]

i ship inhun in a way that differwnt and more swagful than anyone else btw.

[fountainpenguin]

Wordcounts for Top 10 Hanahaki Life Hacks chapters 5, 6, 7, and 8! (For a 'fic with a goal of 7k-9k).

Drafts & first round of revisions done for the first three, #8 is still a draft with missing scenes, so I might move some of it around. Proud of me! I can see why I stalled so long here because there are a lot of really tricky scenes, but through the power of stubbornness, we prevail.

After this there are just two more chapters... and then I'm free! Less then 1k words in my drafts for those two, though, unlike the thousands I came back to in the others, so :'D

Coming to an AO3 near you in September.

[1ncandescentrage]

I look forward for when my ear infection is gone. And to continue developing a body and hair ritual out of love.

[madamechrissy]

Meddle About

Choso art is from @aransmind omg all their art is so delicious 😩😩😭 go follow themm

pairings- Tattoo Artist Choso x F! Reader

summary- After a bad breakup, on a whim you decide to go get a tattoo!! You remember Choso from college, he was so hot and mysterious but the two of you never talked. Now, he just happens to be the artist of the shop you randomly walk into. And you quickly learn- tattoos make you horny. Whoopsie!!

warnings- this chap, sexual tension, teasing, smut coming on the next, Choso being hot asf. He's not gonna be submissive in this one sorryy

I was thinking of my last tattoo sesh 🤭🤭 Gonna be drabble style chaps 🫶🫶🖤

part two>>>

part one

You didn't expect to get soaking wet as Choso, your tattoo artist, is running that needle across your upper thigh with precision skill. So focused, biting his plump lower lip as he looks at his work, other hand on your hip as he holds you where he needs you.

You knew Choso from college but the two of you never really hung out, you thought he was gorgeous of course but never spoke up, just focusing on your studies and running on red bull and exhaustion. Seeing him today after a horrible breakup and getting a tattoo on a whim was comforting, you knew him already.

But then his fingers touched you.

Long, thick fingers, black rings on each one, painted black nails that are just a little chipped off. Music is softly playing in the background, and its just the two of you in here, in his shop, while he presses ink into your bare skin. The pain feels so good, you feel your cunt throbbing, hands gripping and ungripping at your sides. You let out a moan and he pauses, looking up under dark lashes, as his lips part just a bit

"You good, honey?" He murmurs thoughtfully, black brows knitted together, worried you were hurt. This was your first tattoo, and you were trembling a little, he's trying to ignore how sexy your thighs are, to be professional, but it's almost impossible.

Hed thought you were so pretty in college but he was sure you never noticed him, and he was too shy back then to approach you. You already knowing his name alone surprised him. Your pretty eyes look at him, they're lidded, lips glossy as you nod just a bit, shifting to get up on your elbows. Your black skirt is slipping up and revealing your panties then, making him swallow nervously. His eyes dart away before he stares too long, but he saw them, soaking light pink fabric that makes his tongue ache to lap you up.

"I'm sorry, fuck this is embarrassing," you whisper now, nervously. "I'm um..."

"Don't be embarrassed, people get um... turned on alot during tattoos." He rubs the back of his neck nervously, you eye how just a lock of hair is falling out of his spiky black bun. You brush back a lock before you can think better, and watch his eyes go almost black, feeling your heart race.

"Don't think it's just the tattoo," your soft whisper makes him ache, hard and leaking pre behind his dark ripped jeans just from that. He pictures pinning you down to this black leather bench, having you cum for him then, just from a brush of your fingers. "I'm not usually this bold, ex did a fucking number on me. I think my brain has been fucked."

"Shit I'm sorry." He's so sweet you don't even think he is interested in more, why are you ovulating right now!? And the break up. And Choso is fucking gorgeous.

To much is working against you, and could your pussy stop dribbling!?!

When he's back to tattooing you, you swallow nervously again, laying back and looking up at the mirror overhead. You see his dark head is right over your lap as he runs the vibrating needles on your inner thigh, the pain so delicious you moan again.

Choso pauses.

"Sorry!" You cover your face in embarassment when he inhales your scent, seeing the trickle of arousal slipping down your inner thigh then, glimmering under the lights. He can’t help but have one of his thumbs slipping across it, bringing it to his lips.

Your eyes widen when you peek through your fingers at him, heart hammering, he looks so fucking hot sucking your wetness off him. He places the tattoo gun down now, standing and leaning over you. Your pulse hammers in your fucking ears when a huge hand presses your thigh apart, and your eyes lock, as he drags your wrists down.

"Choso, sorry I'll stop wriggling around," he shakes his head, as you study his pierced lip, when his tongue runs across it, you catch sight of his tongue ring, wrecking your brain further.

"I can't tattoo you like this, we need a break. Get you calmed down, hmm?" You nod nervously, when he leans down, black and silver chained necklaces brushing against your throat and chest when his lips are an inch from yours. "Tell me what you need, pretty?"

You're at a loss for words, just blinking then, Choso called you pretty. Your breasts rising and falling rapidly, the stinging of your thigh burning as the a/c blows across it. You can't say shit, your hand slipping under his thin black shirt, feeling the strength of his rippling muscles, watching the violet of his eyes turn to black as you touch him.

"Use your words, honey. What do you need to calm down and let me do my work?" He raises a pierced brow, you just arch your hips. His lips quirk up. "Use. Your. Words."

"Touch me, Choso."

Hehe comment to be tagged in pt 2 🤭🤭🖤🖤 yes he would be wearing gloves, no I don't care bc I need him sucking his fingers SORRY- also yes, imma tease

[charlotteking27]

The Missing Ring

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: When you can't find your engagement ring on Monaco Grand Prix morning, you spend the entire race day desperately hiding your bare finger from cameras—but Formula 1 fans notice everything, and the internet explodes with breakup theories and conspiracy threads about your relationship with Max.

Warning: none

The morning sunlight poured into the Monaco apartment as you searched the nightstand, your heart starting to race. Your engagement ring—the beautiful diamond Max had chosen—was missing.

"No, no, no," you whispered, dropping to your hands and knees to look beneath the bed. The white gold band with its perfect solitaire diamond had been right there on the nightstand when you fell asleep. You always placed it in the same spot, a routine you had established to keep it safe.

But now it was gone.

You ripped through the bedroom like a whirlwind, checking every drawer and surface, even shaking out the bedsheets twice. Panic rose in your chest as your hands shook. How could you lose something so valuable? Max had proposed only six months ago, and the ring meant everything to you, not just for its worth but for what it signified.

Your phone buzzed, startling you. It was a text from Max's trainer reminding you that today was race day—the Monaco Grand Prix. In your panic, you had completely forgotten.

Your stomach sank. Race day meant cameras. Lots of cameras. Close-up shots, interviews, and public appearances. There was no way to hide a missing engagement ring from the sharp eyes of photographers and fans who noticed everything.

You rushed to the bathroom mirror and stared at your bare ring finger. It looked so wrong, so empty. Think, you told yourself. Maybe you could wear gloves? But it was May in Monaco—no one would believe you needed them. A bandage? Too obvious, and it would attract more attention.

Time was running out. You needed to get to the paddock soon to support Max, but every minute spent searching was another minute wasted. You rifled through the kitchen, checking every counter and drawer, even inside the refrigerator in case you had dropped it while getting water during the night.

Nothing.

Your phone rang—Max's contact photo appeared on the screen. You almost didn’t answer, scared that your voice would reveal your panic.

"Hey, liefje," his familiar Dutch accent said. "Ready for race day?"

"Of course," you managed, your voice a bit strained. "How are you feeling?"

"Confident. The car feels good. Can't wait to see you in the garage." There was a brief pause. "You sound tired. Everything okay?"

"Just… didn’t sleep well. Pre-race nerves, you know?"

Max chuckled. "You get more nervous than I do sometimes. I love you. See you soon?"

"Love you too," you whispered, ending the call before your voice could break.

You had to leave. There was no more time to search, or Max would worry if you were late. You would have to be extra careful to hide your left hand.

The paddock was buzzing with pre-race excitement. You had been to enough Grand Prix weekends to know the routine, but today felt different. Every step felt measured, every gesture planned. You kept your left hand in your pocket, behind your back, or held something to obscure your fingers.

"There she is!" a photographer called out, and you forced a smile while instinctively tucking your left hand behind your right arm.

In the Red Bull garage, you tried to act normal, but it was tiring. You found yourself sitting on your left hand or strategically placing drinks and programs to block the view. Every conversation felt like walking through a minefield.

"Let me get a photo of you and Max before he gets in the car," one of the team photographers requested.

Your heart raced as Max wrapped his arm around you. You pressed your left hand firmly against his back, hidden from view, praying the angle would work.

But you should have known that Formula 1 fans missed nothing.

Within two hours of the photos being posted, your phone was buzzing nonstop with notifications that you were too scared to check. Twitter was exploding, Instagram was in a frenzy, and the F1 community was in complete chaos.

Instagram

f1wags_official

Liked by Username1, Redbullfan, and 604K others

f1wags_official: 💔 Sending love to both Max and his (former?) fiancée during this difficult time. Whether they're together or not, we support them both individually. Sometimes love isn't enough... ❤️ #RespectTheirPrivacy #MaxVerstappen #F1Family

View all 8,427 comments

maxverstappen.updates: 📝 Remember when she missed the last two races? We should have seen the signs...

Username45: And the way he looked distracted during qualifying yesterday makes so much sense now. My heart is broken for both of them💔✨ #MaxVerstappen #F1Heartbreak

f1.memes.daily: 🚨 EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP saying "Max is better off without her" or "she wasn't good enough for him" !!! She's been nothing but supportive and loving. If they broke up, it's nobody's fault. Relationships are complicated! #JusticeForMaxsFiancée #StopTheHate

f1.conspiracy.theories: 🕵️‍♀️ COMPILATION VIDEO: "All the signs we missed" - from their last Instagram post together (3 weeks ago) to today's Monaco footage. Set to dramatic music because we're all hurt 😭 Link in bio! #MaxVerstappen #F1Analysis #HeartBroken

max.verstappen.wife: ✨ MANIFESTATION CIRCLE ✨ He's single, I'm single, I speak Dutch (Google Translate), I love racing (Mario Kart), I'm moving to Monaco (in my dreams)... The universe is aligning 🙏💫 Who's with me? #ManifestingMax #Monaco #NewBeginnings

Username2: ME!!

paddock.gossip: 🍵 EXCLUSIVE: Heard from paddock insiders that she's been house hunting... in NEW YORK. Not Monaco. Not the Netherlands. Make of that what you will... Also, apparently, Christian Horner's wife was seen comforting Max after qualifying 👀 #PaddockTea #F1Insider

Username_redbull23: OMG...WHAT!!

f1.wedding.dreams: I literally have a 47-slide PowerPoint presentation of their wedding venue options, color schemes, and guest lists... I've been planning this wedding for MONTHS. What am I supposed to do with all this research now??? 😭📊💍 Should I delete everything or keep it for when he finds someone new? #WeddingPlanning #F1Wedding #TooInvested

Fiona_care: George Russel, what are you doing here??

receipts.and.f1.tea: 📱 RECEIPTS THREAD: Screenshots proving the timeline of their relationship decline. Swipe to see: 1️⃣ Last "I love you" comment on his posts (3 weeks ago) 2️⃣ Her deleting couple photos (2 weeks ago) 3️⃣ Separate arrivals at events (1 week ago) 4️⃣ Today: NO RING The evidence was there all along 🔍 #Receipts #F1Investigation

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at most of it, but the notifications kept coming. The race was torture. Max drove brilliantly and secured P2, but you could barely concentrate on his performance. Your phone kept lighting up with calls from friends and family. They were likely wondering why the internet claimed your engagement was over.

The chaos was increasing by the minute. More accounts were picking up the story and creating elaborate theories about what had gone wrong.

Twitter / X

The worst part was how quickly it spiraled. What began as fans noticing your missing ring turned into wild conspiracy theories, relationship experts writing articles about your supposed issues, and even people claiming to have inside info about your breakup.

When Max crossed the finish line in second place, you should have been thrilled. Instead, guilt washed over you. How could you explain this? How could you tell him you lost the ring he had picked out so carefully?

After the podium ceremony and media duties, Max finally returned to you in the garage, still buzzing with post-race excitement.

"Did you see the radio message when I crossed the line?" he asked, pulling you into a sweaty hug. "I said, 'that one's for my beautiful fiancée.' The whole world heard it."

Tears filled your eyes, and they weren't happy.

"Max, I—" you started, but he was already reaching into his bag.

"Oh, before I forget," he said casually, pulling out a small velvet box. "I have something for you."

Your breath caught. Inside the box lay your ring, sparkling more brilliantly than ever.

"I picked it up from cleaning this morning," Max explained, seemingly unaware of your shock. "I wanted it to be perfect and extra sparkly for our wedding photos. I was going to surprise you with it after the race, but…" He paused, frowning at his phone. "Why is everyone asking me if we broke up?"

You looked at him, then at the ring, then back at him. "You… you had it cleaned?"

"Yeah, I scheduled the appointment weeks ago. The jeweler said they'd make it look brand new." His frown deepened as he scrolled through his phone. "Seriously, what’s all this about a breakup? People are saying you weren't wearing your ring today and—"

He looked up to see tears streaming down your face.

"Oh," he said softly, realization hitting him. "You thought you lost it."

You nodded, unable to say a word.

Max quickly wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly against his race suit. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you I was taking it. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I never thought… God, you must have panicked all day."

"I tore the apartment apart," you managed through your tears. "I was so scared to tell you. Then all the cameras today, people noticed, and—"

"Hey, hey," Max said gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "It's okay. It's just a ring."

"It's not just a ring," you protested. "It's our ring. It's—"

"It's a symbol," Max finished, sliding the ring back onto your finger where it belonged. "But the symbol isn't what makes us engaged. We do. This ring could disappear tomorrow, and I'd still be just as committed to marrying you."

You looked down at your hand, whole again, the diamond catching the garage lights and casting tiny rainbows across the wall.

"Though I have to say," Max added with a grin, showing you his phone, "the internet detectives work fast. Look at this chaos."

You finally glanced at your own phone and saw the full extent of the madness:

Instagram

broken.f1.hearts: 💔 To everyone crying in the comments: we've been through this before with other drivers. Remember when we thought Lewis and Nicole were endgame? When we shipped Seb with Hanna? F1 relationships are tough. Racing comes first, always. But it still hurts... 😢 Group hug? #F1Heartbreak #WeveBeenHereBefore

Rebull.is.life: It still hurts😭 Finethings: My favorite couple...GONE

"This is crazy," you said, scrolling through more posts. "Someone created a whole body language analysis of our photos from today. They say you were 'distant and cold' at the podium ceremony because you stood 15 centimeters further away than usual."

Max burst out laughing. "I was really thinking about tire strategy for the last ten laps." He showed you another post. "And look at this one; they say I'm 'emotionally unavailable due to my racing career' and that’s why we broke up."

"My personal favorite," you said, finding the wedding planning post, "is this person who made a 47-slide PowerPoint about our wedding. Now they don't know whether to delete it or keep it for your next relationship."

"The fans who defend you are sweet, though," Max said, pulling up more comments. "Look - 'She's been nothing but supportive!' 'Don't blame her for F1's demanding schedule!' They really care about us."

Despite everything, you felt a warmth in your chest. "They do, don't they? Even the ones who are upset - they're upset because they thought we were perfect together."

Max nodded and wrapped his arms around you again. "You know what? Let's put them out of their misery." He held up his phone. "Ready to break the internet again?"

You held up your left hand, the ring sparkling under the garage lights as Max took a photo.

maxverstappen1

Liked by Yourusername, F1gossip, and 3.5M others

maxverstappen1: Surprise! Had this beauty cleaned for my gorgeous fiancée 💍✨ Sorry for the panic, internet - we're still very much engaged and very much in love. Thanks for caring about us so much ❤️ P.S. - whoever made that 47-slide wedding PowerPoint, we might need to see that 😂 #StillEngaged #CleanRingNewSparkle #InternetDetectives

View all 11,976 comments

f1wags_official: OH MY GOD WE'RE SO SORRY 😭😭😭 BUT ALSO SO HAPPY!!!

recipes.and.f1.tea: Deleting my entire thread now... this is why we don't jump to conclusions 🤡

f1.wedding.dreams: SENDING YOU THE POWERPOINT RIGHT NOW!!

maxverstappen.updates: NEVER BEEN HAPPIER TO BE WRONG

broken.f1.hearts: GROUP HUG EVERYONE WE'RE CRYING HAPPY TEARS NOW 😭❤️

"Well," Max said as he saw the comments come in, "I think we just gave them the best plot twist of the season."

You laughed and glanced at your ring one more time before settling into Max's arms. "Next time you want to surprise me with jewelry cleaning, maybe leave a note?"

"Deal," Max grinned, kissing your forehead. "But I have to say, watching the internet go crazy over us was pretty fun. They really do love us."

"They really do," you said, finally able to smile as notification after notification poured in with relieved fans celebrating that their favorite couple was still together. "Almost as much as I love you."

"Almost," Max agreed, spinning you around the garage as mechanics and team members started to figure out what all the excitement was about. "But not quite."

[aerequets]

part 2

spy x pta ORIGIN STORY???

i was interested in the pure aesthetic of loid fighting with a pta mom, but then i got way too into making a whole backstory. and of course there's twiyor but like, prpr (post reveal pre relationship) twiyor because why don't i just include everything i like while i'm at it?

anyways, as the first panel indicates, this is split into TWO PARTS because i lack restraint. i could have made one long post but i got impatient so i still have to draw the rest lmao

(everything related to this is under the 'spy x pta' tag on my account)

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Stormy night”

Pairing: Pre Outbreak!Joel Miller x babysitter!Reader

Joel’s Masterlist here Part 2 here

Summary: You’ve been babysitting for the Millers for months now, admiring Joel from afar. Until one stormy night things gets spicy.

WC: 3,3k

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, age gap, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (m!receiving).

A/N: I know the babysitter is such an overused trope but i’m just a sucker for fatherly and domestic pre outbreak Joel. This has a little fluff and lots of smut at the end, so there’s that.

You’d been babysitting Sarah Miller for the last six months. Some might think she was a bit old for a babysitter—she was twelve, after all—and far smarter than girls her age. But her father, Joel, mostly hired you for the company. He worked long shifts that often ran well into the night, and he never felt comfortable leaving his daughter alone for so many hours.

And you? You were a typical college student—desperate for a few extra dollars. So, when you saw the flyer on the bulletin board, you didn’t think twice.

You loved working for the Millers. It never really felt like work. Sarah was sweet, and you genuinely enjoyed helping her with her school projects, watching movies together, gossiping, and giving her advice on boys like an older sister would.

Joel was a good boss, too. He always paid you on time, left you and Sarah money for takeout most nights, and always offered to drive you home when it was too late or raining.

And, of course, the looks didn’t hurt. You couldn’t help but admire him when he was around. Joel was a handsome man—rugged and worn, but in a way that made him even more appealing. He was nothing like the college guys you were used to seeing—the ones who couldn’t grow a proper beard, who talked too much and said too little, trying too hard to impress. Joel was the complete opposite. He didn’t need to impress anyone. He barely spoke to you most of the time, but when he did, it caused an impression.

You arrived to the Millers’, the relentless Texas sun high in the sky, making your skin glisten and your clothes cling to your body.

“You brought the nail polish, right?” Sarah asked eagerly as soon as you stepped inside.

“Of course I did,” you said, holding up the small pouch filled with bright colors. “Hot pink and glitter, just like you asked.”

You’d only just settled in when Joel came downstairs. His hair was damp, a towel draped over the back of his neck, and his shirt was tugged down just enough to reveal the faint outline of his chest.

“I’ve got a lot of work today. I’ll be back around nine, maybe a little later. You good with that?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly.

You nodded. “Yep, that’s alright.”

“Don’t let her stay up past nine,” he said, grabbing his wallet and keys from the table before heading out the door.

You spent the evening with Sarah, painting each other’s nails, watching silly rom-coms, and making dinner together. It was a routine you’d come to enjoy more than you cared to admit.

“My dad has the hots for you, you know that?” Sarah said, her voice muffled through a mouthful of mac and cheese.

“Jesus Christ, Sarah.” You chuckled, your face flushing a little as you nervously laughed off the comment. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“No, I mean it. He’s like… less cranky when you’re around,” she said, swallowing another spoonful. “And he looks at you like those guys do in the movies we watch.” She leaned back, making exaggerated and comical love-eyes at you.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “You’re being silly.”

“I’m not. I know him better than anyone,” she said, chewing lazily as she watched you. “But he hasn’t dated in, like, forever. I’ve actually never seen him date. He’s weird.”

You chuckled, trying to brush it off and change the subject. It’s not like you hadn’t wondered about Joel’s love life yourself. You had. He only ever asked you to babysit when he was working, which implied he never had any dates, and you’d never seen a woman around the house.

No. Stop thinking about this. Doesn’t matter if he dates or not. He’s your boss. He’s significantly older than you. Nothing is ever going to happen. You’re being stupid, you told yourself.

By 9:30, Sarah was curled up on the couch, leaning against your shoulder, completely out of it. She didn’t even stir when Joel stepped inside.

“Howdy,” he greeted you, his voice warm but tired. He looked exhausted—dark bags under his eyes, his broad shoulders looking tense and stiff.

“Hey,” you said softly, brushing a few strands of Sarah’s hair away from her face. “She’s out like a light,” you whispered.

Joel gave a small, fond smile as he looked at Sarah, then came closer to the couch to scoop her up in his arms.

“I’m gonna put her to bed,” he said softly as he started toward the stairs.

There was something so endearing about Joel’s dedication to his daughter. Even if he worked too much and wasn’t around as much as he would’ve liked, everything he did was for Sarah, it showed how much she meant to him.

A few minutes later, he came back downstairs, looking even more worn out than before.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice raspy, and with that thick southern drawl of his, it made your stomach twist in a way you’ve never felt before you met him.

“I’m good,” you replied, swallowing nervously. “We had mac and cheese for dinner—there’s a bit left if you want it.”

He hummed softly, glancing over at you.

“So I guess that’s it for today,” you said, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“You sure you don’t want a ride back? It’s pretty dark out there,” he offered, his hand already on the doorknob.

“It’s cool. I don’t mind the walk,” you said quickly. You’d never wanted to feel like an inconvenience, even though he’d driven you home several times before.

“C’mon. I’ll drive you home.” He was already pulling his keys from his pocket, moving toward the door to walk you out.

The drive to your place was about fifteen minutes, but with every second spent in the truck beside him, the air seemed to grow thicker. The tension was palpable.

“How was work?” you asked softly, trying to break the silence and ease the tension.

“Well, everyone seems to be assholes who mess up the simplest orders, so you tell me,” he said, his voice carrying frustration, though his eyes stayed locked on the road ahead.

“Sounds terrible.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is. I chose this hell.” He glanced at you for a brief second before returning his focus to the road. “How’s school?”

“It’s fine. Hard, but I guess I chose this hell too,” you replied, shifting in your seat.

He let out a low laugh, almost inaudible. “You study psychology, right? Makes sense. You’re good with people.”

You smiled. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re good with Sarah. I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate it.” His voice softened in a way that made you feel a little dizzy.

“Thanks… I really care about her. She’s a great kid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “And you’re a great dad. She’s lucky to have you.”

He scoffed lightly. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing half the time. It’s all just improvisation.”

“Well, whatever it is, keep doing it. It’s working. You’ve raised an amazing daughter.”

Joel smiled at you—probably the biggest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen him give anyone.

A few more minutes passed in silence before you arrived at your place.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, reaching out to touch his arm for a second longer than you should have. You suddenly felt too embarrassed, your face flushed as you quickly got out of the truck without saying another word.

Joel watched you walk to your door, his eyes lingering a little too long. He couldn’t help but notice how your shorts shifted with each step, revealing more of your thighs, and how the strap of your top slipped slightly off your shoulder, showing the edge of your bra.

And he felt like a creep.

Every single time. He felt disgusted with himself. He’d tried to avoid it, but every time you were around, his mind wandered. Like when you’d come over after getting caught in a storm, your white shirt soaked and completely see-through. Or when you were on the floor on your knees, helping Sarah with a school project, and all he could think about was how good you looked on your knees like that. Or the worst—whenever he found himself flipping through an old secondhand Playboy magazine Tommy had left around the house many years ago, just trying to get his imagination going… only for his brain to drift to you. Always you. Until he cummed to the memory of your nipples under that wet white shirt.

Joel felt like the worst kind of man. He was older, a father, an adult who should know better. And yet, here he was, fantasizing about a girl half his age. Even if he never acted on it, it still felt wrong. On so many levels.

The next day, when you arrived, Joel had already left for work. A note on the counter, written in his messy, all-caps handwriting, told you he’d gone out to run some errands before work and wouldn’t be back until around ten.

By seven, the sky had split open like something ancient had broken loose. Thunder rattled the windows, lightning tore lines across the darkening sky, and the rain came down in torrents. One of the worst summer storms in years.

You and Sarah had decided that the weather made the perfect excuse for popcorn and horror movies that probably weren’t appropriately rated for kids her age. But she loved them anyway.

By nine, she was fast asleep on the couch, legs tangled in a blanket, soft breaths rising and falling, completely unaware of the front door opening.

“Holy hell,” Joel muttered as he stepped inside, soaked from head to toe, shaking water from his hair like a dog. He pulled off his boots, leaving puddles on the mat. “It’s been years since I’ve seen a storm like this. Streets are flooded, some trees came down, and they’re closing off the roads. Barely made it back.”

“Gee,” you breathed, glancing at the chaos outside through the window, the trees swaying like they might break.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re gonna clear it ‘til morning,” he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “You’re staying here tonight. I’ll drive you home tomorrow.”

“I—thank you,” you murmured.

He glanced toward Sarah, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he stepped over and scooped her into his arms. He carried her upstairs like he always did, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When he came back down a few minutes later, he’d changed into dry clothes. A gray t-shirt clung to the shape of his chest, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends.

“You can take my bed if you want,” he offered as he walked into the kitchen, already opening the fridge. “Clean sheets and all. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, no—I can’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “The couch is fine. I already feel like I’m intruding.”

“Don’t,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I sleep on the couch most nights anyway.”

He pulled out some leftovers and popped them in the microwave.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I had popcorn,” you said with a small smile.

“Popcorn ain’t dinner,” he muttered. He grabbed another plate and started dividing the food between the two of you.

You sat beside him on the barstools at the counter, eating quietly, listening to the distant growl of thunder and the drumming rain against the roof.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said softly.

“I wouldn’t let my biggest enemy out in that mess,” he replied, chewing slowly. “Least I could do.”

Later, you were at the sink doing the dishes, sleeves rolled up, warm water running over your fingers. Joel stood next to you, drying with a dish towel.

“Thanks for dinner,” you said again.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Are you ever gonna stop thankin’ me for every damn thing?”

“Hey, just bein’ grateful here,” you said, grinning as you flicked a few drops of water at his face.

The smile faded from his lips in an instant. His eyes locked on yours. Intense. Heated. Without a word, he reached for your wrist—his touch soft, but firm—and pulled you gently toward him.

You inhaled sharply. His body was warm and solid against yours. His face just inches from yours. His breath hit your skin.

“Joel…” you whispered uncertainty.

“Ask me to stop,” he said, his voice low, ragged. “Please ask me to stop.”

But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you breathed.

And then his mouth was on yours.

It started slow, hesitant, like he couldn’t quite believe he was finally kissing you. But seconds later he lost all inhibition, his lips crushed against yours, hungry, desperate, as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you tight as he lifted you onto the counter like you weighted nothing.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you, his chest heaving.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been dying to do that,” he murmured, voice thick. “I feel like I’ve been losin’ my mind.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand moved fast, sliding down between your legs with almost no pretense, just need. You gasped as his fingers found the heat between your thighs—confident, greedy.

“Joel…” you moaned, trying to speak, but the words caught in your throat.

“If you want me to stop just tell me and I will,” he said again, lips brushing your skin as he kissed along your jaw, down your neck.

But you said nothing. Didn’t need to. The way you tilted your head to give him more access said everything.

He slid your shirt over your head, his mouth following the trail of bare skin as he moved down to your breasts. His hand cupped one, thumb brushing your nipple, twisting it softly, before his mouth went to the other one, closing it over it, sucking gently.

“They’re so perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before giving them both equal attention.

You could feel how hard he was through his pants—thick and aching, grinding against you like he couldn’t help it. You rocked against him, searching for friction, for more.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

“I got you, baby,” he rasped. “Gonna make you feel real good.”

His hand slid under your skirt, fingers finding your soaked panties. He groaned at the feel of you—hot, wet, and wanting like he’d never seen before in a woman, and knowing it was all because of him drove him near feral.

He was scared of being way too rusty and out of practice, after all he hadn’t done this in longer that he cared to admit. As a reflex he pushed your panties aside and pressed his thumb to your clit, making you gasp again.

“You this wet for me?” he growled, rubbing slow circles. “Christ.”

Two of his fingers teased your entrance, gathering your slick. “This feel good?”

“So good… don’t stop,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, muffled by the bite you gave his shoulder to stay quiet. Sarah was upstairs, but keeping silent felt impossible with what he was doing to you.

Encouraged, Joel pushed his fingers inside you. Slow at first, careful. Then faster. Curling them, finding the spot that made you see stars—and when you moaned, he knew he had it.

“Fuck, Joel… I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his thumb relentless on your clit. “Please let me feel you.”

Your hips rocked against his hand. You were barely holding on. Then your orgasm hit, fast and hard, ripping through you. You bit your lip so hard you nearly bled.

He felt it. The way you clenched around his fingers, your whole body trembling, your chest heaving. He looked up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“That was… I’ve never felt like that before,” you said, breathless, blinking through the haze. “Not ever.”

He stared at you, flushed and wrecked, eyes locked on your blissed-out face. “You look so fuckin’ beautiful right now.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” you said, eager to return the favor.

“You are,” he affirmed, not wanting to force you into anything, but dying to relieve the pain he was feeling in his pants.

“Like this,” You slid off the counter and dropped to your knees, hands on the waistband of his pants with a confidence that surprised even you. “Let me make you feel good too.”

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, watching you. The image of you, down on your knees, eyes wide and eager, was nearly too much.

You pulled his pants and boxers down, releasing his cock. Thick, heavy, already leaking.

Your fingers wrapped around him, stroking slow, building pressure. Then your tongue replaced your hand, hot and wet and perfect.

He groaned loud, his hands gripping your hair—not to push you down, but to keep himself grounded. You took more of him, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling.

“God, baby…” he gasped. “Oh that feels—fuck.”

Your mouth took him slowly, savoring every sound he made, taking your time to enjoy everything, from the curse he breathed out when you licked along the vein on the underside of him to the way his hips jerked slightly when you hollowed your cheeks.

“Stop—fuck, baby, you gotta stop,” he said, voice hoarse. “Don’t wanna finish yet.”

He hauled you to your feet, kissing you hard as he picked you up and set you back on the counter.

“Need you,” he growled. “Need to be inside you.”

You nodded quickly, breathless. “Yes, Joel. Please.”

He pushed your legs open, standing between them, with one hand he positioned himself, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance.

“You su—?” he tried to ask before you cut him.

“I’m sure.”

He pushed in slowly, stretching you inch by inch, letting you adjust to him. Both of you groaning at the overwhelming sensation. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. “You feel perfect… perfect little cunt.”

He started moving, each thrust deep and rough, every inch felt like a delicious torture. The wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the kitchen. You bit his shoulder again, muffling your cries so you wouldn’t wake up the entire neighborhood.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, concern breaking through his haze of lust.

“I’m alright,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop… harder.”

He obeyed, slamming into you harder, faster, one hand gripping your waist, the other braced against the counter. His name fell from your lips like a silent prayer.

“I’m close,” he gasped. “You feel so good—I can’t—”

He began to lose control, his thrusts turning frantic as his climax approached. He didn’t care about pulling out—not right now—even if it was the most reasonable thing to do. Right now, he wanted to finish inside of you, to feel his cum filling you up until it dripped out of your cunt. He wanted to mark you in the most primitive way.

“Shit—I’m gonna—”

A sharp stillness took over him as he spilled himself deep inside you, cumming hard like he hadn’t in years, painting your insides with his seed.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “I— You— That was—Joel…”

“Incredible,” he said, forehead pressed to yours. “Jesus. I don’t remember ever feeling that good.”

He stayed there for a moment, head buried against your chest, catching his breath.

You stroked his damp hair. Neither of you said anything.

After his intense climax, he felt so vulnerable. All he wanted was to lay down in his bed, arms wrapped around you, holding you all night long, keeping you close and safe, like you belonged there with him. And pretending that this wasn’t something fleeting. That this was something real.

“You’re taking the bed,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And I’m sleeping with you.”

You smiled at him, heart fluttering. “Deal.”

READ PART TWO HERE

‪dividers by: @/saradika-graphics‬

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

243. Laal Kaptaan (2019)

[puhpandas]

until September 25th👀