#How to Grill Corn

[grillpartshub-blog]

The Best Basic Grilled Corn Recipe? Whether you're hosting a backyard barbecue or simply craving a taste of summer, mastering the art of grilling corn is a must. For More Details

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

july 17, 2021 6:30 p.m. cathal and eimear's house

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Finally I can almost be seen in public with my laptop again

[wewontbesleeping]

i haven't been to a barbecue in quite some time. wow. haunting statistic.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.

[https-florals]

daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.

summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness

author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)

JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.

“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.

John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.” 

JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.

“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. 

John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside. 

“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.

You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!” 

A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three). 

“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it. 

HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.

You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing. 

It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.

You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.

You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.

“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”

You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that. 

After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.

“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”

He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”

You sigh. “ ‘Kay,” 

He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water. 

“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line. 

You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”

“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.

You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”

JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”

He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”

You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.

daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…

One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.

No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.

He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”

The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”

He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp. 

“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”

He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”

You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.

“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support. 

The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”

He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.

Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds. 

“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.

“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.

“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.  

“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it. 

You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”

“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”

Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.

He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands. 

“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.

You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger. 

It’s probably his favorite possession. 

He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.

“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand. 

“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.

“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.

The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue. 

You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his. 

“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.

“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash. 

“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.

“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand. 

“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine. 

He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”

There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.

JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head. 

He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[astranva]

Instagram Live

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.

..

There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.

There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.

However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.

Harry’s normal girlfriend.

Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.

It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.

Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.

yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.

“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.

user1: OMG HEY BESTIE

user2: PLEASING

user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE

user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?

“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”

user5: you’re still studying?

user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS

user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been

user8: do you miss harry?

“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”

user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?

user10: I hope you’re joking

user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH

You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”

user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING

user12: HARRY

user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH

harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.

user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY

You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”

user2: I CAN’T BREATHE

harrystyles: Oops.

harrystyles: Have you eaten?

user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS

“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”

user4: share the recipe bestie

harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.

harrystyles: Breakfast?

“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”

user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this

user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together

user16: I want to sit on a highway

harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮

You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”

paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN

user7: PAULI IS HERE

harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.

“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”

harrystyles: PAULI

user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING

paulithepsm: HARRY

paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭

user18: PLS

harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.

harrystyles: Show me your nails.

You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”

user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT

harrystyles: I’ll match with you.

“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.

harrystyles: OKAY ❤

user3: HE’S SO CUTE

user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL

jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.

You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”

harrystyles: Agreed.

harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.

user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS

jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that

“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”

harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤

user20: I just want to be her

harrystyles: I love your outfit.

“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”

user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE

user7: she’s so cute

harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.

You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.

user18: LMFAOOOOO

user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE

jeffazoff: Scandalous

harrystyles: OH FUCK

harrystyles: 😎

You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”

harrystyles: Call me?

user20: I’m not okay

You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”

[bouncybongfairy]

Everything & The Kitchen Sink

Butch Wolverine x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Logan promised to come home early from the bar after her shift. You make dinner and get ready only for her to come home late and drunk. This some how leads to the two of you tribbing on the counter.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Fingering, Tribbing, Nipple Play, Squirting

(THIS IS A W|W FANFIC)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were cleaning up the kitchen after making dinner. Logan was supposed to be home over an hour ago, she was working as a bouncer at a local bar. She promised you she’d come straight from work, you’d spent all day preparing for just that. Cleaning the entire apartment, did all the laundry, made dinner, ect. Took a long shower, exfoliated and moisturized. You already wrapped her plate up and stored it in the microwave. Preoccupying yourself by watching TV until you fall asleep. 

Logan carefully unlocked the door and saw you laying so still and statuesque. In comparison to what she sees at the bar all day you truly looked like an angel. The light of the television casting on you like you were glowing. She was past tipsy but not staggering or anything, she liked seeing how peaceful you were; knowing that once you woke up it’d be a completely different story. She opened the microwave and started salivating, it was her favorite. Baked potato with sour cream and chives, corn on the cob, two slabs of steak cooked medium rare, grilled shrimps and roasted carrots. 

It looked so amazing she didn’t bother heating it back up. Stuffing her face, only using utensils when she had too. She hadn’t eaten anything before or during work and drank on an empty stomach. It was like the plate was fucking glowing. Lighting the cigar she had tucked behind her ear. Too drunk to care that she was sparking up inside. She came over to you and ran her finger along your bare thigh. Wearing her tee shirt and the band of your panties peeking out. 

“Mmhm, you’re so soft,” she grumbled to herself, letting her calloused hand run up and down your skin. Stirring you awake and gently letting her body fall on top of yours. You were starting to stir awake, remembering how late Logan was. You push against her shoulders but she doesn’t care. Continuing to kiss your neck and grope your chest. The liquor and burnt smell of the cigar coming from her breath only reminded you of her loyalty to the bar. 

“You’re late,” you huffed, sitting up and trying to get out of her grip.

“Was a late night baby,” she mumbled.

“And you're drunk,” you said, successfully wiggling out of her grip. Picking up the coat she let drop on the floor when coming home. Logan took this opportunity to grip your hips and thrust herself against you. 

“So?” she laughed, pulling at the waistband of your panties and letting them snap against your skin. Entertained by how you jumped and squealed when the elastic hit you.

“I waited for a long time… I was all excited and you left me waiting..” you trail off. It sober her up a bit, knowing that you had waited for her while she lollygagged at the bar. Logan didn’t realize how much her company meant to you. Probably due to her own insecurity but she missed seeing the way she undervalued herself was affecting you. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you to her chest. 

“I should have come right home. I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s okay, I know you have a lot going on. Just promise for next time,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I’m glad you ate,” you said, noticing her dishes on the counter. 

Logan wasn’t paying attention anymore, now completely focused on running her hands down your body. She couldn’t get your smell out of her nose and it was starting to affect her self control. You were oblivious to how worked up she was becoming, Instead being off in your own little world. As much as you hated her cigar habit, the smell was somewhat comforting now as much as you complained about it. Sometimes you’d avoid washing the smoke smell off hoodies and pillow cases. You moved your hands up to her hair, brushing the loose stands out of her face. Eventually running your nails down her arms, you could feel the goosebumps form; her body hair standing somewhat making you giggle. 

She was breathing hard, especially when you looked up at her. Big doe-eyes staring up at her, eyelashes fluttering and hair messy from your nap. Logan smashed her mouth against yours, bringing her hands up to cup your face. Pressing herself against you, pinning your body to the kitchen island. Her thumbs rubbing your face as you work your tongues together. It was sloppy and getting more heated by the minute. She grabs you by the waist and sets you on the counter. Her eyes damn near boggling while watching the recoil of your breast from being sat down so hard. 

She grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it over your head, exposing your chest. Seeing her so animalistic and feral was making your stomach feel inflamed. A deep blush covering your face and neck while wetness starts to drip down your folds; Logan herself felt a heartbeat in her jeans. Your noses were pressed together and you could smell the whiskey on her breath. Normally it would bother you but it was undeniable that when Logan was drunk she didn’t hold back during sex. Normally she was more gentle, enjoying giving you pleasure. The liquor made her more brutish and unfiltered and it was so fucking hot. 

Hearing all the filth that slipped past her lips that normally went unheard due to her shyness. Using her strength against you, biting down on your soft skin with brutal force. Logan pecked your lips before moving down to your chest. Taking one of your nipples into her mouth and starts sucking and flicking her tongue. You ran your fingers through her hair and moaned loudly. Arching your back and balling your fists up in her hair. Your legs immediately begin to tremble from the pleasure. So sensitive from the anticipation that has been building in your belly all day. Resting your lips on the top of her head while groaning and whimpering into her hair. She pulled your panties to the side and used her middle finger to feel around your folds. 

Smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing two fingers into your entrance. She was completely zoned out, having your tit in her mouth while curling and pumping her fingers in and out of you. Any time she nips at the senstative bud you tighten yourself around her fingers; only encouraging her to do it more. Your walls felt so velvety against her digits. She broke out of her daze and pulled away from you slightly to see your face and God what a sight it was. You were completely red in the face, practically panting trying to catch your breath. 

Eyebrows furrowed and nipples puffy and swollen; a light from above the kitchen island shining down on you. Making your chest glisten from the saliva covering your breast. You pulled her onto the counter to join you and started tugging at her jeans, which she quickly took off. Laying her back against the cold tile of the island. Before climbing on top of her, you sink your tongue between her folds. Spitting and flicking your tongue around, looking up to see Logan on her elbows. Cursing and sputtering while pushing herself against your mouth. Getting a little too excited you reach up and try grabbing at her chest. She snatches your wrists and pulls you towards her; now straddling her, you knees on either side of her hips.

 “I’m not that drunk,” she huffs and starts gripping your hips, prompting you to start grinding your hips. 

Now rubbing each other's sexes together, your wet folds sliding between one another. The tile was hurting your knees a bit but it didn’t stop you from quickening your pace. Finding the perfect rhythm, your clits continuously brushing against each other. Logan was arching her hips up, positioning herself so she could watch you ride her. Sitting up on her elbows and watching your tits bounce, saliva dripping onto her stomach. Too pussy-drunk to care if you were drooling or not.

“I’m cumming…” you groan out, taking her off guard.

Grabbing two handfuls of Logan's hair and pinning her fisting to the counter below you two. Your fists on either side of her head while riding out your orgasm. Squirting without stopping grinding your hips, causing the wetness to spread and spalsh all over Logan’s stomach. She immediately cums from watching you unraveling into a squirting fucked out mess. Digging her nails into your hips while thrusting her hips up, trying to get closer to you. Crying out, so overstimulated and jerking your hips forward. You collapsed on her chest, not giving a fuck about sleeping in your own wetness. Logan was too drunk to care, using the tee shirt to cover you like a blanket and falling asleep with you on her chest.

[grillpartshub-blog]

Best Grilled Corn on the Cob Recipe - How to Cook? you can elevate this classic dish to new heights. Let’s dive into the best-grilled corn on the cob recipe and learn how to cook it to perfection. For More Details

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!

 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)

We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-

Butter

Self-rising flour

Granulated Sugar

Raisins

A small dried fruit of your choosing

Almonds OR Pecans

EGG

Whole Milk

Heavy Cream

And if you would like for dipping-

Blackberry jam

To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.

I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.

AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense

The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness

Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end

Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal

Somewhat flakey outside

The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes

Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink

Or mead

I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)

Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.

. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why

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

So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.

I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.

I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

6 TBSP butter, chilled

2 cups self-rising flour

1 TBSP granulated sugar

½ cup raisins

½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped

Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped

1 egg, well beaten

½ cup whole milk

4 TBSP heavy cream

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 f.

Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.

Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing

In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.

Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.

Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.

Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).

Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.

[sweetbunpura]

Fellow knows the scent of food, the smell that mesmerizes him and Gidel but they could never grasp it. The man follows the drifting meat scent to where it leads outside. He opens the back door to see Yuu at the grill with Gidel and Grim running around. Rollo's cutting something and sticking them to skewers, which he then handed to Yuu. Music blasts from the stereo by the steps. Yuu's humming to the beat in a light brown lace sleeveless top with a pair of jeans. Rollo's dressed down, only in a pair of black slacks and a gray pollo. Fellow, being taller than the students, peaks over Yuu and Rollo's shoulder.

"Beastmaster Homura, what exactly are you makin'?"

"Yakitori~" Yuu rolled the wooden skewer in her mouth. "Got a good deal on meat today and Rolls had extra veggies~"

Rollo hands her the last skewer and sets a plate of grilled corn on their wooden picnic table.

"Lady Homura is an excellent cook, so you and Gidel are in for a treat."

Once the last skewer is finished, Yuu collects all of them and sets them next to the corn. Everyone sits at the table and, after thanking Yuu, dig into the food. Fellow pauses as he bites into the meal, eyes widen as swallows the food.

"I told you." Rollo looks at him as his eats his own food.

Yuu waves her hand as she bites into her corn, as if allowing him to eat how he pleases. Fellow and Gidel eat like it's the best time thing ever, both of their plates collecting the wooden skewers. Combined, they polished off a good percentage of the food.

Yuu pops her back and smiles. "And we still got left overs!"

Rollo dabs at his mouth with his napkin, Fellow can count a good amount of skewers on his plate.

"Grim, Rollo, help out with the plates." Yuu says as she looked at Fellow and Gidel.

"Of course."

"Fine..."

Fellow watches them do as instructed before disappearing into Ramshackle.

"Honest."

"Hmm?"

"Everything in Ramshackle is free to use, including food, so you and Gidel here don't have to worry about where your next meal's gonna come from." She got up. "And you guys get to sleep in a nice, clean, warm bed. If you're still hungry, help yourself to the leftovers." With that, she went inside.

Gidel hugs him before Fellow can fully process what happened.

"A place to sleep and eat? No more digging in garbage cans or sleeping in cardboard boxes?" Fellow hugs Gidel tightly. "We gotta home, Gidel."

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 3: Best Friends

Word Count: 893

Rating: G

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

CW: Language

Summary: Part of the As You Wish universe! A conversation between kids leads to an interesting conversation between Eddie and his former bandmates.

@corrodedcoffinfest

[As You Wish masterlist]

There isn’t a cloud in the sky, giving the sun plenty of opportunity to smile down on the Fourth of July Barbeque you and Eddie are throwing. This is the first time you’re hosting a party in your new house and it’s going pretty well, if you do say so yourself. 

The worst of the day’s heat had burned off and Eddie just lit the grill to get it all warmed up and ready to go. He closes the lid and makes his way back over to the outdoor table that his old bandmates are all sitting around. 

It wasn’t often that they all got to get together since everyone had their own lives and families these days, but it made those rare times all the more fun.

“Should be ready soon,” Eddie says as he plops back down in his chair. The hot concrete of the patio is too much for his bare feet, so he picks them up and rests them on one of the supportive bars under the table. From where he’s seated, Eddie can see through the cutout window on the back door, into the kitchen where Max and Gareth’s wife, Tammy, are getting all the food ready to be brought outside. 

Eddie would be the one doing most of the grilling, but Max insisted on grilling the corn on the cob because Eddie was notorious for burning it. 

“How was the drive up here?” Frank asks Jeff before taking a sip from his beer can.

“Not bad,” Jeff says with the shake of his head. “Most of the traffic was going the other way. Guess not many people were coming into Hawkins for Fourth of July.”

Just as Eddie is about to remark on the fun Fourth of Julys they’d had as teens in Hawkins, a small voice whines from the ground next to him.

“Theo!” Danny Harrington huffs, dropping the piece of green chalk he was coloring on the concrete with. “Luke said I could draw the tree!”

“You can draw one here,” Luke says, leaning closer to the younger boy and pointing to a blank space on the patio. 

“Don’t be such a baby,” Theo says to his brother.

“Theo, be nice,” Eddie scolds his nephew. 

Steve is over at the kiddie pool, kneeling by its side while his daughter Mia, three-year-old Tiffany Sinclair, and Jeff’s five-year-old son Brian splash around. Nancy is on the other side of the yard, playing cornhole with you, Ryan, Natalie, Jeff’s oldest daughter Candace, Gareth’s daughter Lynna, and Frank’s girlfriend Sara. Eddie knew they’d thank him for squashing a potential squabble between their boys had they heard it.

The eldest Harrington boy sighs. “Danny’s just mad ‘cause Luke is my best friend and not his.”

“I said you’re both my best friends,” Luke says, not looking up from the drawing of a fish he was etching. 

“I think you can only have one,” Jeff’s middle child, seven-year-old Jasmine, says, scanning through the pieces of chalk to determine what color she should use next. 

“That’s not true,” Luke says, finally pausing his drawing. He lets the orange slab of chalk roll out of his hand and turns his body to look at his father. “Daddy, your best friend is Uncle Steve. But he wasn’t your best friend in school, right?” Luke didn’t wait for his father to confirm. “Who was your best friend in high school?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Gareth says, a playful smirk growing on his face as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Who was your best friend in high school?”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding.

“Didn’t you hear what my boy said? Can have more than one.”

“I bet it was my daddy,” Jasmine says absentmindedly as she continues her drawing. 

Her comment makes Frank and Gareth chuckle.

“Aww, Jazzy! You don’t think I was Uncle Eddie’s best friend?” Gareth asks the little girl. 

“No.”

Her bluntness makes all four men at the table laugh, and Frank has to cover his mouth to avoid spitting out his beer. 

“Who was it, Uncle Eddie?” Theo asks. 

The three other former Corroded Coffin members look at Eddie with expectant faces, amusement gleaming in each of their eyes. 

Eddie wasn’t used to being the one to answer questions as their former DM—he was the one who told them what was what back then. 

“Nancy,” Eddie finally says. His asshole friends were having fun messing with him, then he was going to take the wind out of their sails. “Nancy was my best friend in high school.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Danny says knowingly.

Jeff, Gareth, and Frank bust out in laughter when the six-year-old calls their friend’s bluff.

A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, and he drops his head forward in defeat. 

“Oh, it’s alright, Eddie,” Gareth says, leaning back in his chair once more. His fingers wrap around the neck of his beer bottle and as he brings it up towards his mouth he adds, “We all know your best friend was O’Donnell.”

Jeff throws back his head and cackles in laughter while Frank’s rumbling laugh goes on so long that it turns into a coughing spell. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes skyward. 

“You know,” Eddie says, voice dripping in sarcasm, “it’s such a shame we all don’t get together more.”

[planetcleer]

eddie kaspbrak loves cooking shows. like, he loves them. the food network is his favorite channel, and he watches everything from diners drives ins & dives to good eats to the pioneer woman, not to mention all the different cooking & baking competitions (gbbo is, ofc, his favorite) that crop up every year. eddie kaspbrak loves cooking shows, but eddie kaspbrak doesn’t know how to cook. it’s hilarious! it’s hysterical, even! because sure, for that brief period in college between sonia & myra, he learned some basics, like toast and grilled cheese and scrambled eggs, but for all he watches he’s pretty clueless in the kitchen. ask him to roast potatoes or make a soup from scratch and watch him flounder. he’s never had to do anything like that himself before, you know. he’s never been allowed to.

and it sucks, it does, because food is a form of love. and he knows that because, while he doesn’t have many memories of his dad, almost all of the ones he does have revolve around food. frank kaspbrak loved cooking. he loved best cooking polish recipes from his youth, stuffed cabbage and haluski (eddie’s favorite) and pierogis and chalka bread (eddie’s second favorite) and borscht, and eddie loved to watch. frank would hold eddie on his hip and let him see it all, even let him help sometimes, and when eddie got a little too big to be held, frank would drag a chair in from the dining room to the stove and hoist him onto it so he could stand and watch every step. while he chopped vegetables or showed eddie how to bread pork or worked on dough, frank would tell stories about his childhood, and how he learned to cook from his mother and his grandmother, and how he would cook with eddie until the recipes were all stuck in his head like they were stuck in how own, because they had never been written down before, and it made eddie feel close to him, made him giggle to think about his big strong dad being small and standing on a chair and watching just like him.

frank kaspbrak loved cooking, and then he got sick. very sick. the last memory eddie has of his dad is curling up with him in his hospital bed and listening to him whisper-rasp promises, with what was left of his ravaged lungs, of fresh chalka and pączki and haluski and potato pancakes once he got better. the trouble was that he never did.

lots of things changed after he was gone. eddie learned quickly that his dad hadn’t lied—none of his family’s recipes had ever been written down. he also learned that hospital food was not love, and neither was takeout, but that even though it was different, his mother’s cooking was, and even more so, over time she taught him that not letting him too close to the hot stove or sharp knives was love, too. cooking for him and not with him was love, keeping track of his allergies was love, teaching him to fear food that wasn’t good for him was love, because taking care of him was love.

myra seemed to know those things inherently, and when he married her, she showed him that she loved him in the same ways. she looked after him, she cooked for him, she made sure he stayed away from too much sodium and sugar and butter, she protected him from everything including himself.

and all the while, eddie kaspbrak loved cooking shows. well, he loves cooking shows. in the hospital, after pennywise, he watches a lot, and he learns, but not how to baste a turkey or throw together a corn salad. no, he learns that actually, takeout can be love when your friends sneak it into your hospital room to cheer you up, and yeah, okay, maybe hospital food can be love, too, when you have someone who will make you laugh about it or split your jell-o with.

he divorces myra once he’s out. his friends support him, and richie is quick to offer his home for eddie to stay while he gets back on his feet. eddie is just as quick to accept. they’ve always been best friends, haven’t they? he moves in more than he crashes. it sort of feels like they’re kids again. and, you know, richie tozier loves cooking. for the first time in thirty five years, eddie feels compelled to watch, and so most nights he perches on the other side of the island while richie pretends to be on a cooking show, just for him. it’s a fucking riot! but it’s something else, too. it’s special, because they laugh, and they talk about anything and everything and nothing, and they share their meals together every night, and it makes eddie feel close to him.

eventually, richie starts to involve eddie, calling him his lovely assistant, or his little sous chef. he walks eddie through the best way to cut up potatoes, or how to do a dry rub, or how to make an egg wash. eventually, he has eddie start sautéing the onions, or dredge and bread the pork chops, or throw together a fucking roux all on his own, without having to be shown. eventually, he starts to ask what eddie wants him to do, just as much as the reverse, and renames their imaginary cooking show after them both.

one year to the day after eddie moves in, richie shows him recipes he found online for chalka bread and some cabbage and noodle dish, i think it’s called haluski or something? whatcha think, chef k? eddie knows that richie knows exactly what haluski is. richie’s already gone and bought all the ingredients for both, and so they make them for dinner that night. richie lets eddie take the lead, and later he reaches across the table to hold his hand when eddie starts crying after the first bite. it tastes just like his father’s recipe, you know. it tastes like love and comfort and home. they wash up together after dinner, eddie scrubbing and richie drying as he yaps on in one of his voices, and eddie has to stop right in the middle of it to grab richie’s face with his soapy hands and kiss him. the rest of the dishes are left forgotten until the morning.

so yeah, eddie kaspbrak loves cooking shows, and he loves cooking, and holy shit, he loves richie tozier, too.

[wrestlingwithlife]

4th of July Fun

Given the location of the military base the Task Force resided in it was no surprise that the 4th of July wasn’t a big deal. In fact, most didn’t even know of it, but the American soldiers are hell bent on celebrating with as much fried food and fireworks as possible.

Task Force 141 x Male!Cowboy!Reader

—————————————————————————————————————

“Of course I’m paying for them.” Y/n rolled his eyes as if it was the most simple thing. He held the phone to his ear, listening to the man on the other side of the call whine that they didn’t want Cowboy to have to pay for everything.

“Joel it’s fine, it’s no big deal… Yes I know it’s a lot of money… Yes I can pay for it… Joel, buddy, you think someone who own hundreds of acres of land and countless heads livestock is poor… Exactly, now you and the guys pick the best fireworks and I’ll deal with the rest.”

Y/n sighed as he hung up the phone, but he couldn’t help but smile. It was endearing that they didn’t want him to have to do and pay for everything, but it was just easier.

Cowboy turned around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the looming figure of Ghost standing behind him. Y/n clutched over his heart. “Holy shit, Ghost we have got to get you a bell or something.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the comment, but he quirked his brow at the American male. “What exactly do you need that many fireworks for?”

The h/c haired male perked up, eyes shining with excitement. “Oh! Me and the other American soldiers got clearance to celebrate the 4th of July!”

Ghost knew the 4th of July was a big deal in America, but he had never bothered to look into it. “How exactly do you celebrate the 4th of July?”

“Oh it’s great!” Y/n beamed, motioning Ghost to follow him as he walked. “There are lots of fireworks, food, and yard games.”

Ghost couldn’t help but allow his lips to curl into a smile as Cowboy rambled on, giddy with excitement. He turned his bright e/c eyes up to Ghost, smiling wide. “You and the others should come out when we do it! The more the merrier!”

Ghost hummed in thought, but he knew ultimately there was no way he could say no to Cowboy. “Alright.”

Y/n beamed at Ghost, giving him a quick hug before bounding off to finish his plans. Ghost smiled, eyes trained onto the other male as he left.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Ghost’s eyes trailed around the hustle and bustle of the celebration. There were more American soldiers on the base then he’d originally thought, all of them were dressed rather patriotically with a few even having random red, white, or blue hand prints on their bodies.

The task force wandered about the place as they looked for their American teammate. They took the opportunity to soak in everything.

There were stands selling fried foods that they would have never even dreamed of. There were some soldiers who had tents set up as they grilled beneath them, chatting ideally as they did so.

There were games like corn hole, yard darts, and even Ladder toss. A larger group of soldiers were gathered around some sort of inflatable, the occasional loud cheers erupting from the group as well as a few chants.

Curiosity got the better of the task force and they wandered over, now able to see that the inflatable was a mechanical bull. The group’s jaws dropped when they saw the man riding the bull.

Cowboy’s legs were pressed tight to the bull, his hips moving effortlessly as the man controlling it worked to fling him off. The man sported a loose red and blue tank top, a few white hand prints littered down his chest.

Y/n held his cowboy hat in one hand as he used the other to grip onto the rope of the bull. His wide grin and occasional whoop made it clear he was having a blast. Price swallowed, shifting a bit as he watched the way the southern male’s body moved and grinded as he rode.

After a while longer Y/n was finally flung off the bull, his grin never once faltering. Once he stepped off the inflatable he was given a multitude of praise and pats on the back, but once he saw his task force he was quick to scurry over to them, leaving the poor attempts at flirting in the dust.

Soap smirked, shooting the soldiers Cowboy had left behind a victorious smirk.

“I’m so glad you guys decided to come out!” Y/n beamed, e/c eyes glistening like jewels in the bright sunlight.

“Oh, come on now. You know we wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Soap reassured, throwing an arm around the male in tugging him close. Now that he was much closer he took a moment to look at the hand prints on Y/n’s chest.

Given Y/n’s clean hands and the position of the prints it was clear they were given by someone else. Soap irked a bit with jealousy when he could see the beginning of two hand prints that rested exactly on the thick males pecs, but he wasn’t given time to dwell on it as Y/n dragged him off to enjoy the festivities, the others trailing behind.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

The five spent their time eating more fried foods than they had probably eaten in their entire lives. Y/n also introduced them to more American dishes and traditions, and Cowboy and Ghost absolutely demolished Soap and Gaz in corn hole.

It wasn’t much longer before the sun began to set and the sky grew dark, Y/n practically buzzed with excitement as he led the four to a good spot to watch the fire works.

“Gotta say, this is more fun than I’d thought it would be.” Gaz hummed as Price and Y/n set up the blanket for them all to sit on.

The h/n haired male beamed up at Gaz. “I’m glad you guys liked it! Maybe next year we can get some time off and I can have you over to my hometown to celebrate! They really know how to party.”

Before anyone could get out another word there was a loud whistling and a fiery streak across the sky followed by a big red explosion that lit up the entire area. The five of them immediately looked up as the fireworks began.

The group watched in wonder in awe of each firework, faces lighting up under the glow.

Gaz’s eyes trailed down, cutting over to look at Cowboy. Each new flash of light lit up the male’s beautiful face. His eyes shone like glass and his fluffy h/c locks were still tousled from the day.

Gaz looked down to where Y/n’s hand rested on the ground, keeping him propped up. The British male looked back up to the sky, but moved his hand to rest over Y/n’s own.

The American soldier didn’t even need to look down. He smiled, turning his hand over so he could hold Gaz’s own. Gaz’s heart almost leaped out of his chest when Y/n’s fingers laced with his

Perhaps he had a new favorite holiday.

————————————————————————

I had this queued up and when I came in and saw it didn’t post I realized I had set it for the wrong date so that’s nice 💀 Glad I checked

I hope you all enjoyed! Happy 4th to everyone and if you don’t celebrate that hope you have a lovely day!!

- Author~Chan out ✌️

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 8]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

Yunho had a pep in his step as he came back to the restaurant on Friday morning. He was excited to come back to work so he arrived earlier. Yesterday felt weird to not go into the restaurant to work.

"(y/n)?" He poked his head in. You were alone and had your AirPods on, listening to music as you worked on whatever was in front of you. You hadn't heard him come in. Yunho blinked and stepped forward, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Who-" You jumped back in fear, as if you were afraid of getting attacked. Yunho flinched also, surprised by your fearful reaction.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" Yunho fully bowed in apology.

"It's fine. I didn't hear you come in with my music playing." You frowned slightly, removing your AirPods and tucking them away. Yunho cleared his throat.

"Where are the others?" Yunho asked as he went to put his bag and coat in the locker room.

"I told them to sleep in a little. Sometimes, working in peace and quiet is what I need." You replied, mixing the pie batter in the bowl.

"I understand." Yunho nodded. You couldn't help but involuntarily snort at that, did he really understand what you meant? He seemed like someone who likes to surround himself with noise and other people, someone who doesn't like to be alone or for the environment to be too quiet.

"Hang on, let me make a coffee." Yunho said and went out to make himself a macchiato. At the same time, he made you an iced americano, bringing the cups into the kitchen.

"Thank you. Are you hungry?" You asked as you wiped your hands on your apron towel and took a sip before you went into the walk in.

"I guess?" Yunho blinked in confusion.

"I'll make you a sandwich." You came back out with a prep tray of items. You unwrapped the paper and there was a chunk of what looked like beef in the middle.

"What's that?" He came next to you, leaning to see as you used your knife to shave off slices of the meat.

"It's salt beef. Or corned beef. I made it yesterday for Seonghwa and got it ready this morning to give out." You explained.

"Here." You handed him a slice to try.

"Mmm! It's good." Yunho's eyes widened as he ate it. When he thought corned beef, his brain could only think of that chunk of meat that comes in a can. He didn't think that it was the processed version of this piece of meat in front of him.

"This is rye bread, Russian dressing, swiss cheese and sauerkraut. It's like a fermented, pickled cabbage." You showed him each component as you stacked the sandwich.

"Then we grill it to make a sandwich, a reuben sandwich." You pressed the sandwich onto a hot pan until the cheese melted and the bread toasted.

"It looks so good!" Yunho clapped his hands excitedly. When you took it off the pan, you sliced it down the middle.

"There you go, a reuben sandwich." You slid it to him. Yunho took his phone out to take a picture first.

He picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. The crunch of the bread with all the components, the sauerkraut cutting the creamy dressing and cheese, it was amazing.

"This is amazing." Yunho melted, leaning his elbows on the table as he savoured the taste.

As he enjoyed the sandwich, you went back to preparing the pastries and cakes for the day. You would occasionally glance over at Yunho eating his sandwich. Honestly, you had no idea why you felt so much anticipation making the sandwich for him. Maybe because you've been quite amused by his reactions to food so far.

"I'm glad you like it." You said, turning around to mix the muffin batter. Yunho smiled softly as he looked at the back of your head. It warmed his heart that this was you starting to open up to him.

"This thing... sauerkraut? How do you make it?" Yunho asked.

"It's actually really easy. You shred the cabbage and massage it with salt until the water comes out then you let it pickle with it's own natural bacteria and enzymes." You informed.

"So I'm guessing you made this?" He held up a strand of the pickled cabbage. You nodded your head.

"Well, I'm sad that this is my last bite." He pouted, staring at the small piece of sandwich that was left in his hands.

"You can always learn to make it yourself then make more." You replied.

"Speaking of, is there anything I can help you with? Since you're doing this on your own." Yunho straightened up, going to the sink to wash his hands and the plate the he used.

"The boys are coming in 30 minutes. But you can still help." You shrugged. He nodded, going to the locker room to retrieve a spare apron. After tying the string around his waist, he pulled his sleeves up and washed his hands again.

"Okay, chef! What do I do?" Yunho saluted with a big smile as he jogged over to where you were.

"We're going to make the coffee crumb cake. Measure all this into here while I make the crumb that goes in the middle and on top." You pointed on the recipe sheet and all the ingredients he needed.

"I can do that." He grinned and started measuring each component. You had taken out the ingredients earlier so he didn't need to retrieve them.

"Where is the coffee in the coffee cake?"

"There is actually no coffee in coffee cake. It's just meant to go well with a cup of coffee." You replied, mixing the crumb ingredients together with your fingers.

"That's... confusing..." He laughed. You hummed in agreement. You looked over to see how he was managing.

There was a small frown on his face as he checked the weighing scale for each ingredient, he chewed on his bottom lip, focussed on trying to get the exact weight of everything. You could tell he was frustrated when he was even 0.1g over what was needed. He would carefully add and remove each minute amount.

"Done!" He showed you the bowl. You told him which ingredients to put together, standing with him at the mixer to let him add the ingredients in.

"Once the sour cream, butter and sugar are whipped together and it looks fluffy and airy. Slowly add the eggs." You instructed. Yunho tried his best to follow your instructions. He didn't want to mess up.

"No shell." He said proudly, cracking the eggs into the small bowl and adding them in.

"Should I do the flour little by little?"

"Yes, maybe in batches of 3. Lower the speed of the mixer or it will go everywhere." You advised him. He did exactly as told, watching in amazement as he made the cake batter.

"I've never done this before. Or rather, my mum always said I made a mess so I wasn't alloewd to do much." He sighed.

"You've been keeping your area neat so far." You shrugged, continuing to mix with crumb with your hands to ensure you got the right consistency. You tasted it to make sure that the taste and texture wa right before going to wash your hands.

"That's good." You said. You took the bowl from the mixer and scraped down the sides. Then you grabbed the cake tin and layered the two components.

"Let me help." Yunho held the bowl of batter for you to guide it into the pan. After smoothing it, you put a layer of crumb.

"Ooh, like a filling?" He asked, watching you crumble the crumb evenly over the batter.

"Yes, so we cover this with the remaining batter and more crumb." You said, putting more batter on top of the middle layer of crumb. Then you put a final layer of crumb over the top.

You repeated the step for the other cake tin and put the cakes into the oven to bake.

"Morning, (y/n)." Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho came in.

"Hey." You greeted, putting the used dishes together. The 3 were surprised to see Yunho already there with an apron, standing beside you, ready to take on whatever task you assigned. From the flour stains on his apron, they guessed that you had let him help with with whatever you were doing.

"Look at you being so hardworking." Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you to squish you into a hug. You scrunched your nose lightly, body stiff but you didn't push him away.

"Did you sleep?" Seonghwa asked softly, a hand on your head. He didn't ask if you slept well, he asked if you slept at all.

"I did, Hwa. Don't worry. Your salt beef is in the fridge." You informed. Seonghwa's eyes widened in excitement.

"You didn't..."

"I did." You nodded. Seonghwa left you and immediately headed for the walk in. He came back out with the piece of salt beef that you had used earlier.

"See? You should get a meat slicer so we don't have to manually slice it anymore." Jongho chuckled.

"If you can find anymore space in my kitchen to put an industrial meat slicer, go ahead, Jong." You rolled your eyes. Wooyoung was still glued to your side, his arms around your waist as he leaned his head on your shoulder tiredly.

Yunho watched this exchange quietly. You were really so different when you were around familiar people. Not only were you more relaxed, there was a little bit more playfulness in the way you spoke.

"Okay, get to work." You said, patting Wooyoung on the hip. He went to get his apron.

"What has been done?" He asked.

"Muffins and coffee crumb cake are in the oven. Chicken & leek pie filling is done, pastry has not been rolled out and blind baked. I was getting Yunho started on the financier batter."

"Are you getting more comfortable around the kitchen?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, chewing on a slice of salt beef.

"Thanks for (y/n)!" He replied enthusiastically. You raised your eyebrows at his reply.

"Hwa, stop eating and get to work. You can make your sandwich later." You scolded. Seonghwa laughed and covered the meat back up with the paper wrapping, putting it back into the walk in. He washed his hands and was by your side immediately, assisting you with what you were doing.

"Maybe I should move out of the way." Yunho said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, it's fine. Just finishing weighing all this according to this. Woo, take over the mixing later?" You turned to the male. Wooyoung gave you a thumbs up.

"I'm making the brown butter now." He informed, swirling the pan on the stove. The brown butter gives financiers a nutty flavour.

"It smells nice in here!" San came through the door.

"Boss man is working in the kitchen?" Yeosang tilted his head, seeing Yunho working with Jongho by the mixer. Wooyoung nodded his head with a playful giggle.

"Told you guys I can bake." Yunho scoffed.

"Are you sure you didn't just eat the scraps?" Mingi scoffed, coming back into the kitchen with an iced coffee in hand.

"No, that's not true! I'm not like all of you who just samples and eats everything. I actually helped make the coffee crumb cake. Didn't I, (y/n)?" Yunho frowned with a small pout. You nodded in confirmation, stirring the icing for said cake in your bowl.

"Ice and slice." You slid the bowl of icing to Jongho. Jongho picked it up immediately, drizzling the icing over the cooled cake in a zig-zag pattern. Yunho looked on, proud that he helped make that.

"Financiers going in the oven." Wooyoung announced.

"I'll do the bacon and egg danishes." Seonghwa said. You went over to help him with that.

"We should go get the store front ready for opening. Stock the coffee bar with what we need." Yunho said to his 4 friends. The 5 of them went out, leaving the kitchen.

"Hongjoong, I moved the box of milk cartons into the walk in. They were delivered this morning." You informed.

"Okay, thanks (y/n)." Hongjoong smiled and went to the walk in with Yeosang to help him move the boxes of milk cartons out to the front.

"Can I make all of you a drink?" Mingi offered. You still had the coffee Yunho made you so only Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho gave their drink orders.

The 4 of you worked well, like usual, all falling into your own tasks and jobs without having to give too much detailed instructions. Jongho did the prep and final touches, Wooyoung was working on one pastry while Seonghwa did another. You floated between them, helping them or pulling stuff out of the oven.

"You made sure a pretty crimp, Jongho." You chuckled as you pulled out the chicken and leek pies. Yunho liked the idea of a mix of savoury and sweet baked goods to sell.

"I'm going to slice the banana cake." You said, cutting the loaves of banana cake into slices for serving.

"Ready for the counter." Seonghwa told the boys outside. They came in to help carry the completed sweets out to the front.

"Can I try a slice of the coffee cake?" Yunho asked. Jongho cut him a slice and served it on a plate for him. Yunho took a bite and you swore his eyes sparkled.

"I helped make this?!" He asked in disbelief. You nodded slowly, eyebrows raised in slight amusement.

"Oh my gosh! Guys, eat this! I helped make it!" Yunho ran out to let his friends try it. And to possibly rub in their faces that he was able to make something so delicious in the kitchen without blowing something up, unlike them.

"Did Yunho really make help make that? Cause it's actually edible." Mingi pointed to the plate. Yunho slapped the back of his head with an offended frown.

"He did. He measured out everything and did the cake mixing." You replied, wiping down the counter.

You heard Yunho open up the shop and the chatter of customers come in. The boys outside went to work at once, serving customers.

"Lunch will be reuben sandwiches." You said.

"Another of those amazing sandwiches?" Yunho beamed as he overheard your words while he walked in to retrieve more cocoa powder from the pantry.

"Mhmm." You nodded. Yunho grinned and nodded before leaving the kitchen.

"Another? You mean, you made him a reuben already?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded again.

"This morning when he came in early. I let him try the salt beef and made him a reuben. Although, I think he might like the sauerkraut a little more than the actual meat. He's never had a reuben before and was quite amazed by it." You explained with a small smile on your face, remembering his reaction to the sandwich.

"Wow. Look at you having cute moments with our boss." Jongho teased with his arms crossed. You shot him a flat look, rolling your eyes and continuing what you were doing.

"There was no moment. I made him a sandwich. I have been making all of you sandwiches for so long." You said.

"The first sandwich she made me was kimchi and peanut butter." Seonghwa remembered.

"I was 5!" You hissed.

"And so cute. You looked at me and asked me if it was delicious, I had to tell you it was the best thing I've ever eaten." He laughed, patting your head and pinching your cheek.

"You know what, make your own salt beef next time. I'm not going to be nice to you anymore." You frowned.

"Sure, you know you can't help but be nice to me." Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you, hugging you. You and Seonghwa have been taking care of each other for a long time. While you never verbally expressed yourself, you did it through acts of service.

After all the cakes and pastries were done, you all did the clean up. Wooyoung and Seonghwa did the dishes while you and Jongho made sandwiches for everyone.

"I'll start toasting the sandwiches." You stood at the stove. Jongho helped you put the sandwiches on the pan.

"Whew, it's busy out there!" San huffed as he entered, leaning against the wall tiredly.

"Want a sandwich?" Wooyoung offered. San brightened up, coming over to see what the 4 of you were eating. You gave him one of the sandwiches and he ate it.

"What? This is so good!" San chewed and looked at the sandwich that he had just taken a bit out of.

"It's called a reuben sandwich. There's beef, cheese, pickled cabbage and a dressing. And then it is toasted." Jongho said, munching on the dill pickle that he usually had alongside his reuben. It was homemade, made by Jongho himself. Wooyoung and Seonghwa preferred just crisps.

"The beef is nice. The spices is good and it's really smokey." San nodded as he took another bite.

"It tastes better when you use an actual smoker." You chuckled. There was no space in a Korean apartment for a full size smoker so you relied on a makeshift one, using wood chips in your oven.

"Hey! What are you eating without me?" Mingi came in, tired from the Friday crowd. He came over to see what San was eating.

"Woah, that looks bomb." Mingi commented, looking at the sandwich. Seonghwa slid one over to him.

"That's for you." He informed. Mingi beamed excitedly and went to wash his hands before digging into the sandwich hungrily. San looked at Mingi with a smirk.

"Isn't it one of the best things you've ever had?" San laughed.

"It's amazing! What? How can a sandwich be so good?" Mingi said in disbelief, taking another bite to convince himself. You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho shot each other looks. This was such a genuinely amazed reaction, it was amusing.

"Yunho reacted the same way as all of you." You stated.

"Wait, Yunho's already had one? When?" Mingi and San turned to you in confusion.

"This morning when he came in. I made him one for breakfast." You blinked, taking a bite of your own sandwich.

"And he didn't think to leave any for us? Or tell us about it? See, I told you he was selfish over food." Mingi scoffed at his best friend. San laughed but nodded in agreement.

"Someone is talking about me in here?" Yunho poked his head in. His eyes narrowed in on the sandwich Mingi was eating.

"Is he eating my sandwich?!" Yunho screeched.

"Relax. Yours, Yeosang's and Hongjoong's are here." You pointed to the plates on the back counter. Yunho let out a sigh of relief, no way was he going to share his sandwich, even with his best friend.

"San, if you're done. We need help." Hongjoong popped in briefly. San went to wash his hands and went back out to help manage the crowd and orders. Yunho came in, closing the kitchen door behind him. Mingi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, making Yunho frown in confusion as to why he was being stared at.

"What?"

"You had one sandwich all to yourself this morning for breakfast. Didn't think to leave any of it for us to try?" Mingi asked.

"You're having one now, aren't you? Leave me and my sandwich alone." Yunho scoffed with a pout. They all were like children, fighting over food.

"I share everything with you! You're being selfish." Mingi exclaimed.

"Sorry, Mingi ah. We're best friends but when it comes to delicious food like this, it's every man for himself." Yunho shrugged.

~

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