#I remember this shirt 😂😂😂😂 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freelancearsonist · 2 months

Text

every breath you take

➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader

➔ 5.3k words

➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)

➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33

June, 2013.

After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.

With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect.

Someone else shares your determination, too.

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.

It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.

You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now.

Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”

“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you.

He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.

The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.

The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.

Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–

You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.

He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…

Snap.

With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.

You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.

You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.

Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.

He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.

But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.

Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.

Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.

You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.

No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.

You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel.

Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.

After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.

“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”

“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”

You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.

A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.

“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”

You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.

There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life.

If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.

With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.

Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning.

Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same.

With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point.

You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.

Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.

You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.

You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”

“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.

There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.

Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.

His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”

“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.

“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins.

Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.

Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.

You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–

The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.

“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”

“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”

“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.

Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.

You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.

At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.

The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.

Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.

Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.

His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”

For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.

“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?

“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.

“It was perfect,” you agree.

For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.

And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.

“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”

You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.

The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.

“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”

“God, yes.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.

“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”

“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.

“Ten minutes at the very most.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”

As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”

“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”

It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.

Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”

“Good.”

You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”

“A-always is,” you gasp out.

His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.

“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”

“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.

“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”

You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.

The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”

“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“That’s okay. Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.

You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.

Later, you remind yourself.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”

“I will, I swear, just please–”

The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.

“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”

You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.

“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.

You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”

The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.

You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so.

The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.

“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”

The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.

“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating.

“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.

“I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”

His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.

“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”

For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–

“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”

“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”

You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”

“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”

His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.

He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”

“Not my fault you’re huge.”

He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.

The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.

“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”

He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.

“How’s my make-up?”

“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”

“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.

His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.

“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.

“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”

“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.

He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 2 months

Text

The Chosen One : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as part of the f1 media team you get to meet a lot of the drivers, however there’s one driver who seems to take an extra special liking to you

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lancestroll, carlossainz55 and 79,302 others

ynusername: another fun week at the paddock, look out for some AM content coming your way on race day 🏎️💚

13,382 comments

username1: we love new yn content!! 🫶🏻

lancestroll: thank you for being the perfect partner to have with us this weekend!

ynusername: @/lancestroll it was awesome to spend some time with you 💚

carlossainz55: excuse me come and film some ferrari content asap

username2: cannot wait, i've been dying to see you in the aston martin garage 🤩

username3: now this i just know is going to be hilarious

lewishamilton: you're such a traitor...last week you were all over mercedes 🙄

username4: i always thought that green was your colour yn hahah

danielricciardo: it's been too long, come back and film with me kiddo 😭

ynusername: @/danielricciardo gimme a time and a date and i'm there

username5: the queen is back 👑

charles_leclerc: still waiting for you to hurry up and come and visit ferrari

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc blame my bosses not me

username6: everyone spam f1 until they let yn and go and film with c2 pls

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by leclercgirl101, ferrarifan7 and 1,482 others

f1content: rumours continue to swirl as charles and yn are spotted enjoying their downtime together in the miami heat ☀️

796 comments

username7: if this is true i swear i'll throw a party and everyone is invited 🙏🏻

username8: surely i can't be the only one thinking they look so well suited together

username9: is this why yn's been avoiding the ferrari garage??? 🤔

username10: two people do not colour coordinate for no reason fyi

username11: peep how comfortable they look to be together 🥺

username12: i refuse to accept that these two gorgeous humans are not dating

username13: yn is the only person i will give charles up for ngl 😂

username14: it's about time yn found happiness...praying charles is the man

username15: yn isn't even working this weekend and she's there, charles must be hella important to do that 🥺

username16: if this isn't true prepare for the sound of my heart breaking

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, estebanocon and 89,301 others

ynusername: another week = another garage. thanks to alpine for a great couple of days 🥺

13,694 comments

username17: my favourite creator and my favourite team, thank you f1 gods 🙏🏻

landonorris: fuming!! remember when you told me mclaren was your favourite team

estebanocon: don't think i've laughed like that for a long time, you're the best!! 😂

ynusername: @/estebanocon all thanks to the talented driver who joined me

georgerussell63: i swear these days you're more popular online then the actual drivers

username18: another week of impatiently waiting for yn to film with ferrari 🙄

charles_leclerc: EXCUSE ME WHAT ABOUT ME!?!? 🤯

username19: poor charles is gonna have a breakdown if yn doesn't appear soon

pierregasly: can't believe you refused to take the alpine shirt that i gave you 🙂‍↔️

ynusername: @/pierregasly do you know how many drivers would never speak to me again if i accepted???

username20: i wish the drivers adored me as much as they adore yn ngl

lancestroll: heartbroken that you've already left aston martin for the opposition

username21: how can one person be wanted by so many teams??

carlossainz55: i'll give you a million dollars to come and save my teammate 😂

username22: not charles being publicly thirsty for yn omg

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 89,492 others

ynusername: apparently this is the only garage im allowed in these days 🤷🏻‍♀️

21,706 comments

username23: according to who yn wtf??? please tell me this is charles' doing 🙏🏻

carlossainz55: i always thought that red was your colour anyway

oscarpiastri: btw papaya definitely looks better than that!! 🧡

lancestroll: no way, green is definitely more your style yn! 💚

maxverstappen1: excuse me no one can compete with yn in navy blue thank you 💙

username24: not all the boys fighting over yn like she belongs to any of them

username25: clearly no one has ever seen yn in baby pink *chefs kiss* 🩷

charles_leclerc: it's about time you finally listened to me...

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'm yet to be fully convinced...

username26: the mic in hand...does that mean...content?? 🎤

username27: yn in red and charles in red seem like the perfect pair ngl

danielricciardo: just ignore them all and come and interview me instead, we'll have the best time 🥺

ynusername: @/danielricciardo omw now 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 101,486 others

ynusername: the interview you’ve all been waiting for, see what I got up to with the men in red during race weeekend 🏎️❤️

27,492 comments

carlossainz55: the best time with you, we love you yn!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

username28: about time i can't believe it

landonorris: as much as i hate to admit it, you three are a pretty funny trio 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris i'll take that as a compliment coming from you!

username29: now THIS is the content that we've all been waiting for

username30: my heart just stopped for a moment to make sure that this is true 🥺

danielricciardo: i still confidently argue that we'd have a better time

username31: not me watching this on repeat for the whole weekend

charles_leclerc: my belly still hurts from laughing so hard...i hope you're proud of yourself 😂😂

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc ngl feelin' pretty smug rn

username32: screw the race, this is the content we came to see

arthur_leclerc: don't tell charles but he's not stopped talking about how great you are since this interview 🤭

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc you know this is a public comments section, right??

username33: do you know how long i've been waiting to see a post like this??

username34: all my christmasses just came at once

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 2,593,706 others

charles_leclerc: KING OF MONACO 👑🏎️

103,584 comments

username35: we're so proud of you charles congratulations! ❤️❤️

ynusername: such an awesome drive, couldn't be happier for you 🏎️🏁

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername thank you for coming to cheer me on!!

username36: about time...bow down to the king 👑

maxverstappen1: congrats brother, i'll catch you next time

landonorris: i can see how hard you you're trying not to cry here hahah

username37: you deserve this more than anyone else in the world 💕💕

oscarpiastri: no one deserved to win more than you today, thrilled for you bro

username38: enjoy the celebrations, they're so well deserved king 💞💞

carlossainz55: the only time i'll ever say that i'm happy to lose to my teammate hahah

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 just call me the smooth operator lol

username39: someone please stop the tears from falling now 😭

georgerussell63: damn that was a pretty good drive charle

username40: i've never been so on the edge of my seat in my life

lewishamilton: enjoy the monaco celebrations tonight!! 🍾

username41: i'm not even driving yet i feel like all my dreams have come true

pierregasly: we're all so proud of you, all the hard work was worth it my friend

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles4life, ferrarifanforever and 1,707 others

f1wags: is this the proof that we needed? during the summer break charles and yn have been seen lapping up the french sun on a local private yacht 🤔🏎️

username42: nobody speak to me i am officially deceased 😭

username43: surely no one can argue with this now

username44: thank you f1 gods for listening to my prayers 🙏🏻

username45: look at those smiles, they're perfect for each other

username46: obsessed obsessed obsessed 🤩🤩🤩🤩

username47: it doesn't feel right to be so happy for two people who don't know who i am

username48: i hope they know just how happy all us fans are for them

username49: my heart is so happy rn ❤️❤️❤️

username50: just hope that all the fans can get behind them and help them see how adorable they are

username51: it's my birthday today, and now my wish has come true!!

382 comments

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, lewishamilton and 3,592,103 others

charles_leclerc: shout-out to my biggest fan, thank you for always cheering me on 🫶🏻💕

193,605 comments

username52: not charles coming at us with the hard launch like this ❤️❤️

landonorris: at least now i'm not the only one who has to listen to you gush about yn

username53: i was not prepared for such an adorable set of photos 🥺

pierregasly: oh you have a girlfriend?? you should've mentioned it hahah 🙄

username54: how did these two ever think we wouldn't find out about their relationship

georgerussell63: excuse me, double date is when? 🤔

carmenmmundt: i second what george just said 🫡

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt i'm all yours whenever you want me

ynusername: couldn't be prouder of you...you never fail to blow me away 🩷🩷

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername i try my best just for you my love

username55: did i mention how obsessed with these two i am yet?

username56: my heart is racing a thousand miles an hour seeing these

carlossainz55: can't believe you tried to pretend that you two weren't dating to the whole team, as if it's not horrifically obvious?? 🙄🙄

username57: i'm so happy to see charles with someone whose rooting for him like yn does

username58: btw if there was a competition for cutest couple these two would definitely win 💯

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 104,684 others

ynusername: I could get used to all this romance stuff with you 🥺💞

21,597 comments

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

1K notes · View notes

theflyingfeeling · 2 years

Note

I’ve only seen it in a merch stand in summer 2021, I haven’t even seen pics of the shirt so sometimes I wonder if it was real 😂 but yeah idk if it was meant to be ”pride merch” but it was cool!

nawww maaaaaan I hope they'll bring it back 😔

#unless it was just anon's dream or something 😂#no for real i remember someone from the crew wearing a white shirt with a colourful BC logo 🤔#but i assumed it was super old merch or something...#anon asks #answered asks

1 note · View note

lecsainz · 9 months

Note

Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.

I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.

HOLDING YOUR HAND

parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader

summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.

an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.

It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.

Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.

After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.

Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.

You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.

Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.

She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.

"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."

It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.

During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.

"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.

Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.

She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.

When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.

Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.

"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.

While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.

"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.

She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue headcanons #clarisse la rue oneshot #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

1K notes · View notes

pedge-page · 3 months

Note

Wait ok hear me out. Bored preggo wife starts reading smut and finds she really enjoys a breeding kink/men getting real nasty and aggressively talking about breeding their woman. So she asks Joel to try it and when he does, she’s like grossed out “uhh… nevermind” and he’s so fuckin frustrated and blue balled 😂

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Role Play Me Not

Notes: Thank you for your patience with these requests lately, this one was from March and I've been thinking about it ever since!

warnings: almost smut, lots of dirty talk and degrading language, and usual shennanigans with these two

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It’s pretty late, Joel’s body is wracked, and nothing feels better than the foam mattress bed he’s curled up on. You had a pretty good day, judging by your happy soft hums and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Hopefully whatever nonsense thing you’re gonna purchase with his card and surprise his doorstep tomorrow morning won’t be too harrowing, but for now, he’ll live with it if it means some rest.

But your incessant giggles, matched with the way you’re shrinking under your brightly lit phone reading something so furiously just begs Joel to ask:

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothin!” You quip quickly, rotating best you can so he can’t see the obvious thing you’re hiding on your phone.

“Okay.” He tosses the cover over his shoulder and presses his head back into the pillow again to close his eyes.

Obviously not the answer you wanted, so you loudly snort with your fake ass ‘Tee Hee!’ again because this motherfucker better take the god damn hint.

He sighs. “What.”

“Hmm? Nothin!”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. You can’t see his face from your side, but even if you could, he doesn’t think it would deter you.

You clear your throat before uttering your loudest and most obnoxious giggle.

“JUST—!” Tossing the covers down and rolling to his back, he remembers to take a breath, channeling his calm bear voice. “—just show me already. Please.” He’s exhausted, rubbing his face with both hands before holding out one palm behind him for you to place your phone.

You excitedly shove it in his grasp, and Joel rolls over to see. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, so he collects his reading-glasses from the tableside and props them upon his nose.

Its quiet for a solid minute, and your heart is racing as he stare at his broad back, the fabric of his shirt all stretched tight to accentuate that massive man of man that is your manly man—

He rolls back over with a questionable uncertainty, fear and paralysis mixed with concern and shock.

You’re giddily nodding your head, lips tucked under your teeth from the excitement. “Can we do that?”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

“This is—uh. you like…this?”

“Well I don’t know, but I wanna give it a try…”

He scratches his skull with two fingers, hoping it’ll dig deep enough to itch the bad feeling he has in his brain. “I don’t know, baby, It’s a bit … much.”

“But you call me your pretty slutty wife sometimes! It’s not much different!”

He glances back at the vivid words on the screen. It is VERY much different than that. But you put on your famous puppy pout, with those big round gleaming eyes, trembling fishy lips staring up at him, topping it off by squishing your tits together so they’re bursting out of the nightgown and smashing into his chest.

That’ll do it.

He shrugs, chucking his bifocals behind him with renewed energy arousing his body, especially down south. He gets to his knees, pulling your cover off from your lap and tracing his big hands over the soft expanse of your thigh like a new toy. you bite your lips, shouldering off your spaghetti straps so your tits are close to being popped out. He rolls the soft fabric of your gown up your growing belly and presses his lips against the swell. “Shit, that’s what I like to see. Gonna be a little fuck toy whore for Daddy to play with?”

“Ah…time out.” You hold your hands in a T formation. He stops rubbing and looks down towards your face.

“Uh—yes?”

“I don’t like whore.”

“Ah okay—Daddy’s fuck toy?”

“Ok that’s—mmm.”

“What? No good?”

“It’s just ok. We’ll work on that. You can keep going.”

He shakes his head a little but resumes his gentle ghost of his fingers and lips, cascading lower until the scratchy prickle of his beard is at your naval. “Bred ya nice n’ good huh? Little breedin’ stock just f’me—“

“Oh hold on.”

“What.”

“Breeding ‘stock’? What am I, chicken soup?” You chuckle.

He purses his lips. “I don’t know, it was in the damn fic you made me read!”

“Okay okay, sheesh!” You toss your hands up.

“Can I please keep goin now?”

You nod, and he commences lower.

“Body was made for breeding. Now spread those petals—“

“Oh what I’m a flower now?”

“Damnit, Baby! Am I doin this or not??” He curses.

You go quiet and nod again, shrinking in against the headboard.

“Just about had it with ya whinin’, baby. I should tie you up like the naughty cow you are—“

“Farm metaphor again?”

“N BREED YOU—“ he seethes, gripping your thighs and hitching them around his hips so you can feel his bulge press into your core. “Breed you over and over again, like the dumb little cum dump you deserve—“

“Ugh hold up this position isn’t comfortable I need ta—“ you wiggle out of his grasp and begin trying to alleviate the pressure your baby is putting on your spine. Joel all but abandons holding your legs as he sits on his knees in front of you with his thumb and finger pressed tightly into his eye sockets.

You wiggle and roll, unable to find a good position to sink yourself comfortably. The bed shifts with each turn, and Joel is damn near done role playing with you and about to just fuck you with your face down in the mattress whether you wanted to or not when—

“Okie! I’m ready Daddio!” You announce.

You’re in the exact same position.

“Are we good to continue?” He asks slowly, his frustration being held at bay along with his hard cock that’s begging for some action finally.

You nod.

He finally tugs his dick out and positions it at your entrance, spitting onto your slit. “Now shut up, take this fucking cock, and let me fuck my seed into you cuz that’s all ya good for—“

“Ya know what.” You wave your hand over this whole scene. “I’m done. This is … no. Nevermind, I’m done with this. M’ready for bed now.”

You slap his cock away like it’s a needy hand and roll to your side, slinking the cover over your shoulder again and turning off your light with a little grin.

Joel just falls back on his haunches, his cheeks puffed red, balls swollen blue, fully awake all over, with a grumpy cat-worthy scowl etched into his face staring down at you.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel dealing with preggo wife #joel miller fluff #joel miller fan fic

339 notes · View notes

f1daydreamers · 5 months

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re a tease, asking for things you supposedly already have. Trent catches on... eventually.

A/N: This is my first social media AU so bear with me if it absolutely sucks, also my first time writing for Trent so a bunch of firsts going on today. Enjoy!

Warnings: not much, just a lot of fluff and shite captions lol

...

yourusername | 📍Venice, Italy

tagged venice.explore and calvinklein

liked by yourbsf, calvinklein, and 17,786 others

yourusername can I call you later?

view all 2671 comments

user1 pretty ladyyyyyyy

calvinklein summer collection has never looked better 😍

— yourusername have never loved a black dress more

yourbsf photo creds and the second glass are all me.. right?

— yourusername ofc 😇

user2 omg i need to go to venice asap

user3 i thought you were in la this week for a photoshoot with hudabeauty??

— yourusername next week!! super excited omg 🩷

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, andyrobertson94, and 946,716 others

trentarnold66 Recharging 🔋

view all 76,936 comments

andyrobertson94 Right, there’s no need to flex the arms 😒

— trentarnold66 I was just bending them? 🙃

liverpoolfc Back at camp soon ❤️

— trentarnold66 💪

user6 BYE TRENT FINALLY POSTED HOLIDAY PICS SO I CAN SLEEP NOW

user7 can you choke me with those arms thanks bae

— user8 so real 🤣

judebellingham No invite lad? I see how it is 🫤

— liked by trentarnold66

…

yourusername

tagged hudabeauty, hudabeautyshop, and kayali

liked by hudabeauty, trentarnold66, and 30,651 others

yourusername Coming to you… July 👀

view all 9862 comments

yourbsf A DREAM IM SO PROUD OF YOU BABE

— yourusername i love you 🥹

user4 aaahhhhhhh this has been such a long time coming!!! remember ur youtube videos when u used to review their products?

— liked by trentarnold66

hudabeauty A literal real-life doll 😘

— yourusername says the literal makeup magician ❤️

user5 TRENT LIKED????

— user9 who’s that?

— user5 ONLY THE BEST RB IN THE WORLD WHAT

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, yourusername, and 976,816 others

trentarnold66 Singapore 🇸🇬 Feels real good to be back.

view all 126,625 comments

liverpoolfc What’s up, Vice Captain? 💪

— trentarnold66 🫡

user10 liverpool’s very own ❤️

yourusername damn.

— liked by trentarnold66

virgilvandijk Let’s get it!

user5 OMGGG THEYRE DEFO DATINGGG WAIT

user12 don’t know who yourusername is but she’s verified and trent liked her most recent post now she’s commented on his???? i smell a new couple 👀

…

yourusername | 📍 Liverpool

tagged liverpoolfc

liked by trentarnold66, harvelliott, and 29,872 others

yourusername bleeding red today, bleeding red everyday

view all 11,463 comments

user12 she does know trent’s mural is literally opposite hendo’s right? 🧐

— liked by yourusername

— user12 OMG SHE LIKED MY COMMENTTTT

harvelliott love it 🌹

— user5 DUDE WHO IS THIS GIRL DATING OMFHDJSJSE

trentarnold66 Hmm

— harvelliott 😂

yourbsf fit went hard.

— yourusername not everyone’s agreeing w u 😒

— yourbsf you mean….

— yourusername shh

…

trentarnold66

liked by judebellingham, liverpoolfc, and 817,625 others

trentarnold66 Skipper today but winning in front of you is the best part ❤️🏟️

view all 262,527 comments

user5 IS HE TALKING ABOUT YOURUSERNAME

— user13 bro you lot reach sm wtff he’s obviously talking about the fans lmao they played at home today

judebellingham serious player

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should I say congrats?

— trentarnold66 Only if you’ve changed shirts

— yourusername so take off yours then

— liked by trentarnold66

…

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, trentarnold66, and 96,726 others

yourusername my mom approves

view all 70,637 comments

user5 I CALLED IT FROM THE START YESSSSHDHDHSHSHHS YALL ARE SO CUTE

yourbsf ok trying to convince ppl that i’m the other one in ur pics is getting harder and harder to do

— yourusername 😂😂

trentarnold66 Shirt’s all yours

— yourusername took you long enough

— trentarnold66 I got there in the end 🙂

yoursister does that mean I get to keep Harvey's shirt now?

— yourusername i bet you've already taken it anyway

— yoursister if I speak I’m in big trouble

…

trentarnold66

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, andyrobertson94, and 1.2 million others

trentarnold66 Dear Darling ❤️

andyrobertson94 Congrats Brother 🫂

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should’ve posted the pic where you were preeing my old yt vids

— trentarnold66 I don’t recall that 🤨

— yourusername little liar

— trentarnold66 Little? Who’s the liar now?

— user12 YALL ARE SOOOOOOOO

user5 I WANT MY FINDERS FEE 👩‍⚖️

harvelliott Beautiful 🤩

…

Masterlist

498 notes · View notes

thewintersoldierdisaster · 6 months

Text

a/n: remember that poll you guys voted in on what fic i should work on? this is the fic that one 😂 i’ve been wanting to write this one for a minute and had so much fun doing it!! i love the soft vibes and i hope you guys do too 🥰 lots of fun stuff coming up 🤍

word count: 4.9k

tw: a little dirty talk, a little horny making out, nothing crazy

summary: sunrise on the beach with mat becomes your favorite memory

Sleep fades away slowly, a warm hand working its way gently into your hair, fingertips rubbing against your scalp. You hum and press your face into the pillow bunched up under your head.

A familiar chuckle pierces the veil of sleep, fingers continuing their gentle rub. “Hey, come on Sleeping Beauty,” Mat’s voice is low and amused in your ear. “Time for that sunrise.”

You whine and roll over, sleep still clinging stubbornly to your brain. In your hazy half-awake state, you remember that you’d told Mat you wanted to see the sunrise on the beach, but you honestly didn’t think he’d be able to manage to get up this early. “Time’s it?” you mumble around a yawn, eyes still shut and hand groping for Mat’s. He laces his fingers with yours, taking pity on your floundering hand. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, his palm dry and warm in your own.

“Four ten,” he says, laughing at the outraged noise you make. “Babe, sunrise is at 5:20, had to get you up early.”

One eye cracks open and Mat comes into view, sitting on the edge of the mattress, hair looking a little crazy. He’s got a soft smile on his face even as his lips are tilted up with amusement. “This is cruel and unusual,” you mumble, stretching your legs out under the pile of blankets. Your calf cramps slightly and you flex your foot to relieve the twinge.

Mat’s fingers twitch in yours and he shrugs a little. “You said you wanted to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, tugging at your hand and pulling you into a sitting position. “Not too many more days left on the Island for that to happen.”

He’s not wrong - after the six-game playoff loss to the Canes, you’d hung around the Island so you could spend your birthday with your friends, but you’re leaving in a couple of days to visit Mat’s family before the Bear wedding and then hopping over to Europe for a couple of weeks of vacation. The summer is jam-packed full of fun plans that you’re looking forward to.

“I hate that you’re right,” you sigh, more awake now. Mat leans in and kisses you quickly. He jumps up before you can really kiss him back, making your forehead crease in confusion.

“I’m always right,” he teases, rummaging through your drawers to find you some clothes. You stretch your arms over your head, t-shirt riding up and exposing your stomach to the cool air of your bedroom. You shiver a bit, that full-body shake that’s the result of a really good stretch.

With a scoff, you swing your legs out of bed and mutter, “you weren’t right when you missed the exit and drove us into Staten Island last week, making us very late for dinner.”

Mat blows a raspberry at you. “I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again?” He whines, pouting like a toddler.

You shoot him a cheeky grin over your shoulder and pad to the bathroom to clean up. “I’m bringing that up until the end of time, Mr. I Don’t Need Directions Babe I Know Where I’m Going,” you laugh to yourself before knocking the door shut with your foot so you can have a minute of privacy.

Mat’s got the bedside lamps on when you leave the bathroom, casting your bedroom in soft light that doesn’t hurt your tired eyes. You smile gratefully and flop back down on the bed. “Are you sure we have to do this?” You yawn again. “What about staying in bed and fucking like bunnies? That could be fun.”

Your boyfriend laughs and comes to straddle your legs, knees on the outside of your own, leaning down over you to press a kiss to your forehead. “I think we can do that later,” he mutters against your skin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Get dressed.”

Looking at him, you notice for the first time that Mat’s already dressed in a navy quarter zip and jeans and you wonder exactly how early he got up. It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day and you change into a comfortably oversized royal blue cashmere sweater and a pair of leggings, ignoring the jeans Mat had pulled out of your drawer. He’s staring blatantly at you as you dress, grinning when he notices that you don’t bother with a bra. You wink at him, teasing, “I know that backseat of yours is very spacious.”

Mat’s laugh is contagious and you giggle along with him. “Babe, I’ll let you do whatever you want in the backseat of my car,” he waggles his eyebrows at you, catching your foot when you kick it up at him to put on your socks. He tickles the arch of your foot gently as he pulls a pair of his own thick Nike socks on your feet and lets them bunch up over your leggings.

You wiggle your toes in the warm socks, squirming when Mat captures your ankle and tugs gently to drag you down the bed. “Whatever I want?” You ask on a breathless giggle, letting him pull you to your feet and crash against his chest.

“Anything but eating Goldfish back there,” Mat shakes his head at you, both of you remembering the time you’d been babysitting the Martin girls and Winnie had asked for her snack sized bag of Goldfish to be squished into crumbs since they “taste better” that way and then had dumped the entire bag out on your lap when she was trying to share.

“That was an accident!” You protest, distracted by Mat’s warm hands snaking under the hem of your sweater and dancing over the soft skin of your lower back. “She was sharing. We’re supposed to be encouraging sharing, Mat!”

Mat snorts. “Only because you asked for a Goldfish,” he kisses your cheek, “now come on. We’re going to miss the sunrise.” He taps against your lower back and you wiggle against him.

You’re awake now, but you still try and convince him to get back in bed, “sure you don’t want to just undress me under the covers instead?”

“Later,” Mat promises, tugging at the waistband of your leggings and spurring you into following him down the stairs. You snag your phone off its charging pad on the way out and nearly fumble the tube of Summer Fridays lip balm when you lunge back at the last second for it too.

Downstairs, Mat grabs his keys out of the little bowl on the hall table and you shove your feet into a battered pair of Ugg Tasmans, going for maximum comfort. Mat pulls on a pair of Nikes and you follow him out the door, sighing when you see how dark it still is.

“Can I guarantee at least two orgasms for myself?” You ask, climbing into the passenger seat of Mat’s Defender. “It’s criminally early.”

You look over your shoulder and see that Mat’s already pushed down the second row of seats and the car is full of pillows and blankets to nest in while you watch the sunrise. A delighted smile curls your lips and Mat laughs at you when he gets behind the wheel.

“You literally begged me to take you to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He plays with the radio, finding your preset Taylor Swift Sirius station and you smile happily, kicking off your Uggs and pulling your feet up onto the seat.

“I forget it’s so early in the summer,” you laugh lightly, humming along to ‘Paper Rings.’ You reach your arm out and rest your hand on the nape of Mat’s neck, scratching your nails lightly into his hair, letting the silky strands curl around your fingers. He hasn’t cut it yet and you begged him to let it grow a little longer during the summer, just until Ethan’s wedding in July. Luckily for you, Mat agreed, mostly because he loves when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull when he’s going down on you. Now, Mat’s shoulders drop and you can feel his body relax under your touch. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Robert Moses,” Mat replies, merging onto the Meadowbrook. Despite the early hour, a car nearly sideswipes you as you merge in and Mat lays on the horn, shouting through the closed window. You wince, fingers freezing in place on Mat’s neck.

“I hate the Meadowbrook,” you mutter. “Meanwhile, where was he going? It’s literally five in the morning.”

“It’s also Monday,” Mat reminds you, grinning when you resume scratching at his scalp. “People are going to work.”

You hum a little laugh, “right, the employed, upstanding citizens making the rest of us bums look bad.” The parkway opens up now though, the road clear in front of you and you zone out a bit while staring at the sky as it lightens. The music changes and you mumble-sing along, tapping your socked foot against the leather seat. Mat’s fingers alternate between tapping against the steering wheel and clenching it so hard his knuckles go white. You turn your head to look at him, studying the line of his jaw and the stubble that he’s letting grow in for a few days before he’ll decide to shave again. His hair curls around his ears and you run your fingers through it, brushing your fingertips over the hinge of his jaw.

His lips tilt up in a smile even as his eyes stay on the road. “Enjoying the view?” He teases and you giggle.

“Yeah, actually I am,” you murmur. “Call it sleep deprivation, but I can’t stop staring at you right now.” You angle your body towards Mat’s, still studying his face. “I love you,” you say on a little sigh, never tired of the way his ears go a little pink when you say those three words.

“Fuck yeah, same,” he replies, smirking a bit before laughing at the inside joke. You wrinkle your nose at him, thinking about that first confession - both of you drunk out of your minds, Mat holding you up while you danced on the beach, half of his teammates partying around you in the late July warmth. Influenced by High Noons and beers mixed with too much tequila, your hangover the next day had only been worsened when you remembered the way you slurred the three words into his ear and his response, three different words. But tangled together on the oversized couch in Matt and Sydney’s Hamptons home, with the sunlight nearly blinding you and the sounds of the waves breaking, Mat had pulled you close to his chest and buried his face in your hair and mumbled, “for the record, I love you too.”

From there it had been a wild year, so much fun and excitement, mingled with the heartbreak of missing the playoffs and the month-long break you’d taken after a blowup fight.

Before you can linger too much on the past, Mat pulls off the Meadowbrook and navigates the traffic circle to merge onto Ocean Parkway. You roll down the window to get the ocean breeze into the car, inhaling deeply. “God, I love the smell of the ocean,” you sigh, wiggling happily in your seat. “I miss the days they would prescribe going to the shore for your health.”

Mat’s laugh fills the car, “you already spend more time at the beach than any other person I know! Who takes four mile walks on the sand in the middle of January?”

“I’m a summer baby, Mathew,” you sniff haughtily, tugging gently on the piece of hair twirled around your fingers. “I need my designated beach time to thrive.”

“You’re crazy, that’s what you are,” Mat says, but his tone is laced with affection. “Hopefully this morning fills the quota for when we’re up in Vancouver.”

“We’ll see,” you laugh, the car bouncing slightly as Mat takes the turn off the road and navigates the Defender into the sand. The sky is lightening slowly and you’re still ten minutes away from actual sunrise, so it’s perfect timing. He situates the car so the front is facing west and turns it off, turning to grin at you.

“Ready for a show?” He asks, tossing the keys into the cup holder and reaching up to lace his fingers with yours.

You nod, wide awake now and excited to cross something off your summer bucket list. “Let’s get cozy,” you lean over the console and press your lips to his in a quick kiss before shifting onto your knees and climbing over the console into the back of the car, head first and nearly kicking Mat in the head with a stray foot. He’s laughing behind you, tugging at your ankles.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to get out of the car?” He’s opening his door, half out onto the sand as he talks.

You’re perched happily in the pile of blankets when May pulls open the hatch, exposing the full view of the beach and eastern horizon. He’s backlit by the rising sun and you reach for him, wiggling your fingers to encourage him to climb into the expanded backseat with you. “My way was more fun,” you chirp when he climbs in, kicking his sneakers off and leaving them in the sand.

“Crazy,” he mutters, scooting you to the side so he can wedge in behind you. His elbow bangs against something and makes a sort of thunking noise.

“What’s that?” You settle in between Mat’s legs, resting your back against his chest.

He leans a little to the side and tugs at one of the blankets, exposing the Yeti cooler that usually lives in your garage while it waits for summertime. “Breakfast,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Ohhh,” you grin, angling your head back so you can see Mat’s face, “you’re really gunning for boyfriend of the year, huh?”

“How’re my odds looking?” Mat flips open the lid of the cooler and pulls out a snack sized bottle of Tropicana, holding the bottle in front of you while he cracks the top. You take it from him with a quiet, ‘thanks’ and sip at it. His thighs are firm against the outside of yours, warmth radiating off his body.

“Holding onto a solid second place,” you tease, knocking your knee against his.

Mat cracks open his own bottle of orange juice and knocks back half off it before replying, “second? Jesus, what’s my competition like?”

You shift a little, angling so your shoulder is slightly pressed against his chest and Mat’s left arm is draped over your shoulder, one big hand inching closer to cupping your breast. “Well,” you hum, tapping the lid of your orange juice against your lower lip, “Andrew Price did save the last cherry BlowPop for me back in first grade. I thought that was very gentlemanly.”

“You’re a menace,” Mat grumbles against the top of your head, flicking at the side of your breast with his index finger. You jolt and giggle, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers.

“Yeah, and?” Mat’s foot hooks over yours and you lean to the side, resting your elbow against one of the pillows piled around your bodies. “You planned all this, so you must love me.”

“Against my better judgement,” Mat teases. You look up at him again, pouting and wrinkling your nose, making him smile and lean down to plant a quick kiss on your pout. Humming happily, you rest your cheek against his arm and go quiet, watching the sun slowly rise over the horizon, coloring the sky in gorgeous pastels. Mat’s chin rests on the top of your head and his other arm comes around to wrap around your stomach, keeping you held tightly against his chest.

The waves crash against the sand and you zone out a little watching them, breathing in the ocean air and feeling your entire body relax. Your stomach grumbles quietly, a little vibration that you hope Mat can’t hear. He chuckles and you roll your eyes. “You can move up the boyfriend rankings if you’ve got a cherry BlowPop in that cooler,” you murmur.

Mat shifts behind you, unwrapping his arm from a round your stomach and leaning to the side, taking your body with him. “Even better,” he says, the crinkling of a bag echoing in the small space. You look over just as he withdraws the cream and gold pastry bag from one of your favorite bakeries. “Almond croissant from French Workshop,” he continues, displaying the bag in front of your face with a flourish.

“Ooh!” You perk up, leaning forward to pluck the bag from Mat’s hand. You can smell the buttery pastry and your stomach grumbles again. “Okay, you’re officially in the number one boyfriend spot. I don’t think there’s anything better than almond croissants at sunrise on the beach.”

Mat pulls a second bag from the cooler and you sniff out the scent of Nutella, which only widens your grin. Mat doesn’t have too much of a sweet tooth, except when it comes to Nutella. You’re constantly buying the little snack packs for him to get a quick energy hit.

“Nothing at all?” Mat teases you while you shift in his lap, turning so your back is resting against the side of the car and your legs are draped over his thigh. He takes a bite of his croissant, flaky crumbs landing on your leggings before he brushes them off with a casual hand.

Around a bite of your own treat, you hum. “Nothing I can think of,” you retort cheekily after swallowing.

You shriek and wriggle around when Mat’s fingers tickle your side, your stomach hurting as you laugh loudly and wildly. Mat’s body is on top of yours, nearly flat against the floor of the trunk, croissant crumbs all around you. “Mat, no! Stooop,” you whine, laughing and trying to fight off the onslaught.

“Take it back,” he laughs, peppering your cheeks and neck with kisses. “Say I’m better than breakfast pastries.” He nips at the edge of your jaw.

You hook your legs around Mat’s waist and bump your hips up against his, trying to distract him but all it does is make you hotter for him, heat flushing up your chest. Mat grins against your neck, fingers slowing a little, but still pressing into all the spots that he knows are vulnerable.

“Mercy,” you choke out on a laugh, tugging at Mat’s hair, breathless.

He presses a final kiss to the pulse point on your neck and then his fingers are smoothing over your skin, fingertips gentle as they draw goosebumps in their wake. “I’m taking that as a win,” he informs you, leaning on his forearm so his full weight isn’t on top of you.

You lean up and capture his lower lip between your teeth, biting down a little sharply and tugging. Mat groans into your mouth and you shiver, the noise vibrating down your spine. “Only,” you pull away, your back resting on the floor of the trunk again, “because you play with dirty tactics.”

“Gotta take the wins where I can get them, Squeaks,” he laughs, rolling back onto his side and then sitting up, taking you with him so you’re straddling his lap, the top of your head grazing the roof of the car. You lean down and graze your lips over Mat’s, grinding down a little on his half-hard cock. He grunts in the back of his throat, gripping your hips to keep you in place.

“I’m missing the sunrise,” you chirp, pecking him quickly before wiggling off his lap and settling against his chest again. “You distracted me, back down to number two boyfriend.”

By now, the sun is mostly over the horizon, the sky bright and promising a gorgeous weather day ahead. You pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping an arm around your knees, while you watch the sky change colors. It’s so peaceful and your shoulders relax, the stress of the last few weeks of the regular season and the first round of playoffs dissipating. You’re looking forward to the summer, to getting to spend some real time with Mat. He shifts behind you - you sway to the side a little when he reaches for the cooler again and then back when he adjusts his position, his legs bending at the knee to bracket your body. A breeze off the ocean makes you shiver and press harder against Mat’s body, the hard ridge of his collarbone pressing against the back of your head.

He hums in your ear, breath kissing your cheek when he murmurs, “number two boyfriend, but how about number one fiancé?”

You blink, your brain processing the words, and he reaching around your body to rest his hand on your knee, a black velvet box held loosely in his fingers. You stare at the little box, barely comprehending what’s happening. Mat’s thumb taps carefully against the seam between the two halves of the box, his thumbnail wedged into the spot so he can flick it open at any second.

“What?” The syllable is barely a breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel his cheeks rise with a smile against your temple. “Mat…” your voice is shaky, nervous excitement making your tone higher pitched than usual.

He taps the box against your knee and you immediately move, turning so you’re facing Mat, kneeling in between his legs. He’s got your favorite crooked smile on his face and when his features go a little blurry, you realize you’ve got tears in your eyes.

When he starts talking, Mat’s voice is a little wobbly too. He clears his throat twice before he manages to say, “you know I, uh, usually have a lot to say.”

A laugh slips out of your mouth and you cover your lips with a trembling hand. He grins at you even wider, showing off all his teeth.

“But,” he continues, fingers fidgeting with the box, “I thought about what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you, and I… couldn’t think of anything.”

Your heart pounds behind your ribs, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“There was just too much I wanted to tell you,” he says, leaning up on his knees so you’re both kneeling in the trunk of the car. His hair rubs against the roof of the car and gets a little staticky, sticking up in all directions. “Every single time I tried to come up with a speech, all I could get down was how much I fucking love you. Every single day that you’ve been in my life, you’ve made it better. Even on my worst days, you’re the bright spot.”

“Mat,” you gasp his name softly, mouth still covered by your hands. “Oh my god!”

“I want to have a million more days with you,” he says softly, leaning forward and popping the lid open on the ring box. You were so focused on what he was saying, you barely realized that he hadn’t even shown you the ring. It’s gorgeous, a big oval diamond sparkling in the early morning light filtering in through the windows and open trunk. No smaller diamonds surrounding it on the band so the focus is just on how perfect the diamond is. You cry harder because it’s perfect, simple and stunning and everything that you’ve ever wanted in an engagement ring.

Mat cups your cheek with his free hand and you look up at him, nodding and laughing and babbling an answer to a question he technically hasn’t even asked yet.

Off of his own laughter, because he realizes that you’re giving him the answer he was expecting, Mat asks, “will you marry me? Give me all the best days and -“

He’s cut off when you shout a ‘yes!’ and throw yourself against his chest, arms around his neck and mouth covering his in fervent, excited kisses. In between peppering his face in kisses, you keep repeating “yes, yes, oh my god! Mat! I love you so much.”

Mat’s arms are tight around your back, keeping you held close to his chest, and he laughs against your mouth, entire face scrunched up with happiness while you kiss him. “Want your ring?” He mumbles the question, words muffled by your mouth on his.

You lean back in his arms, eyes wide and still glassy with tears, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please!” You hold out your left hand and Mat slides the ring home - a perfect fit. The sunlight glitters off the diamond as you twist your hand in the air, a stupid grin on your face. “Mat, god, it’s gorgeous. Holy shit, I love you.”

His laughter fills the air and he presses a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Aren’t you glad I woke you up this morning?” He teases, bracing an arm around your lower back so he can sit back on his ass and you can straddle his lap. No chance you’re letting go of him just yet.

“Oh yeah,” you nod like a bobble head, still looking at the ring on your finger. It’s surreal, you’re engaged to Mat, you’re going to be his wife! He’s going to be your husband! “Best reason for an early morning wake up.” A wild giggle bubbles up in your chest. “I can’t believe it, we’re engaged!”

You cup his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face to yours for a kiss, your lips turned up in a permanent grin. Mat rests his forehead against yours when you break apart, your hands still holding his face.

“One more surprise,” he tells you.

“There’s a bottle of champagne in that cooler?” You joke, brushing the tip of your nose against his.

“Okay,” Mat chuckles, “two more surprises.”

“Lay it on me, you big romantic,” you wiggle happily on his lap, the fizzy excitement of Mat’s proposal making you feel a little lightheaded.

Mat’s hands trace a lazy path up and down your sides, slipping under your sweater and ghosting over your warm skin until his fingertips are brushing the undersides of your breasts, making you inhale sharply and arch into his touch. “Y’know how we’re going to visit my parents in a few days?” He asks, turning his head so he can kiss your palm.

It’s hard to concentrate with his hands on your body, but you manage a faint nod.

“We’re taking a little detour to Punta Cana first,” Mat says, punctuating his words with a kiss to your lips. “I wanted to make sure I got to see my gorgeous fiancée in a skimpy little white bikini as soon as possible after proposing.”

“Oh, do you?” You giggle, kissing his cheek. “When do we leave?”

Mat lifts his left wrist up so he can look at his watch. He squints at the face and you can see him doing the mental math before he says, “like thirteen hours?”

“Seriously?” You lean back, face scrunched up, shocked at the quick departure. “You must’ve been really convinced that I was going to say yes,” you tease.

“I know that you’re nuts for me,” Mat smirks, leaning forward to kiss the argument right out of your mouth, his fingers expertly twisting over your nipple and making you melt in his lap, pliant and horny. He licks into your mouth and you lean closer against his chest, pressing Mat back against the back of the passenger seat, the heat of his cock pressing against your core while you rock over his lap.

While you’re making out like horny teenagers, Mat’s phone vibrates incessantly in the cup holder in the center console. Mat laughs into your mouth and breaks away with a gasp, “that’ll be everyone waiting to see what you said.”

Licking at your swollen, chapped lips, you reach around Mat and grab his phone, the screen lit up with dozens of messages. “Did you tell everyone that you were proposing?” You ask, scanning the messages from the guys and spotting a few from Sydney too.

“Uh, yeah?” Mat plucks his phone from your hands. “I needed Syd and Holly to pack your bag for you and I liked the positive encouragement. You would not believe how many wife guys are in that locker room.”

“I believe it,” you assure him, beaming and holding your left hand up by your face when he turns the camera on you. “Selfie time, Mr. Barzal.”

You smush your cheek right next to his, matching cheesy grins on your faces when Mat snaps the picture, sending it off to the group chat. You tuck your face into Mat’s neck, breathing quietly and inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Hey,” you murmur against his skin, getting his attention, “I’m really excited to be your wife.”

Mat’s chin knocks gently against your forehead. “I’m really excited to be your husband,” he replies, hugging you to his chest. “Ready to start FaceTiming everyone?”

“Hmm,” you hum, brushing your nose against Mat’s neck, “can it just be us for a few more minutes?”

“Yeah, it can,” Mat agrees, tossing his phone back into the driver’s seat and tangling his legs with yours. He plays with the ring on your finger, running his thumb over the band. The diamond catches the sunlight and you watch it sparkle, casting rainbows on the roof of the car.

The waves keep crashing and now there are some seagulls making noise outside too.

Mat’s heart beats steadily at your back and it’s the perfect way to start the next chapter in your lives.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

408 notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 6 months

Note

congrats on 500!! 💗

ILYSM!! could you write this drabble we were talking about😈 a lazy Sunday morning riding Joel..he says something like “use your daddy” and/or “that’s my girl.” thank you daddy 🤭😂

Sunday With Your Dad’s Best Friend

18+

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

AN: thank you baby for this great request. I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩵. Did I proof read this? No, of course I didn’t. ✌🏻 YOLO.

CW: I don’t want to give away too much, but wrap it up (be better than these two) use of nicknames and based on the ask one of those nicknames is daddy.

Joel freakin Miller. Your dad’s best friend and your secret hook up for the past few months. Sunday mornings with Joel might be your favourite. Your parents think you’re at work, but instead, you park your car in his garage and spend the day flirting, cuddling and fucking.

It’s a beautifully warm summer morning, Joel is sitting on a pool lounge chair in his backyard, long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He’s in mid thigh length neon green shorts that accentuate his tan, and no shirt. Sun kissing his chest, and it feels weird to be jealous of UV rays that get to touch him in places that are only for you.

He glances up over his book to watch you swimming laps in his pool. The water glistens off your bare back and ass, legs fluttering gracefully beneath the water. As you reach the end furthest away from him you dive under, spinning your body and pushing off the wall to swim back towards him. As you come up to the surface you spin onto your back, cherry pink nipples skimming the surface as you backstroke through the water. He’s never been more thankful for all the tall trees and bushes he planted to make his backyard completely secluded from his neighbours.

Joel puts his book and reading glasses down as your naked body ascends the steps of the pool in front of him. He crosses his toned arms and tilts his head to the side, eyes watching the water droplets run down your body, pooling in the curvy areas he loves so much.

“Gonna get a sunburn if you aren’t careful, baby girl,” he says, concern and arousal fighting each other in his voice.

You blink at him, gathering your hair to the side and squeezing out the water. “Yes, daddy.” You tease, water splashing against the hot paving stone of the pool deck.

He shakes his head and smirks, a dimple forming on his cheek, highlighted by the sun glinting off his greying facial hair. “Careful with that nickname, darlin’.”

Baby girl and darlin’ in a matter of minutes has you itching to get your hands on him. “You just called me two nicknames back to back. That’s cheating.”

“Cheatin’, hey? How so?” His voice has dropped an octave, and that’s almost worse than a nickname.

You wander over to the table beside him where your towel sits. You reach out for your towel as you say, “Makes me want you.”

Joel grabs your wrist, his large, strong hand easily circling the tapered part of your arm. “That right? Someone feelin’ needy,” he pauses before adding, “Sweetheart.”

A little whimper escapes your throat as his coffee and brown sugar-speckled eyes wash over you.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, pulling gently to stand beside him. Your eyes flick down to the tent forming under his swim trunks.

“Can I…” you start, voice shaky and shy.

“Don’t be shy, baby girl. I’m yours, remember?” You nod as he continues, “And you’re mine. So anything you want. Anything.”

You shut your eyes and take a slow breath, perky breasts rising and falling close to Joel’s face as his thumb caresses the smooth inside of your wrist as a form of silent encouragement. “I wanna ride you.”

You open your eyes to see Joel smiling proudly at you. “Good girl,” he hums, releasing your wrist and slipping his swim trunks off. His cock is hard as nails from just the sight of you, he leans back in his lounger - not quite sitting at a full 90 degrees.

“Come on, baby. Straddle me,” his hands come to your hips as you stretch one leg over him and then down onto his lap. His thick shaft rests between your bodies, your pussy sliding along him as you sit. Your clit twitches with every vein and ridge.

Your hand's card through his hair as his hands move to the globes of your ass, encouraging you to grind along him. You lower your face to him, kissing him slowly as you buck your hips back and forth. You swallow the deep moan that passes his lips, slanting your head and licking along his bottom lip.

He kneads the curves of your ass, “more,” you whimper.

He lifts you slightly, then brings one hand to his cock, pumping it a few times before teasing your clit when the head, pre cum leaks from the slit and he spreads along your already soaked and silky cunt.

“Shit, darlin’, so wet already,” he whispers, sliding the head to tease at your tight entrance.

This is your favourite part, the painful little stretch when he first pushes himself in. He always gives you time to adjust before fucking you, today is no different as he pushes your hips down to swallow all of him. You cry out as you settle onto him and his lips crash into yours to stifle you. “Sshhh, the neighbours could be out,” he mumbles into your lips, chest heaving as he adjusts to your tightness choking him.

“Sorry, just feels so good,” you moan quietly.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” His strong hands massage at the creases of your hips. “This what you needed? Me buried deep inside that beautiful little pussy?”

You feel the walls of your pussy flutter around him. Joel is good with his hands and tongue and has the perfect sized cock for you, but it’s his filthy mouth that usually starts that familiar ache to build at the base of your spine.

“Yes,” you huff, slowly grinding into him.

“I can tell. So tight for me. Can feel you fluttering around me already.” Your hands move from his hair to his broad shoulders, using them to leverage yourself so you can get better momentum to slide back and forth.

“Oh god, Joel,” you coo. The ache turns into bubbling lava.

“Kiss me,” he says, strong arms winding around you and pulling you into his chest. You kiss him deeply, tongues lazily flicking against each others as you glide your hips back and forth against him. At this new angle, the soft part of his lower body hits your clit, the slight curve in his cock hitting that spongy part that makes you weak and boneless.

All of the movements from you and Joel are slow and soft, almost lazy. Neither in a rush to orgasm or to get to the next part of your day. This is all that matters right now.

Joel breaks the kiss, hand sliding up your back to the nape of your neck, gently encouraging you to turn your face so he can kiss along your jawline toward that soft part below your ear. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly, just for you to hear. “Use your daddy to cum.”

Your body jerks faster, the bubbling lava close to the eruption point. He lets you move at your own pace, flicking your hips once, twice, and three more times before you feel it. “Good girl, let go,” his teeth graze your earlobe as you fall apart.

You bury your face in his neck. Whispering his name, body going slack. He takes over, hands gripping your lips tightly and moving them in the same pattern you were.

“Oh fuck….yes, daddy. Please,” you’re a whispering, mumbling mess as the pleasure waves through you. The sensitive hard bud at the top of your cunt twitching and pulsing with each graze of his belly. “Don’t stop, Joel. Please - please don’t stop.”

“I know, sweetheart. I got you,” he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down; he does exactly as you ask. “That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

“Fill me. Fill me, please.” You whine, kissing the crook of his neck.

“Fuck. Shit, baby girl.” He says, head falling back to the lounger. You pull back to watch him. Eyes clenched tight and mouth slightly agape. Small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Look at me,” you whisper, slowly retaking control of your body, swivelling your hips into him. His soft brown eyes peel open, dancing around your face. “Please, Joel.”

“Call me daddy,” he moans, his dick getting harder as you ride him.

“Please, daddy. I’ve been such a good girl. Fill me.” You say sweetly, just the way he likes it, before sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel’s breath hitches as his hips stutter, hands clamping down on your hips to still you. “Shit, yes. Yes. Oh fuck, you’re so good for daddy.” His cock jumps and twitches inside you as ropes of cum coat you, marking you and claiming you as his.

As he comes down he pulls you onto his chest, lips kissing lightly along the hairline of your forehead. “God damn, little one. I love when you talk dirty to me like that.”

You nuzzle deeper into his warm chest. “Noted…daddy.”

A deep growl fills his chest. “I’m still inside you, careful with that nickname.”

“I’m having Deja Vu,” you joke.

“As soon as I get control of my legs, I’m takin’ you inside and lickin’ that little pussy clean in the shower,” Joel says matter of factly.

You giggle, “Anything you say, daddy.”

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel

307 notes · View notes

mrsjellymunson · 3 months

Text

The Biology Tutor

Independent Study 01: Art

Series masterlist

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Eddie reflects on your most recent study session.

WC: ~1.68k

C/W: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!! I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll just say that Eddie has some alone time… (If you’ve read the rest of this series you’ll likely not be surprised by any of the content, but if anyone feels strongly that this part needs any specific cautions LMK 💙) No physical descriptions of reader, but she is described as wearing makeup (though this isn’t integral to the story and it’s only one line)

A/N: I know I promised you Lesson 3 was coming soon, but I couldn’t help thinking about how Eddie and reader might feel after their recent tryst in the library, so this extra was born (and you can shout at me about it in the comments if you wish, I would love it ISTG 😂).

As if it wasn’t bad enough already, he muses. Eddie’s been increasingly distracted, and even his Hellfire campaigns are starting to suffer. But ever since that kiss (oh fuck, that kiss) in the library, Eddie absolutely can’t stop thinking about you.

The situation only gets worse when he’s alone, and is compounded further anytime he’s naked.

He’s already jerked off to the thought of you so many times, and he’s certain you knew exactly what you were doing when you brought those (silky, stained) sleep shorts to school for him. (He’s ashamed to admit that he’d spent that morning break under the bleachers with them pressed up against his face, breathing so deeply he almost hyperventilated, and since he got them home they haven’t left his bed.) But he still feels like it’s somehow wrong for him to think about you like this, and he’s sure you’ll see it written all over his face…

This isn’t the first time he’s thought about you whilst he’s in the shower, either. In fact, that started even before you became his tutor - it just took you wearing a particularly short skirt to biology class and it rapidly became a favourite pastime of his.

But today, thanks to your unexpectedly steamy study session in the library, his his cock is already fully hard, standing proudly in front of him within moments of him stepping into the tub, and his mental imagery is especially vivid.

He manages a quick wash before the throbbing between his legs demands his full attention, and his thoughts inevitably turn back to you.

Taking his cock lightly in his hand, he imagines kissing you gently, slowly. He remembers how your lips and mouth felt against his, and how your hands crept up his back over his shirt just hours ago. He recalls every movement, every sensation, as if to burn it permanently into his memory. The feel of your lips, how you smelled, how -oh god- how you tasted. He thinks about how gentle and soft your tongue was, and how he can’t get the sensation of it sliding against his out of his mind. It’s jostling for space next to the thoughts of how much he wants to use his own to explore every inch of you, if you’d ever let him.

Then, in his mind, you’re going over more test questions with him, just like you were in the study room. Except now each time he gets a question right, you praise him, stroke his face… and remove an item of clothing.

Eventually your clothing is all gone and you’re kneeling in front of him here in the shower, the warm water cascading over you in sparkling rivulets. Your naked body seems to glow, and your skin has an otherworldly, fantastical iridescence. Your pretty makeup smears and runs, creating delicate streaks of colour down your cheeks. And you’re wearing a shining tiara made of precious metals and sparkling stones.

His Princess.

Your knees are spread, leaving yourself open, and he imagines how you’d feel on his fingers. Soft, warm, wet, waiting.

He suppresses a moan, lest any of his neighbours are passing by. The flimsy walls of these trailers are hardly soundproof.

He curses as he imagines your hands running over his taut quads, your lips kissing them, then your soft, warm tongue tickling up his inner thighs towards his cock.

Eddie strokes his fingers delicately over his sack, imagining it’s you licking him, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes as you promise,

“Let me show you what a clever boy you are, Eddie. How much of a reward you deserve for working that beautiful brain so hard.”

And then you’re running your tongue up the full length of his cock, all the way from base to tip, but this time you’re not using biological terms, not trying to educate him. This time, you’re just filling yourself with him, suckling on his swollen head and sliding your wet mouth down onto him, further, further, until the tip of him is nudging your throat.

He thinks back to the last time you were on his sofa, your last ‘lesson’, how good you looked and felt when you took his cock in your mouth and looked at him as he grasped your hand. How your tongue swirled so devilishly before you nodded so sweetly and let him cum down your throat. How you licked his release from your lips…

He feels his balls tighten and a familiar sensation stirs in his abdomen, but he doesn't want this to be over yet, so he grips and squeezes that part of his dick that he knows will stave off his orgasm, opening his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, focussing on the swirl of the soapy water as it spirals down the drain.

Breathing deep, Eddie allows himself to slowly and elaborately create a new fantasy, this time imagining he’s pressing you up against the tiled wall.

He wonders what your wet skin might feel like against his, and how your tits might feel against his chest, beneath his hands, in his mouth.

He pictures what it’d be like to nudge your feet apart, just a little, and slot his hips between those luscious thighs.

How it’d feel to push through your glorious folds with the tip of his cock, and slide slowly into your warmth and wetness. The thought makes his breath leave his body in a rush, and he has to stifle another moan.

He wonders how pliant you’d be, whether you’d tell him how talented he is, how much you love it when he does this, how good you’re gonna be for him.

He wonders whether he'd be sweet, telling you you’re so beautiful, how he'll always take care of you, and treat you like the princess you are.

Or whether you’d be filthy, spilling profanities as you urge him to fill you deeper, take you faster, go harder.

And whether he’d ever have the balls to talk dirty to you, and tell you how well you take him, how your cunt is so perfect for him, how much he wants you, and adores fucking you.

Dick slick with foaming shower gel, Eddie’s swollen member slides almost effortlessly into his fist. He braces himself on his free forearm, palm flat against the tiles, imagining your body is between him and the cool ceramic, moving you both with each thrust of his hips.

He imagines his warm chest pressed to yours, and how the water feels trickling over and between your writhing forms as it flows over his shoulders, across your tits, over his balls and down between your thighs.

He groans into the steamed up space as he bucks up into his fist, imagining it’s your wet and willing pussy. Would you cum like this? It’s his fantasy, so of course you would… He wonders how it would feel. Would it be like he’s read about, where you’d be tight around him, squeezing his length as you rode out your high?

He can almost hear your moans as the head of his cock hits that special spot inside you that - just as you promised the first time you came over - you taught him to find. His ego lets him imagine he’d be skilled, maybe the best you’d had, and he imagines how your voice would eventually crack as you'd breathily tell him, just as you did in the library,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

All of it combined is enough to tip him over. His hips stutter and his abdomen tenses as he cums with a broken groan, his vision becoming spotty as his wet spend spurts high up the tiles, some of it almost reaching eye level, sticking to the wall in sweeping, dripping splashes and the rest running down over his hand and wrist.

He squeezes himself, milking his cock of every last drop, whispering your name as he leans his forehead against his forearm and rests there, catching his breath. He’s not sure if he’s ever cum that hard by himself, and he certainly never has in the shower.

Vision clearing, he appraises the evidence of his lust. Human art on ceramic canvas.

However, for once it’s not an artistic display of his that he wants anyone else to see. He makes a mental note to clean off the tiles higher up than he normally would, and begins to rinse off under the cooling stream.

Shit. Wayne’s gonna be pissed when he comes home to find he’s used up all the hot water, and he doesn’t even have an excuse.

As he sluices the mess he’s made down the drain and his post-orgasm fog starts to lift, Eddie starts to feel like the deviant perv he’s sure he must be. He also realises how increasingly difficult it’s getting for him to suppress the various feelings he has for you. How the hell is he supposed to face you after this?

Is this that thing he’s heard about? Post Nut Clarity, or something?

Coming down from his high, he wonders what you’re doing right now. Probably hanging with friends, or diligently doing your homework. Something innocent and worthy. Wholesome.

By stark contrast, as he considers the somewhat-uncomfortable, almost-permanent semi he sports when you’re anywhere near him. Or, when he knows you’re in school generally. Or, fuck, simply just whenever he thinks about you. Suddenly he’s grateful for the cooling water, as his dick threatens to get hard again just from the mere thought of seeing you in class, or passing you in a corridor.

But then there’s also… the other feelings. The ones he’s never experienced before. The ones that tell him there’s so much more to this than just ‘having fun whilst tutoring’. At least, there is from his perspective.

Because what if this is just a temporary arrangement, and once he passes biology class you’ll have had your fun and will move on. Maybe even with somebody else?

Or, what if you feel the same?

And honestly? He’s not certain which prospect terrifies him the most…

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked this little extra ❤️

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Next part: Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

If you’d like to join the taglist for this series or my general one, just drop me a comment, ask or message letting me know, I’d love to have you on board 💗

Taglist (open): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons and because you said you like fantasies @mediocredreams 😉

#Eddie munson imagines #<- literally #perv!eddie munson #the biology tutor #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #Eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie munson fantasises about you #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series

301 notes · View notes

ruh--roh-raggy · 10 months

Text

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1

Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 3,538

Part 2

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.

“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.

“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.

“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.

You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.

“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.

“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.

“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.

“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.

“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”

“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”

“But it’s so cold.” You pout.

“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.

“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.

The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.

“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.

“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.

“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.

“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.

“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.

“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.

“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.

“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.

“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.

His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.

“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.

“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.

“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.

“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.

“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.

“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.

“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.

Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.

“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“And I love you, sweet girl.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

524 notes · View notes