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#he will bake me a pie every week
loveofastarvingdog · 2 years
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assigning u and frog apple pie by lizzy mcalpine because u both are gayass
i LOVE THAT SONG IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY THAT IS MY SONG!!!!!!!!!!?!!!!?!!!!!!!! @frogstiel WHYAT DO YOU THINK
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tabslabs · 2 months
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Me & my mom: listening to jazz My mom: it’s kinda neat how your great grandma met her husband at a dance club Me, who has known this fact since I was 5, just now realizing that dance clubs in nyc in the late 30s were playing jazz when they met: huh.. yea
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studioghibelli · 3 months
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always yours- a joel miller x reader
summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.
warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni
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The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.
Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.
“What’re you up to back there?”
“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”
A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.
“Want to hear some more?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”
Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”
“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”
Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.
“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”
“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”
Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.
Joel sucked in a thick breath.
You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.
He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?
“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”
“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”
“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”
It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.
“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Heyyyy!”
Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”
“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”
Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.
In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.
He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.
Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”
“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”
“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”
“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”
Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:
“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”
“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”
“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”
Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”
Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”
“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”
“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”
“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”
Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”
Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?
How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?
“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.
“Um…” He scratched at his chin.
“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”
Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.
He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.
“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”
“Animal Planet?”
And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”
“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”
“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.
A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.
Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.
“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”
“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”
“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”
“I said one question a day.”
“But-”
“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”
“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”
Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.
Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.
Angry, regretful, bitter tears.
“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”
“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”
“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”
“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.
“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”
Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”
That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.
Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.
“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.
“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”
“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”
“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.
“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”
“Go to sleep, Ellie.”
Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.
In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?
But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.
Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.
Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.
“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”
Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,
Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you, when our love was new.
“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.
He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”
“Dance with me.”
“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”
Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.
“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”
He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.
And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,
Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,
You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain…
“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.
His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.
Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.
Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.
He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.
“Joel…” You whispered softly.
He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.
“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Do you not like me?”
“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.
“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.
In my heart, it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain.
Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.
“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.
“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”
“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.
“How long was I out for?”
Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”
“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”
Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.
“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”
An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.
“What is that?” She asked.
“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.
“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”
“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”
“Who’s it by?”
“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.
“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”
“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.
“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.
But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.
“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.
“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”
Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.
“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.
“‘Bout three years before I met you.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.
“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.
Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.
You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?
“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.
Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.
“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.
“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.
You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.
Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.
“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”
When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.
When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.
As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.
It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.
The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.
Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.
• • •
It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.
Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.
Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.
Your thoughts were full of Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.
Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.
After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.
By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.
“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.
The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.
The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.
“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.
Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.
You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.
You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.
No, by someone.
Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.
A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.
Joel.
Joel. Joel.
The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.
Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.
You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.
Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.
Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.
Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.
“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.
When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.
“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”
“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”
“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.
His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.
Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.
He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.
You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”
And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.
You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.
You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.
You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.
That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?
But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.
“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.
“Yes?”
“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”
Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.
The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.
He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.
He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.
You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.
“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.
When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.
You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.
He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.
You had always liked your men older, anyways.
Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.
“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.
“For you.” You whispered with finality.
He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.
“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”
You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.
And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.
You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.
“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.
“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.
“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”
Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.
Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”
“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.
Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.
“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.
“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.
“We’ll see about that.”
Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.
“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.
Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.
You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.
You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.
“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”
Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.
“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.
“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”
“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.
“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.
“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.
You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”
Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.
You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.
“Christ, Joel.”
He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.
“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.
“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:
With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.
“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.
You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.
“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”
You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.
He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.
You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.
“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.
“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.
“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”
That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.
You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.
“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.
Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.
When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.
You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.
His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.
“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”
“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.
“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.
“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.
You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”
Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”
A moment of silence fell over your bodies.
“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”
“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”
“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”
2K notes · View notes
shadesoflsk · 12 days
Text
THE OLD WAY
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pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader
summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.
warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.
word count: 4k
author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)
MY MASTERLIST
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City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.
That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.
With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.
Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 
But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.
Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 
So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 
“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 
You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 
He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 
He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 
However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.
And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 
For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.
Oh.
Oh…
The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 
He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.
However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 
On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 
He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.
He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 
Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.
“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 
“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”
He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 
“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 
The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.
“You think so?” 
“Absolutely.”
Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.
“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”
Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 
“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.
“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 
Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 
“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.
“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.
-
Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.
Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 
“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 
“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 
And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.
When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 
“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 
“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 
For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 
A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.
For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.
He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.
Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.
Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.
“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”
And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.
“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.
“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 
“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 
Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.
And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 
As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.
Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 
He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 
“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 
A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.
You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.
Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.
At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 
“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 
At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 
For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 
You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 
“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 
“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”
He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 
“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.
In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 
“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 
“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.
He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 
“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 
And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 
“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”
And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.
“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.
“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”
Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.
“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 
“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 
Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 
It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 
He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 
“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 
He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.
“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 
His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.
“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”
Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.
And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.
“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.
The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 
You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 
After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 
Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.
“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 
“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”
“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.
With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 
“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 
“More than okay.” 
He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.
“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”
“Shut up, Leon.”
You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.
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💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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i23kazu · 6 months
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GENSHIN MEN & DOING CUTE AUTUMN THINGS .
characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. happy almost october. which means happy almost christmas | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
zhongli
autumn, with zhongli, is sitting around a bonfire together. his hands are tightly wrapped around you, with you leaning against his shoulder – liyue never had seasons like these, so experiences like these came far and few. it was lovely all the same, sitting nestled in the leaves with you.
diluc
autumn, with diluc, is helping him with the autumn harvest. carts of grapes, pumpkins, cantaloupes, tomatoes, and more were filled to the brim, with two satisfied smiles on your faces after as he pushed the cart back to the manor. a sweet tradition, always ending with a glass of the harvest's finest wine at the end of the day.
kaeya
autumn, with kaeya, is always filled with baking and your household smelling like the grand mixture of cinnamon, butter and nutmeg. pumpkin pie, apple pie, cinnamon rolls, pecan bars, apple crisps and so many more left no more room for actual eating at the kitchen counters – time to host another soirée!
childe
autumn, with childe, is always competing to gather the biggest pile of leaves outside to jump into, within the coziness of your backyard. some years, the children eagerly watched the you go against each other, only for childe to tackle you into your pile of leaves. you always forgive him, though – you can't stay mad at your favourite ginger.
neuvillette
autumn, with neuvillette, is taking a stroll through the cold gardens of fontaine. the air seems to whisper and flitter about, and the melusines skip around as happily as ever. neuvillette forgets about all his worries the moment his hand slips in yours so perfectly – it seems as if your hand was made exactly for his.
alhaitham
autumn, with alhaitham, is booking an isolated cabin in the woods – and spending your most favourite two weeks of the year there. the air is sweetened with the scent of cinnamon biscuits and browned butter. you and alhaitham finally get to take a breath away from the bustle of sumeru city, and curl up within each other to read and live.
kaveh
autumn, with kaveh, is booking every single haunted house and maze you can find on the sumeru websites. you laugh as you watch your boyfriend's face turn from pleasantness to a horror-filled shock, the most high-pitched squealing and shrieking you've ever heard extract out of his body when the jumpscares start. he may have grabbed your hand too tightly, and now there's a red mark.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako (send ask to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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aesonmae · 6 months
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- His Sweet Dessert
Story written by: @aesonmae , and my sweet @anukulee .
A/N: so, I couldn’t think straight after seeing him in that tuxedo.
Summary: Loki comes home, only to find himself faced with a certain sweet dessert.
Warnings: Loki in tuxedo( yes ), +18.
Master list
y/n was a woman of many hobbies, through one of her most consistent hobbies was baking. For her and Loki's shared apartment would often be filled with the sweet smell of whatever she had chosen to bake. On this day in particular, she had chosen to bake Strawberry Custard pie, this sweet treat in particular was one she knew was a favorite of theirs. Something she thought might be a nice treat for Loki to come home to.
        Slowly she began to work on doing what she needed to bake, the treat going off her recipe, through flipping through the book every once in a while to double-check. Testing to ensure that everything she did was perfect for her sweet god when he came home. Thus she continued to putter around the kitchen until the sun was disappearing over the horizon. For it was only then did the door of their shared home click open, not that she noticed with how busy she was with the cleaning. Her apron tied around a green satin night dress, that she had chosen to wear just for tonight. 
        As y/n was currently spending the remainder of her time cleaning. Given the amount of strawberry custard pie ingredients that littered their kitchen, all humming void.
I wonder how I got by this week
I only touched you once,
        she hummed to herself as upon finishing that line, she felt a pair of hands slowly wrap around her hips. The very feeling of it caused her to let out a high-pitched scream, causing the person behind her to speak.
        "It's just me," the voice that y/n instantly recognized as Loki's said.
        "Gods be good Loki," she said whining a little with her tone. "When are you going to stop doing that?"
        "When you stop reacting like that," Loki remarked with a slow chuckle, to this, he would've received a playful hit. At least he would've had his arms not be wrapped tightly around y/n's waist. 
        "Ugh," was all she could let out to Loki's response, still slowly leaning backward against Loki's chest before tilting her face up.
        "Well I missed you too," Loki said, clearly trying to change the subject. Something that y/n would've likely called him out on at least that was until she noticed his Papyon.
      “Oh my goodness what is that," she asked with a grasp, looking right at his tux (one that very much resembled Papyon).
        "What, love," he asked as a frown began to creep upon his lips. To this y/n slowly pulled herself from him, much to Loki's dismay, as she took five steps away from him to fully see him. Her jaw went so far as to drop to the floor for a moment, through this left Loki even more confused. "Darling, what is it," he asked, voice laced with concern, given the silence from y/n.
        “You are wearing a tuxedo," Y/n stated as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
        ”I am wearing a tuxedo," Loki asked, still confused by what she meant.
        "Yes, you are wearing a tux."
        "Why yes, I am but what does that have to do with anything?"
        To this y/n let out a squeal. "Loki you look so handsome," she said with a pause, taking it all in before continuing. “You look like a prince." To this, Loki let out a soft chuckle, about to replay before she interrupted once more. “ I mean you are prince," she stuttered out, as she was jumping off her feet. Trying to let out just the right words for what she meant. “ You look like a God," was the best she could come up with.
        ”Darling, I," Loki responded, about to say something before y/n interrupted once more. 
        “My goodness you are a God," she said, with a smile so bright, not even the sun could compare to it. As with each passing second, her heart swelled more and more, as of result of the joy of seeing him, and how beautiful he was. At least that was until her face grew serious, as an idea had clicked inside her mind. Her face was now more stern than before, causing Loki to grow a look of concern, about to move towards her. 
        Through y/n wouldn't allow that as she quickly pointed a finger at him. "Wait, don’t move," she instructed. “I will be right back," she said, before practically running to her room.
        Just as quickly as y/n left, she returned this time with her instant camera in her hand, as one strap of her green satin night dress was lingering near her shoulder. Through she was quick to notice as much to Loki's disappointment she readjusted it back into place. 
        Once Loki saw the camera in her hand, he let out a groan, before speaking. “Darling, do you have to," he asked, far too used to seeing her use it. Through he did find it amusing that she had hundreds of pictures of him taken by her, yet never growing bored of it, and always seeking to take more. Plus there is the bonus that I am here point of attention, he thought, not that he would ever admit it, through still y/n could see right through him.
        A slow grin began to cross her beautiful face. “Yes, would you pose for me now," she asked, as Loki let out a reluctant sigh yet still smiled at her. As he put his hands in his trousers pocket, leaned backward slightly and smirked. y/n slowly holding her camera, up but not before fanning herself a little at the sight. “ Is it getting hot, in here, or is it just me," she asked, before the click, of the camera went off. 
        Before Loki could even replay y/n let out an almost sinful moan upon seeing his picture. “You look so beautiful Loki,” she remarked, going so far as to stop for a second before she spoke again. “And hot, actually so so hot," she said, before fanning herself with one hand again. Only afterward did she look up at him, as she saw he was now just standing a few inches away from her. 
        "And you look ravishing love," Loki said, as he edged over closer to her.
        "Through not as ravishing, and godly divine as you Loki," she said, as it was with those words, Loki couldn’t take it anymore. Loki crushing his lips on y/n and kissing her fiercely. Loki even took her precious camera from her hand and set it on the table.
 Slowly Loki took hold of her hips, lifting her off the ground, as he set her on the kitchen table, and positioned himself between her legs, all while kissing her in such a way that knocked any air inside her chest. Only when breathing heavily after he broke the kiss did he speak “You are seriously making me blush."
        To this y/n let out her amused laugh at her godly boyfriend. “Awwwwww is sweet god blushing," she asked with a coo. Before Loki could respond, y/n was cupping his face and kissing him just as intensely as he did moments ago. She went so far as to wrap her legs around his hips to bring him closer, causing both of them to moan into the kiss. As with every passing minute, she could feel him grow harder and harder. Good god does the god of mischief turned on by being called sweet, she wondered to herself, despite knowing the answer with the way he was moaning and faintly rubbing himself against her. 
        To this Loki started to kiss down her jaw, brushing her hair to one side, before placing open sensual kisses on her neck. Each was done to taste and smell her sweetness, through very much tempted to remain buried in her neck forever.
        To this y/n titled her head back for him, as she could feel his smirk on her skin. Loki chose to suck there so harshly that it made her whimper and one that likely resulted in a clear mark. From there he continued his way to her shoulder sucking harshly, as he went. He sure knows how to drive me mad, she thought before she let out another moan and grabbed onto Loki's hair. After pulling his hair back, did she bring Loki's lips to hers.
 In response to this, Loki started rubbing her thighs from under her dress, which resulted in her squirming even more than before. Slowly Loki pulled at the straps of her dress untangling it one by one, the dress fell around her waist revealing her breasts. Slowly Loki pulled back his lips from hers, only to attach them to her breast.
        Resulting in her once again becoming a moaning mess, as she took a tighter hold of his hair. He continued to suckle and nibble on her breasts, before he went back to her lips, licking her lower lips so she would let his tongue in while groping on her breasts. All while kissing her even more slowly and intensely than before if that was even possible.
        The two fought for dominance until finally, y/n had sucked on his tongue so roughly that it mean him moaning. "Fuck," he groaned out, as he pulled back from y/n and her lips. y/n was now breathless, through her eyes were glazed with love and desire. The break not being long-lasting before, Loki left a kiss on her breasts, before descending to her stomach,  all the while looking at her, not breaking eye contact.
        The look that Loki gave her, only seemed to fill y/n with even more desire, as he continued. Slowly Loki pushed the remainder of her dress down around her hips, as he placed kisses down her stomach. Her breath only caught in her throat when he had placed a kiss where she wanted him to touch the most.
        Even going so far as to moan his name, before she said something else. “I need you, please," she pleaded.
        As upon hearing that Loki knelt before her, all the while keeping eye contact. “I would never deny you, my goddess," he said, as the words, almost caused y/n to die on the very sight. To this Loki placed her thighs onto his shoulder, as he grabbed her ass to bring her closer, her sex now so close to his face, he almost hit himself. 
        As Loki was as merciless, just as he was godly.  Slowly y/n backed out, as Loki continued to eat her out slowly and sloppy, as y/n was holding on to his hair for dear life. Un-helped by the fact he was moaning and whispering things like; “Divine “, “So sweet “, and “Glorious “. As Loki's grip remained firmly on her ass, y/n could feel the very strength of his hand against her. She went so far as to pray that they could stay like this forever, with him between her legs worshiping her.
        Every little touch, nibble, and suck made her jolt, as Loki owned her body and knew where and how exactly to touch her. y/n had wanted to scream, and she did multiple times, throughout this. Even went so far as to almost see stars when Loki finally pulled away. Quickly whining disappointingly, Loki quickly shushed her by kissing her, making her taste herself on his lips. As he lifted her off the table and carried her to their room, her legs remained wrapped around his waist. All while he continued to kiss and suck on her tongue.
        Through once he entered their room, he quickly made everything vanish with a simple glow of his seidr. As he slowly laid y/n gently on their bed. It was finally then did y/n opened her eyes once more as she let out a grasp. “Where is the tuxedo?"
        As Loki let out a laugh full of amusement. “Should I leave and let you be with it," he asked, in a teasing voice. 
        To that y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, before pulling Loki closer. "No of course not, I only want you god of mischief," she said, voice ever so husky, and her mouth lingering to his ear. 
        Loki let out a groan upon hearing that as he grew even harder if that was possible. As he kissed y/n so hard it almost bruised her lips. “Sweet goddess divine I want you so badly, “ he said, once he broke the kiss, as his voice grew darker.
        “Then have me, for I am all yours sweet god," she said softly, at least until she remembered something. “Oh wait I made us a strawberry custard pie, wouldn’t you try it," she asked, yet Loki ignored her request.
        As he took hold of her hands, pinning them above her head, with a shake of his head. “Now I am fully satisfied with you being my dessert for the night," he said, as with that he had her in every way possible for she was his sweet dessert.
Tag-list: @lokisgoodgirl @feralgodess @lokisprettygirl22 @lokihiddleston @holdmytesseract @five-miles-over @huntress-artemiss @liightt @lokius @lokiusluvr @imagines-random @lokislilkitten @lokilust @michelleleewise @muddyorbsblr @wordynerdygurl @peachyjinx @chantsdemarins @studiokawaii @therese-lokidottir @sheris532 @nildespirandum @javagirl328 @dangertoozmanykids101 @sallymagnoliaposts @atomicradiogirl @crokitheloki @lokisbirdofhermes @wheredafandomat @peterbarnes @earlgreydream
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zepskies · 5 months
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Smoke Eater - Part 7
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
🔥 Series Masterlist
AN: So I don't know why it takes me exactly seven chapters to get to the smut, but so far that's three different series where that's happened. 😂 (Never Say Goodbye, Break Me Down, and now Smoke Eater. Go figure! 🤷🏽‍♀️)
Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smutty smut and baking shenanigans, tinge of angst.
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Part 7: “Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle”
You liked Dean’s apartment. It was on the second floor out of three, and a modest, clean, comfortable space.
Though overall it felt very “dude bro” in décor. You supposed that made sense, considering it was just Sam and Dean living here.
And while you still hadn’t met Sam (he was working late tonight), it gave you a chance to do something you’d been very much looking forward to doing with Dean… 
“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.
True to his word, his mouth was full. You giggled as a flake of pasta spewed from his mouth.
“Oh really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously. And you handed him a napkin to blot his face.
You sat across from him in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. The table itself was barely big enough to fit in the space, feeling more like a nook than a room, but it sat three people. That was usually enough for Sam and Dean, and occasionally Eileen when she came over.
Dean chuckled, his brows dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”
Your face warmed at that, despite your amusement. You had made dinner, for which Dean had been more than enthusiastic.
“You mean I get an actual chef making me food? Sign me the hell up,” he’d teased.
Never mind that you weren’t an actual chef. You had focused on patisserie in culinary school. He didn’t seem to mind though, as he’d devoured two servings of salmon and fettucine alfredo, even down to the steamed broccoli. You had to admit, it warmed you inside to see him enjoy your food.
You’d promised to cook for him last week, and he hadn’t let it go until both your schedules opened up enough for you to come over.
He now hummed in satisfaction as he finished off the last bite on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin.
“Thanks for this, sweetheart. I needa have you around here more often,” he said, tossing you a grin.
You smiled back. “It’s my pleasure.”
It wasn’t the first time Dean had invited you over to his apartment, but for the life of you, you didn’t know why it had taken you so long to accept.
…Well, okay, you did know why. You were reluctant to leave your grandfather alone, potentially all night. But George had been adamant about you going out for as long as you wanted, on the promise that he’d check in every few hours until he went to bed.
“Okay, ready for dessert?” you asked.
“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. He still thought about those cookies you brought to the firehouse, almost a month ago already.
Damn, has it really been that long? he thought as he helped you collect the dishes from dinner. He followed you into the kitchen, where you already knew the lay of his land.
Sam couldn’t cook for shit, so it usually fell on Dean to be the figure of culinary expertise. But he had no problem making way for you, especially if you were going to look over your shoulder and wink at him like that.
“Good, because you’re going to help me,” you informed him.
Dean’s smile grew. “All right…what did you have in mind?”
While he started on the dishes in the sink, you hauled out even more ingredients from a big grocery bag you’d brought and stored in the refrigerator. He watched you out of the corner of his eye and spotted lemons, among other things.
“Lemon drizzle cake,” you replied. “One of my grandma’s recipes. I just need a mixing bowl and a cake tin.”
“Good, because we’re not very Betty Crocker in this place. Let’s just say my kitchen tools are limited,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know, if you wanted to bake, I’m sure you’ve got all the proper bells and whistles at your house. We could’ve done this over there.”
You paused to consider the question he wasn’t quite asking, because he had a point. You could’ve invited him over your house instead. You joined him near the sink and leaned against the counter, tapping your nails on the tile surface.
“Well, as you know, I live with my grandpa,” you said.
“Good ol’ George,” Dean grinned. “That guy’s hilarious. Like the fourth Stooge.”
He particularly liked the story you’d told him about the time George had bought you your first makeup palette when you turned fifteen, but hadn’t told you it was face paint…the kind that clowns used.
“And I’d love for you two to get to know each other better. Don’t get me wrong. But barring the fact that we probably wouldn’t have much…privacy,” you pointed out with a subtle smile, trying to ignore Dean’s resulting smirk. Never mind that you two hadn’t needed “privacy” just yet.
“I guess I’m just not used to inviting people over. I’ve been trying to limit the exposure to germs in the house,” you admitted. At Dean’s quizzical look, you had to explain.
“My grandfather had cancer last year,” you said. “He had surgery to remove the mass, and did well, considering his age. He’s in remission now…but I’m still looking after him.”
You’d gone with him to see his primary doctor a couple of weeks ago for that persistent cough. While the doctor seemed to think it was George’s asthma acting up, you’d still scheduled an appointment with his oncologist.
And while your thoughts led you down an all-too familiar path, Dean processed this with a nod of his head. He shut off the sink. After drying his hands, he looked over at you and brushed your cheek with his thumb.
“I’m glad he’s doing better now,” he said. His brows furrowed. “And your grandma passed just a few years before that?”
You nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a long few years.”
So, Dean took an inventory in his mind as he rested a comforting hand on your back. You took care of your family. You could cook. You were beautiful. And still, you kicked ass at your job and seemed to have the rest of your shit together.
He had to admit. The more he learned about you, the more he liked you.
“Anyway,” you shook your head with a smile. “Sorry. Ready to bake?”
Dean’s lips quirked as he followed you to the other side of the kitchen. He stepped behind you and letting his hands fall to your waist. His lips skimmed the side of your head, pressing a kiss there.
“Okay, Rachael Ray,” he teased. “Teach me your ways.”
You were trying to measure out some sugar in the bowl first, but you giggled with a warm blush as he kissed his way down your neck.
“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to distract me?” you volleyed back.
Dean hummed against the crook of your neck. “Can’t I do both?”
You picked up and egg and raised it level with his face.
“Hmm, should I try cracking this against your forehead?” you pondered.
His teeth playfully nipped your skin in retaliation, making you flinch with a yelp. The egg actually cracked in your hand.
“Shit,” you laughed, and you quickly dropped as much of it in the bowl as possible. But getting fractals of the shell in the bowl disturbed your anal sense of meticulousness. When it came to cracking eggs, you typically had nothing if not precision.
You shot Dean an accusatory look over your shoulder. He just grinned back at you.
“Am I helping yet?” he joked.
You chuckled dryly in response. “Just you wait.”
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A few more minutes and “helpful” distractions from Dean later, you successfully had a cake batter in the bowl. You were hand mixing up a storm and sorely missing your Kitchen Aid mixer. Dean was right though; his cupboards had little more than one cake pan, one mixing bowl, and one wooden spoon.
At home, you had a modest collection of cookware and bakeware that rivaled Williams & Sonoma. Though that had been a gift from your grandparents, when you graduated from culinary school. (Your grandma had picked them out before she passed.)
“What’s your favorite dessert?” you asked Dean. You were pretending not to catch him sampling the batter with a finger while you buttered the cake tin.
“Ever?” he asked, rubbing a licked finger on his jeans.
“Yeah. Number one top favorite.”
“Hmm,” he contemplated with a cross of his arms. “Pie, I guess.”
You smirked. That explained his little man-child display a few weeks ago, when you’d tried to share his blueberry pie on your second date.
“What flavor?” you asked.
“I dunno. I’m not real picky,” he said.
“Come on. Everyone has a favorite flavor,” you reasoned. “I’m more of a cake girl myself, but even I love a blueberry pie.”
Dean eyed your teasing grin with a growing smirk of his own. He remembered that day in your office just as well as you.
“Okay, fine. Apple, I guess,” he replied. You gave him a mocking look.
“Really, the most basic of them all?” You tsked at him, shaking your head. “What happened to Mr. Rocky Road?”
Dean chuckled, but he leaned against the counter next to you. Instead of giving it to you right back, as usual, he looked more thoughtful. A gentler look grew on his face. It caught your attention.
“You know, one of my earliest memories…” He looked up at you then, more self-deprecating.
You realized he was about to admit to something, maybe embarrassing, or maybe just vulnerable. Your smile softened too as you paused in what you were doing.
“You can’t leave me hanging on that one,” you said. And you drew closer with a hand soothing up his arm.
He glanced over at you. “I remember being…four, probably. My mom made pies during Christmastime. Cherry, pecan, whatever. But my favorite was her apple pie. I still remember it, because I haven’t had a pie since that tasted like that one.”
Your heart clenched, but your insides also warmed. Not just at the story of his mother, but the way Dean told it, his voice softer, steady, and deep. It told you a lot about him without him having to explain; just like you, he knew what loss was.
You curled your hands around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then your gaze drew back up to his.
“Have you talked to your dad since the last time?” you asked, a bit cautiously. “About his investigation of the fire?”
Dean sighed deep through his nose. “No.”
But despite his father’s warning, he had spoken to Sam.
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“It’s different this time, Sam. The brand marks are the same,” Dean argued with his brother, this time in the living room. He sat on the couch while Sam stood, trying to process everything Dean had just told him about Mary’s potential murder.
“You saw the pictures yourself?” Sam asked.
Dean frowned. “No, but Dad—”
“Dean,” Sam cut him off as he gripped at his temples in frustration. “This is what he does. He sees evidence where he wants to see evidence. I’ve been down this road with him too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dean gritted out. John had roped Sam into helping him a few times, using his ADA status to look into different leads that ultimately hadn’t panned out.
“They always look like connections to him, but they never end up being anything more than his obsession,” Sam said.
He was firm, and Dean understood why, but his gut was telling him that it was different this time…
Still, he had no choice but to let it go. For now.
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Dean shook his head of that memory. Instead, he tried to focus on being here with you. He liked this little yellow sundress you had on, despite the fall chill starting to set in outside. As usual, your hair was clipped up away from your neck while you got ready to put the now full cake tin into the oven.
He came over behind you and freed your hair from the clip, letting it all tumble down. You yelped and glanced over at him.
“Dean,” you chided, even though you were smiling. “My hair’s going to get in the batter.”
“I’ll keep it away, don’t worry,” he said lightly. He curled some of your hair around his hand so he could once again press a tantalizing kiss to the back of your neck. He felt you shiver.
You subtly leaned back against him, even as you whined in protest.
“Can you just let me get this in the oven?” you asked on a laugh. He smirked against your skin. You did manage to get the cake in the oven, but his lips and teasing hands were unrelenting as you tried to start cleaning up.
So you felt you had to take matters into your own hands. A mischievous idea had you smiling. You reached out for some flour that had spilled on the counter.
You turned, and before he realized what you were up to, you marked his forehead with an arch of white against his skin.
“Simba,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Mufasa from The Lion King.
Dean’s brows rose along with his widening eyes. He’d never seen you do something that childish, but it sparked his competitiveness as he blinked a bit of flour out of his eyes.
“You’re real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.
Your little smirk was answer enough. You flicked a bit more flour onto his shirt.
Dean chuckled darkly. “Okay, you asked for it.”
Both a gasp and a giggle caught in your throat.
“Oh, no.”
He reached past you for some flour off the counter and flicked it down at you, into your hair, across your face. He grabbed your flailing wrist and marked your cheeks. All the while, his grin grew ever deeper at your shrieking protests.
But you grew devious. You stuck two fingers into the bowl and scraped out a gob of raw, yellow batter. You were fully prepared to fling it into his face, but Dean grabbed your wrist.
“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”
You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”
Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.
He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.
Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.
He soon released you with a soft pop, before he did the same to the second finger.
Your breath hitched, and your blush was a living thing spreading down your neck, even as warmth pooled between your legs. By the time your second finger slid out of his mouth, you had to reach back to grip the counter just to steady yourself.
His arm slipped around your waist, and you reached for his face with both hands, bringing him down for the hottest kiss you’d ever had in your life. Teeth clicking, lips and tongues warring and devouring. Your fingers slipped roughly through his hair, while he gripped your hips and ass with a passion just shy of bruising.
You almost didn’t register the way his hands slipped under your thighs, to then heft you up onto the counter. You gasped into his mouth and clung tightly to his shoulders. He chuckled and positioned himself to stand between your legs.
“What, need a little warning?” he teased. Though he was breathless as your soft lips veered away from his, starting a burning path across his jaw and down his neck. You left the remnants of your lipstick all along the way, but it was the occasional graze of your teeth that had him moaning for you.
“Maybe,” you whispered coarsely against his skin, uttering a small laugh, “Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are.”
He scoffed. “Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”
You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.
And you shoved off his plaid shirt from his shoulders. Dean helped you by letting it drop the rest of the way to the floor, followed by his black undershirt.
You couldn’t believe this was the first time you were seeing him with his shirt off. It was a damn shame, really. But you caught the bit of smugness curving his lips at the way you were ogling, first with your eyes, then with your exploring hands over his toned arms and chest, and the solid plane of his abs, all the way down to his belt. You started undoing the clasp.
Dean couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he stopped you with his hands gently curling around your wrists. You looked up at him in confusion. To him, you looked unbelievably sexy then. Thoroughly kissed, hair tousled, a strap of your dress fallen to one shoulder while your lacey black bra peeked through.
Just the memory of having your curves in his hands had his dick hardening in his jeans, but he blew out a breath.
“Dean?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”
His hands tightened on yours as he peered down at you. “Are you sure?”
You blinked incredulously. “Did I look not sure?”
He paused, licking his lips. He raised a hand to hold your cheek.
“I just…you know I’m trying to do this right with you,” he said. “I just want to know…”
He couldn’t seem to finish what he was trying to say, but you thought you understood. You smiled up at him warmly. You leaned up for a kiss, softer this time.
“Dean, I trust you,” you said. And you could finally say it with no reservations. “I think this feels real. More real than anything I’ve had in a long time… What about you?”
When Dean smiled, it was warm, melting away the doubt in his eyes.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
He seemed sincere. Maybe this man spared few words when it came to how he felt, but you’d seen a glimpse of the deeper parts. He felt things deeply, down to his bones.
His fingers sunk into your hair, and he guided you into a kiss. It was slower, but no less heady and wanting than the first. Your arms wrapped around his middle, letting you flatten your palms against the muscles in his back. But just as you were getting comfortable, Dean broke the kiss. He flashed you a smirk.
Before you could ask what the hell he was about to do, he’d hefted you back into his arms and over his shoulder. You squawked in protest as your whole world tipped over. Your face thudded on his back with a soft oof, your hair loose and falling like a curtain. Your hands accidentally fell against his ass.
“Ooh, someone’s handsy,” Dean teased.
“Dean!” you exclaimed, despite your peals of laughter. “Is this really necessary? I think I can find your room just fine.”
“Call it an officer’s escort,” he supplied.
“That’s for policemen!” you argued.
You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the way he was grinning from ear to ear as he carried you through the apartment. You never noticed just how long his bowed legs were as he strode onward. But it felt like his shoulder was digging into your appendix.
Grunting in frustration, you slapped his ass again for good measure.
Dean laughed. “Hey, you’re only fueling my fire, baby.”
He slapped your ass right back, since he had an even better vantage point. He even slipped a hand underneath your little sundress and squeezed the inside of your thigh teasingly.
Your answering yelp, and the futile kick of your feet, had him laughing harder. His cheeks were aching.
Finally he reached his room, where he shut the door with his foot. He was gentle as he eased you off his shoulder and laid you down on his bed. You let out a breathless huff once your head hit the pillows. Your face was all red from being suspended upside-down, your hair a mess, and your dress pooling over your folded legs.
You gave Dean a playful glare. “Get over here.”
His smirk deepened, but he obliged you. He chucked his shoes off first, just like you let your sandals slip off the side of the bed.
He soon made his way up the bed, until he was hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He liked the way you were all laid out for him over his sheets, your wild hair spread over his pillows. He’d pictured something like this before, but nothing came close to having you for real.
He just didn’t know you’d been dreaming of the same thing.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly fall for someone, not in a long time. You’d been too focused on pivoting after school, on building your career, on taking care of your family. You’d dated here and there, but nothing had stuck for more than a few months. Even then, you’d never felt half of what you felt right now.
It scared you a little, but it also made you feel alive. Being with Dean made you feel that way.
So you took his face between your hands. His stubble rasped against your palms and the pads of your fingers. You didn’t mind that though. He’d left it a bit long for a shave last week. When you’d mentioned off-hand that you liked the thicker scruff (thinking it made him all the more handsome), he’d kept it for you. 
Now, he seemed like he was waiting on your cue.
You guided him down to you. He kissed you hot and slow, while a hand moved to your waist and clenched in the material of your dress. He slipped a heavy thigh between both of yours. The pressure was welcome, but you wanted friction.
You bunched up the skirt of your dress and aimed to slip it off, but Dean stopped your hands.
“That’s my job,” he teased.
“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.
“A bit bossy, but I can dig that,” he smirked.
His kisses dropped against your neck, down your exposed neckline, and he peeled down the straps of your dress one by one. Your breathing became more labored as he touched you, squeezing a breast over the bra as he exposed more inches of your body.
Your fingers carded through his hair on a sigh as he made his way further down. Though he finally got impatient enough to work your dress off all the way, followed by his jeans and your bra and matching lacey panties. He lavished attention what felt like all over your body.
Really, he was just strategic. He stopped in places where you lost breath, moaning his name. Like the spot just under your ear, where he sucked hard enough to make you see stars. Or over your breasts, taking a pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling with his tongue like he had the cake batter off your fingers.
His hands mapped out the soft planes and curves of your body for the first time, sometimes smooth and grazing, sometimes adding pressure that made warmth continue to pool between your legs.  
He went further still, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing nipping kisses along the inside. All the while his mouth drew closer to the place you wanted him the most. Even though you still raised up on your elbow and gave him a questioning look.
“Really? You want to…” Your voice came out in a whisper.
Dean looked up at you with puzzled brows. “Why not?”
You shook your head, your eyes widening marginally.
“No reason, I guess. I, um…I’ve never had someone do this for me first.” And certainly not on the first time having sex.
Dean frowned.
“Really?” he asked. “A guy’s never gone down on you first?”
You blushed. “Well, maybe with his fingers, but not…”
He shook his head and let out a breath. You felt it between your thighs, and your core clenched in anticipation.
“Okay, baby. I gotcha,” he said. He guided you back down with a gentle hand. “Just lie back and relax.”
You smiled, despite your lingering blush, and you stroked the hand that rested above your stomach. That hand soon slid down as he once again kissed and licked down your thighs. They quivered a bit as his fingers slipped between your folds.
“So fucking wet for me already,” he said in approval. You peered down at him, unable to help a smile.
“You want a medal?” you quipped.
Dean’s brows rose.
“Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?”
Your brows knitted together. “What?”
A familiar smirk crossed his lips. “Cherry.”
Before your choked surprise could be broken with a laugh, he began. 
And he wasn’t lying, about any of it. The pads of his fingers began toying with your clit, and that alone had your breath hitching and your hips squirming.
He held you down with one hand on your lower belly while his tongue joined his fingers, seeking your heat and finding the hot channel where you craved to be filled. You gasped.
“Oh, God,” you uttered. Once his warm tongue began rolling inside you, you almost couldn’t breathe.
He worked you over with fingers, lips and tongue until you were arching off the bed, fists clenched in his hair and in the sheets, releasing broken gasps of his name. He didn’t relent until your thighs stopped shaking around his head. Your knees were damn near pinning him there.
He eventually withdrew, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. He moved smoothly back up your body and heeded the pull of your hands on his arms, and then his face. You tugged him down for a sloppy kiss. 
“How’s that for a first?” he asked breathlessly. His tone was teasing, but he was half-serious you thought, by the look in his eyes.
You were honest, without a hint of a joke. “Fucking incredible. Just like you.”
Dean wouldn’t admit it then, but what you said warmed him. He looked down on you with a smile.
Your hands caressed his face, down his neck and firm chest, and further still to caress his straining length over his boxer briefs. Dean let out a halting moan at your gentle touch. 
“What if I want to return the favor?” you asked with a smile. He made a sound deep in his throat when you cupped him more firmly, letting your thumb brush over the head.
Well hello, you thought. He was thick, and a bit longer than your first thought. Your already sensitive core tightened at the thought. 
Meanwhile, Dean squeezed your arm. His hot gaze bore into yours.
“Very, very tempting.” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “I’ve no doubt you’ve got some talents yourself.”
You smiled under the pad of his thumb. Part of you was contemplating some retribution, sucking it into your mouth the way he’d done to your fingers in the kitchen.
“But I’m thinkin’ I want to skip to the part where I have you coming apart all over again,” said Dean. His head bowed near your ear, though his lips skimmed the side of your face. “This time, from the inside.”
His voice was deep and threaded with grit. You bit your lip on a giddy laugh. You managed to nod, sweeping your shaky fingers through his hair.
“Okay, next time then,” you promised and gave him a sensuous kiss. “But first, just want to make sure you’re ready for me…”
You leaned down to slide his underwear for him, down to his knees. He helped you the rest of the way, kicking them off his legs. When he came back, you were sitting up.
You soothed warm hands along his thighs and took his cock into your hands. Dean dropped his forehead onto your shoulder with a grunt, again squeezing your arms as you touched him properly for the first time.
Dean had a habit of impressing you, and this was no different. You liked the feel of him in your hands, warm and thick and heavy.
After licking your hand to coat it with some wetness, you experimented for a moment in how you stroked him, trying to get a feel for what he liked just as he had for you. He gasped and jolted on one particular twist, and he finally stopped you with a hand on your wrist.
“Okay, baby. Keep that up and we’re not gonna get much farther for a while,” he said coarsely.
It was satisfying to know you’d made him feel even a fraction of how he’d made you feel.
You pressed a purposeful kiss into his neck. “I told you, next time I’ll take care of you for real.”
He chuckled, cupping the side of your face.
“Oh, you’re about to. Believe me,” he said.
He kissed you long and deep, until you were once again breathless. The two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed like you had all the time in the world. And yet, you wanted him more than ever.
“I’m on birth control,” you told him between more fervent kisses, hands drifting, feeling skin to warm, dewy skin, breaths mingling.
“And I’m clean,” he said. You nodded, hesitating…
“It’s our first time,” you said. “Condom, just to be safe.”
He hesitated only a beat before he nodded back, agreeing to your request. “Yes, ma’am.”
He broke from you briefly. He turned and dug into his nightstand while your nails drew light patterns down his back. It was distracting in the best of ways. A trill of excitement had his hands moving quickly, ripping the foil packet open and fitting himself with the condom.
When he was ready for you, he turned and hooked an arm around your waist. You twined your arms around his neck, and once again, you let him lay you down. His kiss came first, and then his fingers between your legs, past your folds to stroke you back to life.
You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his hips. Though he surprised you again by hooking your legs over his shoulders. Your brows raised at him, and he shot you a wink.
“Trust me, you’ll like it this way,” he said.
You did trust him. Your hands caressed down his neck, down his chest, and you subtly urged him with your heels on his back, encouraging him where you both knew he needed to be.
And with one slow push, his cock was stretching your inner walls with slow, delicious friction. You both groaned at the feeling. His forehead pressed against yours. His hand trembled slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. And he began moving inside you in steady strokes.
Dean was putting his all into this tonight. He thought your promises to take care of him next time were as endearing as they were sexy as hell. Even now, you were touching him wherever you could reach, occasionally moaning his name in his ear, encouraging him with every thrust inside you.
Fuck, he was right, you thought. He was reaching places deep inside you, filling you to the very brim. And you were already on the edge of pleasure, brows furrowed, biting your lower lip so hard that your teeth nearly broke the skin…
Your fingers slipped down between you to further part your folds and rub your already sensitive clit. Dean caught the hint and moved your hand to do it himself, as in time with his thrusts as he could. Finally, you unraveled for the second time that night. Your gasp gave way to a moan.
Your tightening walls gripped him like a vice. His release hit him with the same force, choking a near shout out of him. His hand was a bit too tight in your hair, he realized, so he forced himself to ease up.
He petted over your hair instead as he came down with ragged breaths. After he released your shaky legs back to the bed, he leaned mostly on his elbow and thigh instead of sinking all his weight onto you.
You appreciated that. You soothed up and down his back while you panted for breath.
“Wow,” you managed to say.
Dean’s chuckle took him by surprise too.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He turned his head to press a sloppy kiss where your neck met your shoulder.
Just then, a distant-sounding jingle reached your ears. It was familiar…and you remembered it was the alarm on your phone, which was probably in the kitchen.
“Oh shit,” you gasped. “The cake’s still in the oven.”
He blinked. “Well, I don’t smell burning, so we’re good.”
“Dean! You’re a firefighter, remember?” you laughed, but you still tapped his shoulder so he’d roll over. Reluctantly he did, but he still took you with him, even after he’d slid out of you.
You yelped and clung to his shoulders to balance yourself. “I gotta get the cake!”
“Five more minutes,” he grumbled into your neck. He also liked the way your breasts were pressed against his chest.
“It’s going to be so…damn…burnt!” You punctuated each of those syllables with a playful smack on his arm, until he finally released you with a lazy smirk.
You shook your head and huffed in amusement. Sliding out of bed, you searched around your dress. The first thing you found was his discarded undershirt. You slipped it on real quick and cautiously padded out of Dean’s room. You didn’t know if Sam was back from work, but this was not how you wanted to meet him.
The halls were quiet, so you didn’t think he was home yet. You managed to get to the kitchen unscathed, where you turned off your timer and grabbed some oven mitts. You opened the oven and pulled out the cake, setting it down on the counter. Your eyes narrowed at the almost perfect dome on top.
“What’s the verdict, Chef Ramsay?”
Dean leaned in the doorway, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. The view was delectable, but you sighed and gestured at the cake with a shake of your head.
“It’s burnt.”
“What? No, it’s not,” he refuted. He joined your side and stared down at the top of the cake, which was half browned. “Looks all right to me.”
“Trust me, it’s going to be dry,” you said, “even with the lemon drizzle on it.”
It was the perfectionist in you that smarted with disappointment. You didn’t want to serve anyone something you weren’t proud of, especially Dean. But he just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’m still gonna eat the crap out of it.”
You glanced at him, unable to help a small smile. He grinned back.
“Anyway, I think it was worth it. Don’t you?” Dean said. He pulled you in towards him by your waist, and you went willingly, resting your hands against his bare chest. You let your nails drag against his skin a little as you contemplated.
You looked up at him with a grin of your own.
“Yeah. Definitely worth it.”
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Dean later sat with you again at the table, this time with your chairs closer together as you each ate large slices of delicious cake (even if it was a bit dry). Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the copious number of dishes still left in the sink and the flour and batter sprinkled across the counter.
He knew Sam was going to have a conniption when he got home (in the morning at this rate). He was probably crashing at Eileen’s apartment tonight.
Good, Dean thought. That meant he’d have the place all to himself, with you.
“You know, I just realized something,” he said.
You knew that look in his eyes. He was about to say something smartass.
“What’s that?” you asked. He reached out and thumbed at your chin.
“I just got my dessert twice in one sitting,” he remarked. “That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.”
You snorted in laughter. You also blushed, but you were unable to stop smiling either.
You set down your fork and eased back from the table. Your hand on Dean’s shoulder encouraged him to do the same, so you could sit across his lap. He welcomed you with a warm hand on your bare thigh. Already it was creeping under the shirt you borrowed.
You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand and gave him a mischievous smile.
“Think you could handle another serving?”
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AN: 🫣 Was it everything you wanted it to be? lol I love me some baking innuendo. What did you like more: eating the cherry pie or making the lemon drizzle? 😏❤️‍🔥
In Part 8, Dean's past comes a knockin'...
Next Time:
While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.
You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps of your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.
From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘
Keep Reading: PART 8
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
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mysmuttyself · 10 days
Text
My care for you
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Rating: 18+
Summary: When Y/n's baking session is interrupted by the magnetic presence of Dean Winchester, their encounter in the kitchen heats up far beyond the oven's temperature.
Tags: Smut, p in v, kitchen sex, pure filth, improper use of pie, possessive Dean, dirty talk, established relationship,
Word count: 809
A/N: This is basically just me pining for Dean freacking Winchester. I baked i pie last week and i got inspired. Please be nice English is not my first language. Enjoy ;)
Everything was ready. The dough had been stored in the fridge to chill. Y/n expertly sliced the apples, the knife gliding through the fruit with practiced ease, she then drizzled them with lemon juice, before pouring the slices in a pan to simmer with sugar and cinnamon.
She was just adding the last touch, a sprinkle of nutmeg, when she felt two strong, calloused hands surround her just below the waist. His scent enveloped her, a combination of musk and amber, strong enough to weaken her knees.
"De" said Y/n in a plaintive tone. She had leaned his head against his solid, muscular chest. "Would you like me to finish this pie for you?"
Dean's lips curved into a playful smile against her neck. He continued to stroke the skin around her ribcage.
"I know baby, it's that you look so damn hot when you cook for me my favourite plate, so caring and sweet, good enough to eat."
He peppered kisses along her neck, and she melted in his arms.
As Dean continued to trail kisses down Y/n's neck, his hands moved lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress the soft skin of her stomach. Y/n's breath hitched, a shiver of anticipation running through her as she leaned back into his touch.
"Dean," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "what about the pie? I could burn the filling"
Dean's smirk only widened as he murmured huskily, "Screw the pie, sweetheart. Right now, all I want to do is fill you up"
She just had the time to turn off the stove before he spun her around, pressing her against the kitchen counter with a hungry urgency. His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as desire surged between them. Y/n moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered completely to him.
Dean's hands roamed eagerly over her body, pulling the fabric of her skirt up.
“Look at the mess you made baby, is this all for me?” He asked moving the dampening panties to the side to reveal her wet core. Y/n arched into his touch unable to answer, aching for more as he started to tease her, rocking his till clothed shaft against her wet folds.
"Dean," she gasped, her voice thick with need, "please..."
Her plea hung in the air like a silent prayer, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response. Dean's darkened gaze met hers, a flicker of primal hunger flashing in his eyes as he leaned in close, his lips grazing her earlobe with a tantalizing whisper.
“Tell me what you need sweetheart” he breathed, his sultry low voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I need you, I need your cock” Y/n begged him. A primal growl rumbled from deep within Dean's chest. His desire for her burned hot and fierce, matching the intensity of her own need.
"Then you shall have me" Dean husked, in one swift motion, he freed himself from his clothing, his throbbing length springing eagerly into view. Y/n's breath caught in her throat at the sight. He was beautifully thick, if a cock could have been defined pretty, it was Dean’s.
Without a word, Dean positioned himself between her trembling thighs, his hands gripping her hips possessively as he guided himself to her slick entrance.
“Are gonna be a good girl? Take me nice and deep?” He asked her in a so very low tone.
“Yes, yes, Dean please” With a slow, torturous push, he entered her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both
Y/n gasped as Dean filled her completely, every inch of him stretching and filling her in the most delicious way imaginable. She clung to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he began to move with a rhythm that was both primal and intoxicating.
With each thrust, Dean drove Y/n to the brink of ecstasy, his name falling from her lips in a breathless mantra of desire.
“Tell me that you are mine” His words, laden with desire and command.
"I'm yours, Dean," she gasped, her voice trembling with need. "All yours."
With each thrust, Dean claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. When Dean's calloused hand reached to stimulate her clit, it was too much for Y/n.
She exploded in a climax of lust, and Dean reached his own orgasm a couple of thrusts later, moaning her name.
They looked at each other for what seemed like endless seconds. Then he finally smiled and said, “Looks like we worked up an appetite” murmuring as he reached for the nearby apple pie filling. He sucked on his finger and then fed it to her.
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yeonzzzn · 4 months
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☕️beside you: niki
a you complete me series: two / seven
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pairing: niki x afab!reader
word count: 1.5k
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synopsis: luckily niki’s birthday fell on a saturday and with the help of the pack you made his birthday morning special
genre: established relationship, vampire!niki, vampire!reader
warnings: mentions of blood, cutie pie birthday boy niki ♡
p1: vampires bleeding mlist
☾ sunghoon(1) | niki(2) | heeseung(3) | jungwon(4) | jake(5) | jay(6) | sunoo(7) ☽
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You spent weeks trying to make Niki’s birthday perfect. 
You bothered the boys nonstop about perfect gifts or things to do for him and with him. 
The boys gave you plenty of ideas, and they were so perfect. 
Until the day before his birthday, a snowstorm pulled in. 
You blamed Sunghoon, for being the ice vampire prince that he was. Mr. Penguin in his past life as his mate calls him. 
The school was even canceled Friday morning. Which obviously Niki and you were happy about. 
But then all your plans went out the window. 
“Jay! I don’t know what to do!” you whispered into the phone, peeking around the living room making sure Niki’s eyes and ears were still glued to the video game on the television, “Everything closed down.” 
Jay sighed on the other end of the phone, “What does Heeseung say?” 
You shrugged your shoulders as if Jay could see it, “What even would Heeseung be able to do?” 
“You both live with him,” Jay scoffed, “Did you even think to see what Heeseung could help plan?” 
You rolled your eyes, “Heeseung has been at the hospital all day, and __ is stuck at the hospital with him because of the storm.” 
Even with Jay’s silence, you could hear his annoyance through the phone. 
“I could bake him a cake?” Jay finally said, “I can bake it now and sneak it over there tonight.”
Your eyes brightened, “Please! Jay, thank you so much!” 
“Yeah yeah,” he groaned, you could hear his face dropping into his hands, “I’ll call Heeseung and let him know too.” 
You thanked him again and ended the call. 
Out of the side of his eye, Niki saw you walking back into the living room. 
He smiled wide, pushing the right side of his headset off his ear, leaning into the corner of the couch, and patting the space between his legs. 
You sat between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. Niki rested his hands on your lap, fingers button smashing on the controller. 
“Where did you run off to?” Niki asked, resting his head against yours. 
“Missed me that much already?” you teased him. 
Niki chuckled, “I always miss you when you aren’t beside me.” 
“I just went to call Heeseung,” you lied, “I wanted to make sure they were okay at the hospital due to this storm.” 
Niki shrugged, not having any thoughts or worries, “Hyung and __ are vampires, a little snow won’t hurt.” 
You shrugged. 
“I bet Sunghoon Hyung is having the time of his life.” 
You agreed, “Want to watch a movie?” 
Not even ten minutes into the movie Niki was slumped on the couch and passed out. Which was what you were hoping for. 
You kept checking outside, moving the blinds every few minutes to see when Jay would appear with the cake. 
Almost fifteen minutes passed before Jay walked up the steps of the apartment complex and to your door. 
You quietly opened it, placing your finger to your lips, “He’s asleep on the couch,” 
Jay nodded, carefully slipping in with Heeseung and __ following behind him. 
“Jeez, that snow is terrible,” Heeseung whispered, sliding his coat off his body and onto the coat rack. 
“Welcome home my king and queen,” you teased them, earning glares from not just Heeseung and his mate, but also from Jay. 
“I said you don’t have to call us that,” Heeseung sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, “We aren’t even fully oathed.” 
Jay placed Niki’s cake in the fridge, pointing at it and then at Niki, basically saying to not let him get into the fridge. 
Jay also sat at the table, wrapping his arms together, “Maybe you should go take the oath,” he said looking between the king and queen, “Now that you have a mate.” 
Heeseung shrugged, “I’ll think about it,” he looked over at the sleeping Niki, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
You snuck out of your room, the smell of coffee filling the apartment. 
You tipped toe to Niki’s room, carefully opening the door, and seeing him still asleep. After closing the door gently, you carefully walked into the kitchen. 
Heeseung was brewing the coffee while __ was setting up the table. 
“We can take the cake out in a few minutes,” she said, “Once Heeseung finishes the coffee we will pull the cake out.” 
You nodded, grabbing four blood bags from the fridge and setting them down on the table, “He might wake up soon, so we have to hurry.” 
She finished putting the plates, utensils, and napkins on the table beside everyone’s blood bags. Heeseung placed the cake in the middle, placing the candles on the top. 
“I think it’s time to wake him up ourselves,” Heeseung whispered, “If he already woke up he isn’t going to come out since it’s Saturday.” 
You nodded, “Light the candles then, I’ll go get him.” 
You carefully opened his door, Niki was still very much asleep. 
You slowly walked to his bed, sitting down on the edge, “Wake up, cutie pie.” you softly spoke, tapping your mate's shoulder. 
Niki’s eyes fluttered open, a small smile forming on his face, “Good morning,” 
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Niki sat up in bed, stretching his arms out before pulling you close to him, “Let’s go back to sleep.” 
“Oh no no no,” you place your hands on his shoulders, pushing yourself back, “It’s time to get up.” 
Niki narrowed his eyes at you, he knew you were up to something, “What are you planning?” 
You bat your eyes at him, “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe you. 
Niki wasn’t stupid. It’s his birthday today, there’s no way you didn’t have anything planned for him. 
But he knew if he didn’t get up now, his hyung would be marching in here himself. 
“Okay,” he said, cupping your face with his hands, “You’re up to something, Y/N, I can feel it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Just get up and get dressed. Brush your teeth too!” 
Niki giggled, placing a soft kiss on your nose before he kicked you out of his room so he could change. 
Niki walked out of the bathroom, after freshening up. 
The apartment was dark, only the light from the windows came through. 
He walked down the hall, to turn the corner to see you, Heeseung, and __ standing by the table with the light from the candles brightening the room. 
A happy birthday banner hung on the wall, with a few red, yellow, and blue balloons. 
Niki couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. How could he possibly even fight it? His loved ones were standing in front of him, celebrating his day. 
They sang to him, causing Niki to hide his face in his hands. 
You rushed him over to the table, “Make a wish, baby.” 
Niki blew the candles out, the room falling darker but the sounds of his family cheering and clapping filled the darkness. 
Once the lights were turned on, everyone sat at the table. 
Heeseung cut the pancake-flavored cake, which was perfect for a breakfast food item for today, and passed a piece to everyone along with their coffee. 
Even though vampires don’t need food, it was fun to enjoy it now and then. 
Niki sipped on his blood bag, looking between his hyung, his mate, and you. His heart raced faster from the happiness he was feeling. 
One by one, the rest of the members of the pack called and wished him a happy birthday. 
Jake: “Happy birthday mate! Here’s to many more brother!”
Jake’s mate: “Enjoy your day little brother! Don’t cause too much chaos!”
Sunghoon: “Damn you’re getting older…but I am glad I share my birthday with you.” 
Sunghoon’s mate: “You’ve grown a lot since we met, even with you being stuck at seventeen, you’re still growing older and wiser by the day. Happy birthday!” 
Jungwon & his mate: “YOI!!! Happy birthday!!” 
Jay: “Happy birthday little bro, enjoy the cake I baked for you.” 
Jay’s mate: “Make sure to make plenty of birthday wishes and continue to raise hell! Happy birthday, Niki!” 
The smile on Niki’s face wouldn’t leave, he could feel the muscles in his face getting sore from how much he was smiling and laughing. 
You eventually leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling close to him, “I am sorry your birthday couldn’t have been celebrated more. The snowstorm took us all by surprise.”
Niki wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, “I don’t need a fancy birthday party or even a fancy day to be celebrated a certain way. This way was perfect.” 
You nodded, tangling your fingers with his, “What did you wish for when you blew the candles out?” 
Niki shook his head, “Nothing.” 
You sat up and looked at him, “Why not!?” 
All Niki could do was smile, placing his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Because I already have my wish. To be beside you for the rest of eternity.” 
You softly smiled, “But you already get that.” 
He nodded, looking between you, Heeseung, and __, “Having you all beside me is enough. I couldn’t be more thankful for you guys, thank you for an amazing birthday.” 
Heeseung clapped, “Here’s to you, brother.” 
You pull Niki into a hug, “Happy birthday, Nishimura Riki, I love you so much.” 
He hugged you back tighter, resting his face on your shoulder, “I love you too, thank you so much.”
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betterthanburrow · 5 months
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The Halloween Party - Joe Burrow
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Summary: After many years of Joe and you doing the same routine on Halloween every year, you decided that this year’s Halloween would be celebrated differently in your new dream house… and maybe you can find out the reason why your boyfriend hates to celebrate the spooky holiday so much.
Genre: Fluff (Established Relationship)
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There was no one you knew that hated Halloween more than your boyfriend, Joe Burrow. As soon as the weather started to get a little more colder and the stores started to put the Halloween items on display, the NFL Quarterback would immediately become grumpy at the sight of any Halloween decor which made you so curious as to why he hated the holiday.
At the beginning of your relationship, when you had noticed the hatred your boyfriend had towards Halloween you thought it because of an incident that happened during his childhood; but according to Joe’s mother, he loved to celebrate Halloween and didn’t stop dressing up in a costume and going trick or treating until his senior year of High School.
While you weren’t the biggest fan of Halloween, you did enjoy decorating the front porch with Halloween decorations and watching your favorite Halloween movies from your childhood… you didn’t make a big deal out of the holiday like other people around your age but, you couldn’t just ignore the holiday.
Joe and you have been in a relationship for a few years now, which meant the two of you have celebrated Halloween together… and by celebrating Halloween, means leaving a bowl of candy on the front porch and praying that the one large bag of candy that you had bought at the grocery store lasts the whole night for the kids in your neighborhood that are trick or treating.
The house smelt like pumpkin pie as you had just set the freshly baked pumpkin pie on the kitchen counter, Joe might hate Halloween but he loves pumpkin pie… but instead of a sight of delight from Joe, you heard a loud groan of annoyance from him as another Halloween commercial appeared on the TV.
“Why do you always get so annoyed at the Halloween commercials?” you asked, walking into the living room then taking a seat right next to him on the couch.
“Because it’s not even Halloween yet!” Joe answered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you closer to his chest.
“Joe, Halloween is in two weeks.” you stated, “Of course they’re going to be promoting the sales on costumes and the movies that will be playing on TV.”
“Halloween is a one day holiday… Why do people spend weeks celebrating a one day holiday?” Joe asked.
“You could say the same thing about every other holiday.” you responded, as you say up from your spot next to Joe. “Besides, your mom told me that you used to love Halloween when you were a kid… she told me that you used to sleep in your costumes for many nights before and after Halloween. What happened to you loving to celebrate Halloween?”
Joe didn’t give you a verbal answer, he just shrugged his shoulders and focused his attention back to the TV.
“You can’t just shrug your shoulders to get out of giving me an answer.” you say. “I’ve been wanting an answer from you for years and you never tell me why you hate Halloween so much?”
“There’s not a specific reason why I don’t like Halloween… I’m just not a little kid that wants to dress up in a costume and go trick or treating when I can just buy the candy that I like at the store.” Joe responds.
“I’m not a little kid either… but at least I’m not throwing a tantrum when seeing people celebrate Halloween throughout the entire month of October.” you stated.
“I don’t throw tantrums seeing people celebrate Halloween…”Joe says. “I just don’t think Halloween is a holiday that is worth celebrating for a month.”
“I think there’s more to the story about why you hate Halloween…” you said. “I’ll find out why one day.”
“You’ve been asking me why I hate Halloween for the past few years… and I’ve given you the same answer every year.” Joe responds. “I’m not hiding a dark secret about a fear that I have about Halloween.”
“I didn’t believe you the first time that I asked you about why you hate Halloween and I definitely don’t believe you now.” you exclaimed.
Joe rolled his eyes and pulled you towards him to lay your head on his head as a signal for you to end the conversation… As Joe focused on his TV show, your mind wondered to how you could be able to figure out about why Joe hates Halloween so much, you had already asked his mom and she didn’t have an answer.
In that moment, you decided this year’s Halloween would be different than every Halloween that Joe and you had spent together in the past… While you might leave out a bowl of candy for the kids in your neighborhood that will be trick or treating, you decided that the two of you will celebrate Halloween together and there will be no excuse that could get your boyfriend out of this situation.
-
For the past two weeks, you had been scheming a plan for how you and Joe would be celebrating Halloween differently this year… It was easier said than done to plan everything, but the funnest part about scheming this plan was that Joe has no idea about it.
Joe had been so focused the past few days after the end of the Bengals’ Bye Week during Week 7 in preparation for the football game against the San Francisco 49ers… so it was easy to be able get everything prepared for how the two of you would be spending Halloween differently this year.
Ever since Joe and you moved into your new house during the off-season after living in a townhouse for the past 3 years, you always wanted to throw a party in your new house… and while you weren’t planning a huge party on Halloween knowing that Joe had practice the next day, you knew he wouldn’t be too mad if you planned a small get together.
As you finished getting everything prepared for the small get together, you hear Joe’s car drive into the garage… The Bengals were very generous to give the team a short practice so that they players can home and celebrate Halloween in whatever way they want.
The only bad thing about The Bengals Team having a short price today was that you didn’t have much time to decorate the kitchen and living room for the small get together… but thankfully, you were able to get all the decorations that you had bought behind Joe’s back out of the boxes and on display in the house.
“Woah… It looks like Halloween-Town threw up in our house.” Joe says as he slowly walks into the house, dropping his bag on the floor. There was a look of confusion on his face while there a smile on your face. “Is there a reason why there are Halloween decorations up in the house?” he asked.
“Please don’t be mad.” you say, as you slowly walk over towards Joe, then placing your hands on his shoulder. “So I decided that I wanted us to celebrate Halloween differently this year… so I planned a small get together with some of our close friends to celebrate Halloween.”
There’s a blank expression on his face as he processing what you just told him, you didn’t know what he was thinking and you were praying to yourself that he wasn’t too upset that you did this behind his back.
“Now it all makes sense…” Joe mumbles, which causes you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“What makes sense now?” you asked. You could’ve sworn that you had been so secretive from Joe about planning this small party begin his back.
“You don’t think I didn’t notice how sneaky you’ve been lately.” he asked, “I knew you had been planning something behind my back, I just couldn’t figure out what you were planning.” 
“So you’re not mad at me for planning this event behind your back?” you asked, Joe shakes his head and pulls you into hug with a soft smile on his face.
“No I’m not mad.” he says, “I guess it might be fun to do something different for Halloween this year.”
You place a kiss on his cheek and pull away from the hug. “I’m glad you’re not mad, because we would still be having this Halloween get-together whether you were in a good mood or a bad mood.”
Joe rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. “As long as I don’t have to dress up in a costume and everyone is gone by midnight then having a party is fine.”
“It’s not a party…. it’s a get-together!” you exclaim.
“I think a small party and a small get-together are the same thing.” Joe stated, before he kissed your cheek and picked up his bag from the floor to start walking towards the stairs to your bedroom.
You turned around and slowly walked behind him with a smirk on your face knowing that he didn’t know what else you had planned for the night.
When Joe enters the bedroom and places his bag in the closet, he notices two packages on the bed. You’re standing at the bedroom door, watching as he picked up the packages off the bed to examine them.
After just a few seconds, he turns around with both packages in his hands and he sees the smile on your face. “I always said yes to the party, I’m not dressing up in a costume!” Joe exclaims.
“You have to dress up in a costume Joe! You can’t host a Halloween get-together without wearing a costume!” you exclaim.
“Out of all the couples costume choices in the world… You just had to choose Barbie and Ken?!” Joe asked.
“Yes because it’s the year of Barbie!” you answer, walking towards him grabbing your costume package out of his hand. “This might be the only opportunity that I have for us to wear matching costumes, so I chose the best choice for our couples costume!”
“And I had no say in the choice of our costume?” Joe asked. You shake your head no, and once again he rolled his eyes with a grin on his face. “And I have no choice whether I want to wear that costume or not?”
You shake your head no and kiss his cheek. Before walking towards the bathroom to change into your costume and to do your make-up. “The guests will be here in about two hours… so don’t waste any time being upset over a costume because I know you’re going to love being cowboy Ken!” you exclaim.
The bathroom door shuts and Joe looks down at the package in his hands, with a smile on his face. He don’t know what he was getting himself into tonight by agreeing to host a Halloween party.
Joe started to open the costume package before getting an idea in a head, he throws the package onto the bed before going to the closet and taking out the Alien mask that he wore to San Francisco this past weekend.
“Can I just wear my alien mask?” he shouted.
“No!” you shouted back from the bathroom. “If I come out of the bathroom to see you wearing the Alien mask… I’m cutting your dick off with a pair of scissors and selling your dick on E-Bay!”
-
The Halloween Party was going better than you could’ve imagined it to go… Everyone was dressed up in different costumes and was enjoying themselves amongst each other. Somehow you were able to pull off putting a Halloween party together all by yourself and Joe was very impressed at that.
You may have told him that it was just a small Halloween get-together so that he wouldn’t be too upset that you planned this event behind his back but as he looked around from where he stood in the kitchen, this was a Halloween party.
All the times he was forced to attend a Halloween party when he was at college, he always had a miserable experience which gave him more of a reason to not like celebrating Halloween… and Joe didn’t want to admit it to you just yet, but he was having a lot of fun tonight.
As Joe took a sip of his drink one of his best friends since college Sam Hubbard walked up to him, “Hey man! Nice cowboy costume!” Sam exclaimed. “I saw that Y/N wearing a similar costume, y’all are really wearing a couples costume?!”
Joe nodded his head, “It’s from the new Barbie movie. You know how obsessed she’s been over the movie since before it was released in theaters.” he said.
“I seriously thought that I would’ve walked in the house to see you in that alien mask again.” Sam said. “I still can’t believe you lost that bet to Ja’marr and was forced to wear it throughout the entire plane ride.”
“I would’ve worn it… but Y/N threatened to cut my dick off with scrissors and sell it on E-Bay.” Joe joked.
Sam laughed, “Tell her we need you and your dick if we want to continue the winning streak that we currently have.” he says.
“You need your dick to win a football game?” you asked walking up to Sam and Joe after overhearing their conversation as you were walking by.
Both men laughed at how confused you were over their conversation. Once you were close enough in his reach, Joe wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him then you wrap your arms around his waist and kisses your forehead.
“It’s complicated to explain…” Joe stated. “Let’s just say that we need all of our body parts to win a game.”
Before Sam could add onto Joe’s statement, his name was called by his girlfriend who wanted him to be her partner for Beer Pong that was set up in the backyard.
As Sam walks away from the two of you, Joe looks down at you and there’s a smile on his face. “Are you having fun at your Halloween party?” he asked.
“It’s not a party… it’s a small Halloween get-together!” you exclaim, looking up at Joe.
“I’ve been to many parties and I’ve been to many small get-togethers… I think this event classifies as a party.” Joe explain.
“Ugh whatever Joe!” you say in a sarcastic tone, rolling your eyes. You weren’t going to playfully argue with him knowing how far he could take the argument… Joe laugh at your response and leaned towards you to give you a kiss.
“You didn’t answer my question… Are you having fun at the party?” Joe asked again, as he pulled away from you but his arm still wrapped around your shoulder keeping you close to him.
You nodded your head, “I am having fun… and thank you for not being too upset that I planned all of this behind your back… I just wanted to do something fun and different for once during this year’s Halloween.”
A small frown appeared on Joe’s face, “I would never be upset at you… If anything I’m upset at myself for making your feel like you had to do this behind my back instead of just talking to me. I thought you liked our tradition of binge-watching Halloween movies?”
“I do love that tradition!” you exclaim. “But I also know how much you loved celebrating Halloween when you were a kid compared to how you hate the holiday now… and I wanted to do something to show you that you still love to celebrate Halloween!”
“So you planned a party to get me to celebrate Halloween differently this year… because you think I hate Halloween now that I’m an adult.” Joe stated.
“I didn’t plan a party… I planned a small get-together.” you respond. “And yes I did all of this because I know deep down inside, you love to celebrate Halloween by actually doing something with the people you love and not falling asleep while watching Halloween movies.”
Joe should’ve been mad at you… if anyone else had planned a Halloween party (not a small Halloween get-together) at his house behind his back (even if he was a bit suspicious about what was going on) he would’ve been upset and told everyone that the party was canceled, but he could’ve been mad or upset at you.
He gave you a smile and pulled you closer to him into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed your cheek. “I could never be mad at you… especially if you did all of this behind my back just to make me happy.” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine.
You lean back and give him a smile before placing your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward to kiss him… There weren’t many people around in the kitchen since most of them were in the living room or in the backyard, so the two of you were a little more comfortable than usual in a public setting displaying affection towards each other.
The two of you pulled away from each other when you heard someone calling your names, Joe and you look in the direction of where the voice was coming from…
“Come on you two love birds!” Sam yelled out, “It’s time for Barbie and Ken to play some beer pong!”
You turned your head back towards Joe before pulling away from him and grabbing his hand as the two of you walked out to the backyard to see all of your guests hanging around with each other.
For many months you imagined what it would be like to host your own social event at the dream house that you and Joe had spent so much time and money planning out over the past few years… This moment right here with your boyfriend and all of your close friends was better than you could’ve imagined.
-
It was close to midnight and the Halloween party had been going on for a few hours and it was finally wrapping up. Some people had already said their goodbyes and left and some people were wrapping up their final conversations before heading out the door.
Joe took a seat on the stairway, watching you talk to a few of your best friends as they were getting ready to leave and go back home… He was talking to a lot of different people for the majority of the night, and wanted to take a few minutes to be by himself.
It had been so many years since Joe actually celebrated Halloween, he forgot how much fun it can be to dress up in a costume (even if it’s not a costume that he would’ve chosen to wear for himself) and spend the night with his close friends.
He was impressed by how you were able to put together everything for the Halloween party all by yourself from planning the event and creating the guest-list to putting up all the decorations… If he’s honest with himself, he feels guilty about how open he has been about his hatred towards Halloween that you thought he wouldn’t want to help you out.
“So did you have fun at the party?” you say, interrupting his thoughts. Joe looks up from the ground to see you smiling with a drink in each hand.
“I hate to admit it… but I had fun tonight.” he said as you handed him a drink then sitting down next to him on the stairway. “And I’m glad to see that you’re finally admitting that this was a party and not a get together.”
“So does this mean we can throw a Halloween party again next year?” you asked.
“We can discuss that next year.” Joe answered. “Is the party officially over?”
You nodded your head then leaned your body closer to him and laid you head on his shoulder. “Yes the party is officially over Mr. I hate Halloween.” you say.
“I told you… I don’t hate Halloween.” Joe stated. “I used to love celebrating Halloween… I didn’t stop going trick or treating until my last year of high school.”
“Then you hated Halloween every year since…” you say.
Joe sighed, “Halloween was my favorite holiday, i loved to celebrate Halloween more than Christmas… but it’s not the same to celebrate like when we were kids. I guess I just refused to learn how to celebrate Halloween like an adult that isn’t partying and because of that, I just started to become grumpy man around this time of the year.”
You lift your head off Joe’s shoulder and a sad smile appeared on your face, seeing that his attention is focused on the ground. “There are ways to celebrate Halloween, of course we’re too old to go trick or treating according to the rules made by people are older than us by many generations… I understand that it can be hard to celebrate a holiday that loses the magic whenever we grow up but, we have to learn to adapt to new traditions on holidays.”
Joe looks up from the ground and gives you a smile, “And those new traditions include us putting out a bowl of candy out on the front porch for the kids that are trick or treating in the neighborhood and you staying up past midnight watching all of your favorite Halloween movies while I sleep?”
You nod your head and peck his lips, “Yes those new traditions… but also the new tradition of having a Halloween party every year because everyone at the party saw that you were having a great time!”
Joe rolls his eyes and the smile on his face gets bigger. “I told you… We’ll talk about that next year.” he says.
You smiled back at Joe, knowing that the two of you would definitely be hosting a Halloween party at the house next year this time with Joe helping you plan it… You learned you head onto Joe’s shoulder and the two of you sat in a silence for a few moments, listening to the Halloween music playing from the radio.
It was just a few minutes later when you got an idea that cause you to lift your head up from Joe’s shoulder, Joe’s eyes furrowed as he watched you stand up and grab his hand forcing him to stand up as well.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as you dragged him along with you to the front door. You turned around and gave him a smile before opening the front door and pushing him to be outside… and before Joe could say anything the front door was shut in his face.
“Y/N?” He yelled, knocking on the door.
You answered the front door with a bigger smile on your face and a bucket of candy in your hand as you leaned against the doorway.
“What a cute costume you are wearing Mr. Ken Cowboy!” you exclaim. “I bet your cute girlfriend at home picked out that lovely costume for you to wear!”
Joe rolled his eyes and pretended to just play along with this act because deep down inside, he knew you were just trying to make him feel little bit better.
“Yes she did.” Joe responded. “I wish she was here trick or treating with me right now.”
“Maybe she has a treat for you when you get back home.” you said, winking at Joe which causes him to laugh. “Now I know it’s been a few years since you’ve done this so do you remember what to say?”
“Trick or Treat.” he said, putting his hand out and you grabbed a handful of candy from the bucket to put in his hand… There wasn’t much candy left since most of the guests had been eating pieces of candy throughout the night, so Joe ended up with a handful of candy that he didn’t like.
“Thank you.” he says, before leaning closer to you and giving you a kiss on your lips then you grabbed his hand pulling him inside the house and he shuts the front door behind him and locks it.
“Do I get the treat now?!” Joe asked, raising his eyebrows with a smirk on his face. “Because giving me a handful of my least favorite candy was a trick.”
This time you were rolling your eyes, “I guess you can get your treat now.” you responded.
A cheeky grin appeared on Joe’s face before he wrapped his arms around your waist to pick you up. The candy falling out is his hand and onto the floor as you let out a laugh while wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carried you upstairs to the bedroom.
While it was past midnight which means Halloween was officially over and the two of you know that tomorrow would be a long day of taking down all the decorations… it was safe to say that the two of you have officially started a new Halloween tradition to continue on during the next few years.
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Author’s Note:
Happy Halloween! it’s been a few weeks since my last fanfiction was published so i hope you enjoyed reading this Halloween special fanfiction! (even though i’m still taking a break from writing, i wanted to published a fanfiction in honor of Halloween)
thank you for all of the love and support! 🤍
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saltofmercury · 1 year
Note
Oh you König domestic works are absolute bliss, hun <3
Might I request some more domesticity with König x reader perhaps baking together? I could see this being absolutely adorable.
Cheers,
"Chocolate crepes"
You searched for anything throughout his pantry, mouth watering, stomach grumbling, and patience thinning. It had started as a small craving, small bits of chocolate that you wanted to indulge in. It was around eleven at night, your body was in desperate need of chocolate —something. Chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake, even a brownie would suffice right now but there was nothing remotely close.
“Shit” you mumbled to yourself. Seeing the pile of dirty dishes he had left in the sink, then a rattle in the background. 
You heard the footsteps down the hall, thumping their way over. His face still swollen with sleep, his eyes barely opening up. He wore black sweats, his red-blonde hair sticking everywhere. One eye was rubbing sleep out of his eye, as the other rubbed his stomach. 
“Are you alright? I can hear you slamming cabinets and drawers from the room. Could’ve sworn it was another burglar.”
There was a sheepish smile, growing at the corner of his mouth. 
“I’m fine, I just need a midnight snack”
“A midnight snack? Well there’s plenty of cheese and salami from that board you made..”
The two of you had ordered multiple cheeses, salami, pepperoni, and prosciutto, to make a fancy board for dinner. The two of you laughed at the board being devoured before you could even make it to the dinner table. 
“Not that kind of snack, like… a treat.”
His eyes perked up. 
Treat was the “secret” word you two used to describe sweets. It was the funniest thing when you heard it from his mouth. A 6 foot 7 man calling a slice of cherry pie a treat.
His eyes widened, he had a special rule. Dedicated to the gym 6 out of the 7 days of the week, he had no sugar after 12pm, only on special occasions such as birthdays or anniversaries. You were tempting him, he had gone almost two weeks without sugar to really try and make his goal.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Chocolate”
“Oooooof you know you’re a bad influence.” Though it was enough to get the gears in his head moving.
He picked you up and set you on the island of the kitchen. Settling both hands around you, he asked,
“What kind of chocolate treat?”
You made eye contact with him, knowing that for sure if he wanted some sort of dessert, he was going to make it happen. 
“I don’t know, I couldn’t find anything.”
“I was even hoping for some brownies?” 
You had wanted anything. Oreos at this point would maybe make you feel better too.  
He turned to you, playfully said in disgust
“a brownie? For a chocolate treat?”
He had turned around to get things out of the pantry. Flour, eggs, cornstarch, cocoa powder, butter, and milk. He brought out silver bowls, mixing together ingredients, and heating up a pan.
You stared at him, unsure of what he was making. It wasn’t chocolate, except for the cocoa powder so it threw you off guard. Sensing how confused you were he began talking.
“You know who taught me how to make crepes? My mom.”
“Really? Is that an Austrian thing?”
“No it’s French…” he smirked at you, sometimes you could be so clueless. As he began to pour the batter into the pan, he swirled it around, covering every surface of the pan, then flipped it immediately. The crepe had a few light brown spots on it, but for the most part was plain, almost undercooked. Though you didn’t want to nag, you just kept observing him listening to what he was saying.
“Mom used to make crepes for breakfast or sometimes as a small treat after dinner. My god, she used to add things like berries, chocolate, vanilla, caramel sauce, but my favorite was always chocolate.”
He continued adding the batter into the pan, flipping, then placing it on top of the other.
“So my mom, I think because my dad was very insecure about her weight/looks, she really limited herself to treats. She loved sweets. So she would trick herself into having a crep with as much powdered sugar, strawberries, and blueberries, then saying it was a small dessert.”
He looked at you, smiling, the memories of his mom were the best. He always smiled when he talked about his mom. Even when he told you about when they had a small fight, he would laugh about how stupid it was saying that they could only tiptoe around each other for 30 minutes until one of them apologized.
He finished making enough crepes making the stack of at least three pancakes. It took you by surprise when you noticed how many he actually made. He went into the fridge and got out heavy cream.
“This one birthday, for some reason my dad didn’t want to buy a cake saying that 12 years old is too old to celebrate birthdays. So she scrambled up this chocolate crepe cake.”
He turned around and grabbed out the sugar, heavy cream, and cocoa powder. He placed it all inside a bowl, grabbed a whisk and began to whisk away the ingredients. It soon formed a thick, chocolate paste. 
He could see you about to ask the question –
“Lots of practice, my mom broke her hand mixer so we took turns beating this mixture together.”
He then went over to the drawer, grabbed a spoon out, scooping some of the mixture out for you to taste. 
“What do you think?”
“Tastes great.”
He smiled, then turned to the small stack of crepes he made, and began to evenly spread a thin layer of the chocolate cream on each one. He proceeded to do this with each one, until you saw what he was doing. He had formed a small cake, with thin layers of chocolate cream. He spread the remaining bit on the top of the last crepe, then sprinkled cocoa powder on the rest. 
He grabbed a knife, cut a big piece, then handed it to you. He leaned on the counter, watching you taste it. 
It was something so simple, that had felt so familiar and satisfied your craving.
“Wow” you said as you watched how he completed a small chocolate cake right before your eyes. “Holy shit this is so good!”
He laughed, finishing up his last bite, then offering you another slice.
“No thanks, I’m pretty much stuffed.” 
“Good.” he smiled at you, then wiped the chocolate powder on the bottom of your lip. He eyed the pile of dishes he forgot, trying to sneak out of them.
“Well since I did cook, I think it’s best you get the dishes.”
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a-supernatural-writer · 6 months
Text
Rusted Orange Leaves
Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader
It's been awhile! I am so sorry for being gone so long. Ever since graduating life has been sort of a roller coaster. Working full time along with trying to figure out student loans has been tough.
I wanted to start writing again and get back into The Lost Boys with a bit of a self indulgent fic. For context I recently lost my Nana (grandmother) a couple weeks ago and its been tough to say the very least. She was not only my grandmother but she was another mother to me and in this fic there is a lot of things that are actual things that my Nana and I would do together. Not only that but this is also a fic for anyone who might've lost there own grandmother or even a grandparent in general who you had a very close connection with.
Happy fall to all of you and I am very excited to write for one of my favorite seasons of the year. Get ready for some spooky, Halloween fun and in general fall themed fluff.
Word Count: 1,840
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The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon filled David’s noise as he walked into a place that he called a second home. Music that he remembered coming out during the time of the 1910’s and 20’s played at a reasonable volume. Being loud enough for anyone to enjoy but just low enough that people could talk comfortably to each other without raising their voice. 
He smiled softly as he walked deeper into the house and caught sight of you doing your thing around the kitchen. 
You were making your grandmother’s infamous great pumpkin cookies that she made every year around the fall holidays. You smiled a little though that smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you mixed in the chocolate morsels that went in the cookies. 
But now these cookies were to be made by you and other members of your family since your grandmother unfortunately passed away not even a month ago in September, just before the leaves started to turn. 
A part of you was sentimental; making her baked goods and other recipes she taught you ever since you were little. You and your mother were really the only two who she taught her recipes to, leaving it to the both of you to teach the rest of the family. 
You had her cookies on your list along with her pumpkin and apple pie and the traditional fall soups she made from scratch. You also had some of your own recipes you’ve been wanting to make. 
With it being the beginning of October, the leaves turning their beautiful vibrant colors, you turned on the music that your grandparents played and had been going at it in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning. 
You were so engrossed in your activity that you didn’t notice your boyfriend David walk into your home. You had given him a key a while ago, turning your home into his home as well… along with your other three boyfriends; Dwayne, Marko and Paul. 
David had gotten there before any of the boys could. He knew that you were dealing with your grief in your own way. You had been having your days where certain sounds, images and even scents sent you into a crying mess. Hell, even before your grandmother passed away, you got so upset because a candle you bought smelt like her. 
You wanted to bask in her scent forever. Her smell gave you comfort and it scared you that you could never live in it again so you haven’t even lit it since her passing. Afraid to lose it and never smell it again. 
David knew that your grandparents weren’t just that, they were another set of parents; a mother and father to you. David knew how much your grandmother loved you. He and the boys got to spend some time with her and she talked about you so much and always wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. You were her first grandchild and she loved you like you were her own. 
Your grandmother even had them tear up, making them promise her that they would love you and make sure that you would always be happy and live your life. And they promised that. 
You eyed the amount of batter in your mixing bowl, finally noticing David when he walked into the kitchen, “Hey.” You said quietly, not fully trusting your feelings in that moment. You wanted to cry, but at the same time, you were feeling the most comfortable since her passing. 
David smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “Hey. I can see you’ve been busy.” 
You nodded, leaning into him, “I made some apple turnovers for the first time. I think they came out really good. I have another batch in the oven and pumpkin soup is simmering on the stove… think it’s too much?” 
David shook his head, “Nope. I think it’s perfect. Do you need any help?” David didn’t think it was too much. If anything with how much the four of them loved your food, it could never be enough. And who was he to stop you from cooking and baking, this was your way of coping, he didn’t want to stop you from healing. 
You felt warm and fuzzy when he offered to help. Cooking with David was always wonderful. It surprised you just how much he enjoyed doing the activity with you. It warmed your heart even more at the idea that you were gonna teach him your grandmother’s recipes. 
“Yeah, I can teach you her pumpkin pie and I wanted to make her chicken pot pie to go with the soup.” You could help but get excited as you explained what you wanted to make. 
David just smiled, taking off his coat and gloves, grabbing a basic brown waist apron that was hanging on a hook in your kitchen, matching your own. You got one for him after he complained a little by getting flour and food particles on his pants one night. 
He tied it around his waist and grabbed the kitchenware he needed and the ingredients that he needed. He followed your instructions as you did your own thing, chopping whatever vegetables and poultry needed for the chicken pot pie. 
Of course, during the longest part of cooking, prep work, did the others file into your home. 
Paul came in smiling at the scene before him. He never in his life thought he would see David doing such a domestic thing in his life, but then again, he didn’t think that for himself either. “Do we have to kiss the cooks?” Paul teased before giving you a kiss on the lips, tasting pumpkin and chocolate on your tongue as he gave you a stomach fluttering deep kiss that held nothing but love with no lust behind it. Just pure love. 
David rolled his eyes when Paul gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek to tease the bleach blonde. “Smells great in here.” 
Paul honestly loved it when the home smelled like this. Your home for him was a place of comfort. A place for him to unwind and just relax. That’s what made you very similar to your grandmother. Both of you made your homes feel like a home. 
He always thought your grandmother was the definition of a grandmother. A woman with a heart of gold and a pure soul. Always making sure everyone was taken care of. The day she passed was a sad one. 
He was frozen in fear the moment the news settled in for you. He had never seen someone feel so much pain that wasn’t physical. He’d seen you sob your heart out before. But seeing your face turn into anguish and cry out so loudly and so heart broken, truly shook him to his core. 
Since then he’s been treating you much more softly. It wasn’t per your request, but something in him changed and he wanted to show you just how much he cherished you. It’s not like he didn’t already, he just had a much more lustful and hornier way of going about it. 
Marko was next to walk in, carrying a small brown bag in his hand and smiled once he saw you spreading out the cookie batter on the pan, “Are those the pumpkin cookies you were talking about?” 
Marko softly grabbed your chin and placed a short kiss on each of your cheeks before placing one on your lips. 
You giggled as Marko gently nipped at your lip, “Yes. I’m gonna bake them once the rest of the apple turnovers are done… what did you get?” 
Marko smiled as he carefully pulled out two tea cups with saucers attached to them. One design to be like fall colored leaves and the other in the shape of a pumpkin with leaves. You cooed at the teacups, wanting to hold them but didn’t want to dirty them with the batter on your hands. 
“Oh, Marko. They’re so cute.” You cooed softly. Marko felt his chest swell with pride as he got you a gift that made your eyes sparkle. And he knew that tone in your voice. You only talk that way when you truly love something. 
“I’ll go put them with the rest of your collection.” He took the teacups and placed them in a wooden cupboard with glass that you used as a display case for your teacups that you pulled out in rotation to use. You had an addition to mugs and teacups and you had an ever growing collection that weren’t just sitting on a shelf but were used for different times throughout the year. 
Marko grinned to himself. He had been trying his best to make you smile recently. Little gifts and outings have been his way to do just that. Even though you’ve told him multiple times that he didn’t need to buy you any gifts, he wanted to. He loved seeing your eyes shine with happiness and he wanted to treat you. You’ve been going through your emotions and even your thoughts for the most part alone. 
You didn’t want to talk to your family much about how you were feeling, afraid of judgment on some weird level. You were afraid that your family wasn’t going to understand how you felt and the way you were going through your grieving process. 
After placing the teacups in the case, he took one of the apple turnovers you already made and took a bite of it, groaning at how good they were. “These are banging.” He comments. Paul joined in and grabbed one of his own, enjoying the freshly baked dessert. 
Dwayne was the last to walk in. Seeing you doing something that you love and glowing, his heart, if it could, would’ve fluttered. Without a word, Dwayne came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”
You shook your head, done with placing the batter on the pans, “No. I’ve been taking breaks here and there throughout the day.” 
Dwayne hummed, squeezing your waist a little, “Good.” 
He didn’t want you overworking yourself too much, even if it was doing something you loved. Sometimes, Dwayne would just make sure that you took time to rest and relax. He knew how hard the past couple weeks have been for you. If the nights of you crying in his arms didn’t tip him off, then you being extra clinging to them lately did. 
You moved to go wash your hands, Dwayne still having a grip on you and moving with you, not wanting to let go yet.
You chuckled, and after you dried off your hands, you reached up and tangled your fingers through his hair. Feeling the utmost content in this moment. 
Out of all the days that have gone by in the past couple weeks, for once you felt at ease.
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sureogi · 8 months
Text
♪(•v^*)/☆ HIS NAME ( BEOMGYU x READER )
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summary : “Y/N.” You said, watching him as he writes your name on the cup. It’s a name Beomgyu liked hearing anytime you ordered. ⋅ notes : hii this is my first time posting one of my works on tumblr! i don’t usually share what i write but i thought this work was cute so i felt a bit confident to post it :D if a lot of ppl like it, i might post more of my works when i have the time (probably not cause school is starting soon for me!)
genre : fluff ⋅ word count : 368
Every Tuesdays and Thursdays at noon, Beomgyu would hear the chiming of the bell hanging on the door of the café. Same coat and same sweet smile would be worn each time you enter. He’s practically memorised your conducts anytime you came in.
Sitting down at an empty table and observing specific tables: a table with a couple feeding each other possibly any kind of dessert, an old man reading the latest newspaper as he sips on his Americano, and some teenage students getting ready to go back to school before their afternoon classes begin.
Beomgyu would notice how you gazed at the couple much longer than the rest, wishing it would happen to you eventually. You stood up, scoffing, and make your way to the counter order. You tend to order when there’s barely anyone at the front to make life more easier. He always remembered your order: a slice of a French silk pie and a cappuccino.
“The usual?” Beomgyu asks as he puts your order on the POS system. You nodded and gaze at him with fond eyes.
Each week at the café, you’d use a different name so he always had to ask for your name. “Can I get a name?” It would take you about a few seconds — or from what Beomgyu counted, 6 seconds — to think of a name, if not, you’d use your actual name.
“Y/N.” You said, watching him as he writes your name on the cup. It’s a name Beomgyu liked hearing anytime you ordered. You paid and went back to your table as you watched him prepare your order. He pulls a tray out and places the cup of soon-to-be-filled-with coffee. He goes over to the display and takes out a slice of freshly baked French silk pie—carefully walking and placing on the tray.
He calls out your name and you hurriedly walk to the counter to get your order. You sat back down to your seat and noticed how he signed your name differently. Throughout the times he’d write your name or names, he’d draw a smiley face to brighten up your day. This time he drew a heart.
Hopefully next time, you’ll ask for his name.
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lukevangelista · 1 year
Text
out with the old, in with the new | these michigan summers
series masterlist
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SUMMER ‘13
At the ripe age of fourteen, Olivia Calloway knew she wanted a house with a nice front porch and a garden, just like her grandparents'.
Dorothea and Sam Calloway's house was nothing special in the grand scheme of things. The typical American suburban house, it looked like every other home in the township of Canton. But there was just something about it that just made it better.
Olivia liked to joke that the house was why she made the long trip up to Michigan.
"Sweetheart, why don't you invest in a pair of sunglasses?" Dorothea asked, lifting her gaze from the sweater she was knitting to look across the porch. "You're only hurting your eyes."
"I did." Olivia let her eyes flutter shut, sighing as she sunk into the cushions. She swore she could sit under the warm, honeyed sun all day. "They broke."
"Take one of Grandpa's. He has a million of them."
"They all make me look like middle-aged dads."
"I'd rather you look like your dad than go blind."
"I wouldn't call him middle-aged," said Olivia. "And I'm tryin' to look a little less like him."
Dorothea snorted. "You won't have any problems with that. You're your mother's twin, if anything." Her knitting needles clanged against each other. "But there's nothing wrong with looking like Nash. He's a good-looking guy. Kind. Hardworking, too."
The front door opened. "Well, if you think he's so good-looking and kind, why don't you marry him?"
"Our daughter beat me to it."
Sam rolled his light blue eyes, lowering an ice-cold pitcher. "I come bearing sweet tea for the ladies."
Olivia pulled her feet up, smiling gratefully at her grandfather as she thanked him.
"Speaking of Nash, this was his mother's recipe," he said, pouring everyone a glass. He leaned down to kiss Dorothea's temple before handing her the drink.
"Momma still makes it." Olivia squinted, blocking out the sun's rays. Her attention focused on the rare car that turned onto their road.
Dorothea hummed to herself. "Swear Diane loved sweet tea so much; it was half the reason she moved down south."
"Not the man she married?" Sam raised an eyebrow, settling beside his granddaughter.
"Half, Sam." Dorothea shot an annoyed look at her husband. "Not the entire reason. God, don't your ears work anymore?"
"Think all the shouting you do is getting to them." Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm, his chest puffing once with humor.
The car Olivia had spotted pulled into the driveway of the house next door, and her eyebrows knitted together. "Thought the Kowalskis were havin' trouble sellin' their house."
"You know this town." Dorothea's tone was dismissive, yet if they listened any closer, they'd hear the dolefulness in her words. "People are always coming and going. Everything gets sold eventually."
Olivia nodded in understanding. She didn't really understand it, though. "So, who are they?"
"The Hughes family," Sam answered, slinging his arm across the back of the patio couch. "Moved in a few weeks ago. Nice people, as far as we can tell. They invited the Burkes and us over for dinner when they moved in."
"Jim and Ellen have a son your age, Libs." The corner of Dorothea's lips slanted upward. Olivia stared at her grandmother, unamused, only shifting her focus when she heard the car doors open. Out came two adults—who Olivia assumed were Jim and Ellen—and three boys.
Dorothea lowered one of her knitting needles to wave at them. The kids waved back, eager and animated, but confusion littered their faces at the sight of Olivia on the porch—someone they hadn't seen in the weeks they'd been there.
Olivia merely smiled as they headed in, keeping her laughs to herself when she noticed them whispering and shoving each other.
Dorothea checked her dainty wristwatch before excusing herself. When the front door opened, the smell of freshly-baked blueberry pie wafted past their noses.
Sam reached into his pocket, taking out a slightly crinkled envelope with Olivia's name written in big, bold font. "Sharon Kowalski wanted to give this to you."
Olivia tore through the envelope's flap and took out its contents. Alongside a card, a photo of a baby Olivia smiling in the arms of the two Kowalski children stared back at her.
"I remember when Sharon took that photo," Sam said with a soft smile, peering over Olivia's shoulder. "Jason was finally brave enough to hold you."
"He dropped me, didn't he?"
"Oh, yeah. Two seconds after that was taken. He probably cried more than you did."
Olivia opened the card.
Going to miss you, sweet girl. Don't be a stranger. (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.
—Sharon, Dave, Jason, Jess
Olivia's smile was soft as she gently closed the card. She slipped the card and photo back into the envelope, the message ingraining itself in her mind.
Dorothea came out with the pie in hand, drawing attention to herself. She held it out for Olivia. "Be a dear and give this to Ellen, will you? Gives you a chance to introduce yourself."
Olivia took the pie and made her way down the porch steps. She cut through their lawns until she stared at the familiar door. She knocked three times, idly rocking back and forth as her gaze drifted over the porch layout, how the Hugheses had decorated things a little differently to the Kowalskis.
When the door opened, the script Olivia had created in her head seemed to disappear as she met the eyes of a blonde woman with the prettiest of smiles. She failed to gather her words for a moment, trying to shake herself out of whatever trance she'd fallen into.
Ellen's lips pulled into a kind smile. "Hi, you must be Libby. Thea was just telling me about you."
Olivia blinked, her naturally rosy cheeks growing redder by the second. "Sorry, hi! Yeah, I'm Libby."
"It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Ellen."
"I brought pie!" Olivia lifted the platter. "Blueberry. Grandma's recipe."
Ellen gently took the pie into her hands, thanking the younger girl. "Thea really has a way with baking."
Olivia smiled, showcasing the braces on her teeth. "She sure does."
"My son loves her pies," Ellen said before leaning into the house and shouting for someone, a name Olivia didn't catch.
A second later, a timid boy appeared by the front door. He was slightly taller than her, with a face speckled somewhat in freckles. Olivia could see the resemblance to Ellen. Maybe mothers just had particularly strong genes.
"Libby, this is Quinn; he's my oldest. Quinn, Libby. She's Thea and Sam's granddaughter," Ellen introduced.
Olivia stuck her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Quinn."
There was a flash of surprise in Quinn's green eyes as though he hadn't expected the drawl in her voice. It wasn't every day he came across someone with a southern accent in a small town in Michigan.
He shook her hand, grip light, as he returned the greeting so quietly, Olivia was almost sure she'd imagined him saying anything at all. Her head tilted ever so slightly, eyes raking his features in subtle observation.
"Can you put the pie in the kitchen?" Ellen asked Quinn, handing him the pie. He nodded and walked away, and Ellen refocused on Olivia. "Would you like to come in?"
Olivia's eyes widened slightly, looking away from the direction Quinn had walked in. "Oh, I would, but I should head back. Still have some unpackin' to do. But it was nice meetin' y'all."
"You too!"
Olivia waved before turning away, skin aflame. There was no way she'd fumbled over her words while meeting the new neighbors. Great first impression that was, she thought.
"I can dig you a hole," said Sam when she returned.
"So I can die?"
"You will do no such thing!" Dorothea's glare was deadly. "Either of you. Not in my garden, at least."
————
The bright sunbeams slowly turned to golden rays, and Dorothea said, "It's almost sunset time, you two."
Sam clapped his hands against his thighs, raising an eyebrow at Olivia. "Ready?"
She didn't waste any time before jumping to her feet and dragging her grandfather to the sidewalk with a skip in her step. She loved 'sunset time'—a tradition where they headed to the hill that provided the clearest view of the sunset while random ramblings were traded.
On their way over, they made a pit stop at Delia's Diner and ordered sundaes and sodas.
"Keep up, old man," Olivia said over her shoulder, nearing the crest of the hill.
"Watch your mouth, punk."
All Olivia could do was laugh as she plopped onto the grass that tickled the skin of her legs. Sam sat down next to her just a minute later.
At first, it was quiet, just the two of them taking in the view while sipping on their drinks, their sundaes long gone. The ever-shifting colors came in waves of vibrant orange and rose-petal blush, staining the clouds.
"I've been taking Thea here since we were kids," Sam said distantly.
Olivia pressed her lips together, leaning back onto her hands. She'd heard the story before, but she loved seeing the adoration and giddiness wash over his face each time he told her. If there was one thing she knew, Sam Calloway always took the opportunity to talk about his wife, and Olivia hoped that someday, someone would talk about her that way.
"We were only neighbors," he continued. "Sometimes it doesn't feel real. How something as simple as that could lead to you."
Olivia let her eyes track the side of her grandfather's face. "Did you know you'd end up together?"
Sam played with the gold band on his left hand absentmindedly; it was something of a soothing gesture. "Yes," he answered. "Well—I hoped for it anyway. I wasn't religious as a kid, but I'd always pray to someday be her husband."
A spark flickered through Olivia's eyes. Oh, to be spoken in such a way. "You always do introduce yourself as Thea's husband."
"She could have any man in the world, and she chose me. Almost didn't, but she did." Sam's eyebrows scrunched together. "Why wouldn't I want people to know that I'm hers?"
"Daddy used to say the same thing about Momma," Olivia mumbled.
"She used to take him here whenever he'd visit." After a beat of silence, Sam nudged her shoulder. "How's my Diane?"
Olivia fisted the grass. "She's doin' just fine."
"Yeah?"
She hummed her assent, avoiding Sam's gaze. "She and Rhett got into an argument before I left, though."
He mulled her words over, displeasure seeping onto his features. "How many's that in the last month?"
Olivia shrugged.
"You'd tell me if it got bad, wouldn't you?"
Olivia nodded, feeling the burning of her grandfather's gaze. She thought her stepfather had been a kind man at first—stereotypically warm southern mannerisms down to a T—but it became jarringly clear as time went on that he was as cruel as he was deceiving. Rhett Taylor had money, though, the kind that allowed Olivia and Diane to live comfortably.
And it wasn't like he was mean all the time. There were times when he'd driven her to the store near midnight because she'd unexpectedly started her period or when he'd stay up to wrap her Christmas presents, all thoughtfully selected.
But that didn't sweep away all the sleepless nights when she'd hear Rhett and Diane screaming at each other, exchanging the meanest words she'd ever heard.
Maybe one day, it would all go away, but for now, the sun descending into the horizon provided all the peace Olivia had ever wanted. The darkening blue slowly infiltrated the sky, the rise of the moon, and the whispering breeze.
"What's your dad up to?" Sam asked. "He hasn't called in a while."
Olivia shook her head as if to say she had no idea. "Still tryin' to get me to see him."
"What's stopping you?"
The question repeated in her head like a mantra. It wasn't so easy. Even a dismissive 'I don't know' would be complex. "Because I know I'll enjoy it too much," she finally admitted, "and if he asked me to stay with him, I don't know if I'd be able to say no."
"Nothing wrong with saying yes, Libby."
Olivia hugged her knees close to her chest, fingers playing with the cuffs of her sweater. "It feels wrong."
Sam relented the topic. He didn't want his granddaughter to feel solemn. Definitely not this early into the summer. Or ever.
They stayed on the hill for a little longer until the light was gone, and all that was left were the twinkling stars and speckles of clouds. Sam helped Olivia to her feet, and they walked home while the crickets sang into the night and mosquitoes buzzed around them.
Dorothea was on the couch, watching TV, when they made it back. Olivia and Sam joined her side until, one by one, they went to sleep.
Olivia did some tidying up in the family room before heading upstairs. She walked to the window to close the curtains, but she saw Quinn laughing with his brothers in his room on the other side. Her lips couldn't stop themselves from curving upward.
Something about seeing siblings getting along made her wish she had one. Even cousins wouldn't be bad, but she didn't have those either.
Quinn caught Olivia's eyes for a brief moment. He offered a smile, and her breath seemed to catch. She waved, bashful, before closing the curtains with burning cheeks.
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shadowsyourheart · 2 months
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I have a 2 hour gap between classes so here's this 🫴
What the companions special interests\hobbies are
Shadowheart: Don't try and tell me she isn't a warrior cats kid. She read all 28383838 books 5 times over and does weekly roleplays. On top of that she also really loves plants, has a greenhouse and dedicated names for all of her plants.
Lae'zel: Girl lovesss mlp. Her personal favorite is Twilight because [10 hour rant here]. She also really loves space, could and will talk for hours about it; she knows every planet and star there is by name, and the full history of it.
Karlach: Also loves mlp, has hour long conversations with Lae'zel about it. Her favorite is Rainbow Dash but she also loves Pinkie Pie. She also boxes. Probably coaches her own boxing team.
Astarion: Sewing and stitching. Dresses, suits, hoodies, you name it he's made it. Fixes Clide for Karlach when it rips. He also acts and really loves debate. Getting to argue over whatever he wants and get a trophy for it? Yes please.
Gale: Everyone talks about him baking but I don't see enough about him writing. He loves reading, and everyone knows it, but what no one knows is he has a 8383939494 page long murder mystery in the works.
Wyll: Has 4 dance lessons in a week, all for different types of dancing. On top of that, he knows 6 different instruments and is learning 3 more. Takes a particular liking to the piano.
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fanficbarbie · 6 months
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❝baby, i'm the sweetest.❞
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read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.
A/N: i just got through midterms so sorry this chapter took so long. enjoy this chapter of interactions between the delicious trio. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. enjoy ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv
Chapter Summary: ellie gets into a fight at school and calls the sweetest baker for help.
Chapter Warnings: fighting, bruising, language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), threatening (brief), arguing (brief), symptoms of anxiety and depression.
Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.
⋆ word count: 4.7k ⋆
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
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For the next three weeks, I had fallen into a routine of seeing Joel every day at 10 p.m. when he’d come over to cook dinner and pick Ellie up from my house. Although I love baking, I detest cooking. Maybe it’s my sweet tooth, but I’m grateful that Joel has taken over that role in my life. If it weren’t for him I’d be eating takeout every day.
I’d lay awake every night and think about the details of his face. His salt and pepper facial hair, his rough hands, the burns on his forearms. My thoughts swirled with Joel as I tossed and turned in bed. I’d repeat the same words to myself over and over again until my face turned blue.
We’re just friends, Ginny. He doesn’t want you that way.
As the owner, I rarely take days off work from Daylight. But, on days like today, my body informs me that I’ve reached the end of my rope. Burnout.
The rain falls softly outside against the window and I moan at the feeling of the cool glass on my temple. My eyes dart down to the bustling city, hoping to have my mind on anything but this recipe for a while.
Suddenly my phone starts ringing, sending me jolting upright. My hands feel in the blankets for the slender device. Once I find it, I don’t check the caller ID before picking it up.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
I hear a voice on the other side clear their throat. “Hi, is this Ginny?” I hear a fake sweet voice come through the speaker.
My face screws when I try to pin the voice down to a person. “Ellie?” I question the other person on the line.
I hear a loud sigh, simulating the wind blowing in my ear. “Yeah. Thank fuck you answered,” she counts her blessings.
Taking the phone away from my screen, I look at the random numbers I’m familiar with. “Why are you calling me from the Principal’s office?” I ask her.
Ellie shuffles and I hear the office chair beneath her squeak. “About that…” she starts.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. “Cut to the chase,” I rush her so I can get back to my day of relaxing.
I hear Ellie inhale a sharp draw of breath. “Joel is super busy because he has a fucking tasting event going on right now. This is gonna sound crazy so first you have to say no and then you have to say yes,” she rambles quickly.
My eyes roll as I stand from the comfort of my window seat. “Land the fucking plane, El,” I goan.
There’s a momentary pause where I think I’m going to reach through the phone and strangle Joel’s crotch child if she delays any longer. “I got in a fight and I need you to pretend to be my mom or something so you can pick me up from school,” she explains.
My jaw drops as soon as I register the words. “You what? Argh, Ellie,” I complain. I love the kid but I have boundaries, and this is not how I wanted to spend my day off.
“Please, Ginny? Please? Please? Please?” she begs and I shake my head. 
My feet shuffle up the steps to my bedroom so I can change into more acceptable clothing. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to think about apple pie for a little while,” I conceded, trying to figure out how long it would take me to get to Jackson High.
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My hands push on the bar into the office. Crinkling my nose at the LED lights above me, I walk up to the person at the desk. “Hi. I’m Imogen Miller. I’m here to pick up my daughter, Ellie Williams,” I introduce myself, lying a bit. I can’t fight the feeling that Joel’s last name sounds good with my first.
The woman in front of me raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh,” she says almost in disgust, looking me up and down. Fucking cunt. “Let me go get her from in-school suspension,” she grumbles, taking her leave.
 Fuck you you fucking bitch. “Yeah, you do that,” I snip lowly at her.
I pace around the room, anxiously waiting to see the brunette girl walk through the door. Fuck, I will burn down this whole school if she has so much as a cut on her lip. “So you’re Ellie’s mom,” I hear a curious voice come from behind me.
When I turn around, an older lady is standing with her daughter. The kid can’t be much older than Ellie and she’s covered in stitches. “And you are?” I ask with attitude. After being in this school for 10 minutes I don’t want to interact with another person for the rest of the weekend.
She crosses her arms and purses her lips at me. “The mom of the girl your daughter attacked,” she accuses Ellie.
My first ball so tightly, I think I might draw blood. You can’t fight a mom in a school, Imogen. You’re an adult. “My daughter wouldn’t attack anyone,” I defend Ellie, though I know nothing about the fight. 
I will always defend the ones I love in public, then scold them later about the situation. And that’s exactly how I plan to handle this situation.
“Are you kidding me? Look at her face?” The blonde woman hisses.
My eyes roam up and down her daughter’s body. The kid is as tall as me and Ellie only comes up to my chest. “I’m more so looking at her stature. You let a little girl do all that?” I taunt gesturing towards her face.
The blonde rolls her eyes. “It’s obvious we’re not going to get anywhere. Your kid is just as crazy as you,” she scoffs.
My blood boils and I can feel the steam coming from my ears. “Again, my kid. Who I will choose how to discipline. Now you have a nice day,” I finish her.
She sticks her nose up as high in the air as it’ll go, turning around.
Shaking my head, I decide it’s probably best to find a water fountain as soon as possible so I can cool down. Just as I come up for air from the short fountain, another person approaches me. “Hi, are you Ellie’s mom?” the tall black man asks.
I shift putting one hand on my hip. “Yes. What is it now?” I dig at him.
The man’s cheeks fill with a soft plum color. “Nothing, Mrs. Miller. I’m Mr. Henry, the freshman art teacher,” he introduces himself with a hand extended. “Nice to meet you,” he 
My eyes widen and my skin boils with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I met a rude parent. She still has my head frazzled. It’s nice to meet you too,” I politely shake his hand.
He pivots to stand next to me as I start walking down the hall. “Your daughter is quite the artist,” he compliments Ellie.
A smile covers my face thinking about how others see the brilliant girl. “Thank you,” I murmur.
“Must run in the family. What do you do?” He asks.
“Oh, I– Ellie’s not,” I babble, pausing to clear my throat. Get it together and play your role, Imogen. “I’m a baker,” I answer confidently.
Mr. Henry nods, pausing by the door of the office. “Wow. A baker for a mom and a chef for a dad. She must have the best school lunches,” he ponders.
I shrug, reaching for the door handle. “Something like that. Although Joel has a bias against too many sweet treats,” I joke, stepping into the office.
Mr. Henry smiles, holding the door open for me. “I could see that,” he murmurs.
Across the room, the opposite set of double doors open. Ellie strolls in behind the office assistant. “Here she is. You can go ahead and sign her out for me,” the assistant instructs me.
“It was nice meeting you,” Mr. Henry offers a smile before turning towards Joel’s daughter. “Try to stay out of trouble, Ellie,” he advises.
Ellie’s hand goes up and she gives a small wave. “Bye, Mr. Henry. See you Monday,” she bids him a goodbye.
Once my signature is on the paper, I don’t bother waiting for the ink to dry. I’m nearly ready to drag Ellie out of here. “Done. Let’s go, El,” I announce, slamming the pen down on the desk.
Ellie looks up at me, practically bouncing with excitement when I wrap my fingers around her arm, pulling her out of the office. As soon as we make it outside, I bring us to a screeching halt. “The fuck happened to your eye? Was it that cunt’s daughter? I will fuck both of them up, Ellie. I swear to god,” I rant, patting her body for any more signs of damage.
Ellie grabs my wrists to stop me. “Dude, calm down. I handled it. She had to get 15 stitches,” Ellie boasts proudly.
Instead of checking for bruises, my hands smooth out her school uniform. “That’s fuckin right. I ain't raise no bitch,” I grumble.
Ellie sighs while I fix her sweater. “Um, Ginny. You didn’t raise me at all,” she points out with a raised eyebrow.
A flush creeps onto my face as I realize my mistake. Ellie’s not my kid. “You’re right. Don’t tell Joel I said that,” I beg her to cut me some slack. 
After all, it’s the least she can do for me. I did pick her up from school. “Actually, don’t tell Joel about any of this shit,” I clarify with fear that Joel will be angry with Ellie.
We begin to walk towards my tiny Volkswagen Bug. Ellie throws her head back in frustration. “Ugh, what am I gonna do? He’s going to notice my eye,” she groans.
I click the unlock button on the key. “What happened?” I ask.
Ellie’s head turns back towards the school. “That cunt, Bethany, wouldn’t leave me alone,” she says as though she’s waiting on Bethany to come after her.
I put my hand on the top of her head, turning her head back towards me. “And what did she say?” I ask.
Ellie shrugs and she stops to kick some dirt on the path. “I don’t know,” she lies, head hanging low.
Once we reach the car, I move my hands to her shoulders. “El, you do know,” I reiterate so she knows I’m serious.
Ellie nods, and her eyes dart towards the ground. “I know…. She wouldn’t stop telling me I was a pussy and I couldn't handle shit myself. I told her I didn't want to fight but she shoved me,” she explains.
My hand yanks on the handle of the passenger side. “That’s good enough for me. You were defending yourself from a bully. I’m sure your dad will see it the same way,” I say to Ellie as she slides into the seat.
Once we’re both in the car, I pull up the McDonalds app on my phone. “Now, it’s free fries Friday. Shall we?” I ask, starting the ignition.
I hear Ellie click her seatbelt before shifting towards me. “We shall,” she responds with a slight small.
I shift the gear into drive. “That’s fucking right. I knew you were my kid,” I cheer, pulling off onto the main road.
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Ellie lays in my bed, cuddled up with a Grogu stuffie around 10 pm that night. The light from the TV in my room fills the room and the noise of medical machines beeping layers perfectly with Ellie’s snores. We haven’t left the bed since we got back from Jackson High. As soon as we got back, we immediately turned on Grey’s Anatomy and gorged on snacks. 
Now hours later, my phone buzzes repeatedly and my head snaps over, hoping it won’t wake the traumatized child up. I quickly crawl to the end of the bed, swiping my phone up from the ground before lowering my feet to the floor. I quickly scurry across the room to my on-suite bathroom, sliding the door closed.
A picture of me and Joel on Halloween covers the screen and I smile a bit. He’s just here to pick up his daughter, Imogen. Not to see you.
My finger presses the green button, and I bring the phone up to my head. “Hey,” I say lowly.
“Sugar, I’m outside your back door,” Joel's husky voice dances on my ear drums.
My feet tip-toe across the tile to the window that faces the back. Pulling the curtain to the side, I look down at where Joel is standing with a wine bottle in his hand. He’s patiently waiting for me or Ellie to open the door. “Spare key is under the mat,” I direct him.
He shifts a bit and tucks the bottle under his arm. “You’re jokin',” he sighs.
My head shakes and then I realize, he can’t see me. “No. I don’t feel like coming down 3 flights of steps so, let yourself in,” I tell him.
He groans, before reaching down to lift the mat. He picks up the pink sparkly key, holding it in the air before shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant but I’ll be up in a second,” he grumbles, sticking the key into the door.
“Sounds good, we’re in my room,” I inform him before clicking the red button on the screen.
A minute or two passes and I turn to my side, checking to make sure Ellie’s still asleep. Her brows furrow in her sleep and I gnaw on my lip watching her struggle, even in her dreams.
Joel’s footsteps slowly make their way closer to my room and I see his shadowy figure slowly push the door open. He pokes his head in, surveying the room when his eyes land on mine. “Hi,” he greets me with a small smile.
Dear god, he’s going to give me a heart attack. He’s so fucking cute and I find myself lighting up when I see him. A smile creeps onto my face when Joel steps into the room. “Hi,” I whisper before looking back down at Ellie.
“How long's she been out?” I hear Joel ask.
“Only 30 minutes,” I huff out.
My eyes find Joel’s again as he sets the bottle of wine down on my mantel. “Damn it. She’s gonna be mad when I wake her,” he foretells.
My eyes roam up and down his body, savoring how good he looks in the moonlight. His hair has grown a bit longer since Halloween, curling up slightly at the ends. “Maybe she should stay tonight,” I suggest.
Joel shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on a wall hook. “Why?” he asks.
“Come. Sit,” I demand, patting the empty spot at the end of the bed.
Joel kicks his shoes off by his jacket before sauntering over. He lowers his body awkwardly onto the edge of the bed with clasped hands. My hand reaches out towards him and he takes it, allowing me to pull him closer to me.
The warmth of his hands has me reluctant to let go. “Don’t freak out,” I preface once he’s close enough.
His eyes observe my face, and I assume he’s looking for any sign of emotion. “Darlin’, whenever you start a sentence like that I lose my shit,”
“Well, don't,” I command him before my hands slowly move to Ellie’s hoodie. She’s lying on her side with her back facing the both of us, so Joel can’t see her bruised face. I grab the edge of the fabric, pulling it back just enough to reveal the purple circle on her face. 
Joel sucks air in through his teeth and his upper body tenses. He leans over a bit more to get a better look at the black eye, dramatically dipping the bed. Ellie seemingly senses this and her body shifts to face us. 
Neither I nor Joel take a breath, waiting to see if Ellie’s going to wake up. She lets out a small grunt and her eyes flutter open. “Joel?” she whispers, squinting up at him.
Joel pulls the blanket up, tucking her in. “It’s okay, baby girl. You can go back to sleep,” he reassures her.
“Mmmm okay,” Ellie sighs, snuggling into the pink silk.
I slide towards the end of the mattress, grab Joel's wrist, and pull him into the ensuite bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, I turn around to face him. 
The first thing I notice is the prominent scowl on his face and his tense shoulders. “The hell happened to her face?” he grits.
My nose scrunches with disdain. “Don’t fucking snap at me, Joel,” I whisper yell at him.
He crosses the room, trapping me in between the counter and his body with nowhere to move. There’s nowhere for me to move and even if I wanted to, I’m frozen in place. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sugar,” he apologizes, putting his hands on my hips. 
His fingers slightly slide under my shirt and I shiver before he lays his full palms on my waist. His eyes flutter closed and he leans closer to me, resting his forehead on mine.
He hums and I know this is just platonic. He doesn’t want you Imogen, he’s just trying to ground himself. “She called me to pick her up around 11. Said the girl was an antagonistic bully. She shoved Ellie and called her a pussy,” I ramble while Joel’s thumbs trace a comforting pattern onto my skin.
He sighs and his eyes stay closed. “Ginny,” he says lowly.
“and Ellie rightfully beat her ass. I’m just saying to go easy on her for the next few days. Bitches are mean and I would’ve fought at 14 too if that cunt stepped to me like that. Did you teach her how to fight? Because she wiped the floor with that girl,” I continue, getting irritated about the situation all over again.
Joel opens his eyes, leaning back a bit. “Ginny,” he repeats.
“Oh, the school probably called you already. If they say I cussed out a parent, they’re fucking liars,” my nostrils flare, but Joel’s no fool. He probably already knows the truth.
My eyes search Joel’s face for any type of reaction before I continue. His face is entirely blank, confusing me more. “Gin—“
“What Joel?” I annoyingly cut him off.
He clears his throat, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Thank you,” he says calmly.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him, looking away.
Dejavu clouds my brain when Joel bends his knees, forcing me to look at him. “I do. Ellie’s not your responsibility and she shouldn’t have called you. She should’ve called me,” he reiterates and I try not to get lost in his chocolate irises.
My head nods and I lick my lips, still salty with chip remnants. “Yes but Joel, I would much rather her call me than not say anything at all. What if she got arrested or worse? At least she’s safe. A win is a fucking win,” I argue.
He nods, scratching his eyebrow. “She talk to you after?” he asks.
“Mmhm,” I answer.
“How was she?” he follows up.
I shift to lean on my other leg. “Quiet. Usually, the first thing she does when she sees me is regurgitate one of your dad jokes, but she’s barely said a word since we got back,” I note.
“Damn it,” Joel swears, pacing around the large bathroom. “Damn it,” he grits a little louder.
He runs his hands through his hair, slightly tugging at the roots. “What should I do?” he asks, voice laced with concern.
I gnaw on my lip faced once again with the fear of telling Joel how to parent. He stops pacing, waiting for me to answer. “Joel, I don’t know,” I sigh, quite frankly stressed the fuck out.
He shakes his head and lets out a client grunt. “You do. You’re just bitin' your tongue because you don’t want to step on my toes,” he speaks with his hands.
I step forward, grabbing his hands to try and soothe him. His calloused palms feel rough against my smooth moisturized ones. “Just be there for her and love her. Just keep loving her Joel,” I advise.
He adjusts our palms so his hands are on the outside. “Okay. Thank you, again,” he grunts.
The silence between us is comfortable, but Joel’s blinking is slow. “You look tired. Go lay down next to Ellie while I make my bed in the spare room,” I instruct him, pulling him towards the door.
His feet drag on the tile beneath us. “I can help you,” he offers.
I release one of his hands, sliding the door open. “You can help me by making me breakfast in the morning. I’m sleepy too,” I bargain, hoping he’ll make some bacon.
“Okay,” Joel whispers as we leave the bathroom. I part ways with him, heading down the hall to make up the extra bed for him. It only takes a few minutes and when I get back to my room, I catch a glimpse of Joel lying horizontally over my footboard. 
As I come closer, I see both he and Ellie are asleep. He’s on top of the covers, having shed his jeans, holding Ellie’s feet through the duvet.
I shake my head, too tired to bother waking him. He grumbles as I slide into the warmth of the bed and I roll my eyes. I didn’t expect to share my bed with one human tonight, let alone two.
I pull the covers up, careful not to kick Joel in the face as I situate myself. Like magic, my eyes close and I’m asleep within minutes.
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As soon as I can form a thought, I feel a chill hit my feet. I instantly swipe them around the sheets, searching for my electric blanket. My legs intertwine a warm item and I attempt to hide my face behind Ellie’s body.
A few moments pass and I hear snickers in the room. “Go back to sleep, sugar,” I hear the man’s voice say and I try my best to ignore it. 
I groan, melting further into the warm body next to me. It’s far too early to be thinking about anything but more sleep. “Shut up, then,” I mumble.
This time the laugh is loud and deep, and it comes from underneath me. The realization that I’m curled into Joel right now sends panic up my ass.
My eyes open wide and I shoot up into a sitting position, scrambling back away from Joel. Joel reaches out to grab me but I underestimate how big my bed is when I’m suddenly tumbling backwards on the floor. 
My body connects with the ground with a loud thud. “Oooo,” I hear Ellie groan.
 Joel peers over the edge of the mattress. “You alright?” he checks, voice laced with concern.
My hand pushes his out of the way. “I’m fine. Just got spooked. Not used to people being here is all,” I partially lie. 
The problem isn’t with them staying here, it’s my feelings for Joel. “Sorry we scared you darlin’,” Joel apologizes.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stand from the floor. “It’s okay. Shit. What time is it?” I ask the two sitting on top of my bed.
Ellie shovels another forkful of pancakes into her mouth. “11:30,” she mumbles through chewing.
My eyes go wide and I feel an oncoming spiral approaching. My chest gets tight as the panic sets in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I swear, looking for my phone under the 5 layers of blankets. “The bakery opened 3 hours ago,” I tell them, patting the top of the covers to find my phone.
Joel grabs my wrist, ceasing any movement I’m making. “Relax. I checked with Grace. They’re doin' fine,” he reports with a small smile.
The gaze lingers between us for a moment too long causing a sizzling feeling to linger in the air. Joel looks down at where we connect, quickly pulling his hand back. “Ginny, come on. Joel made breakfast,” Ellie beams before popping a crispy slice of bacon in her mouth.
I rub my eyes, trying to get out any crust that might be in them. “You did?” I ask.
Joel nods and I admire his bedhead. “Least I could do, sugar,” he says nonchalantly.
Ellie stands from the bed, holding her empty plate in her hands. I follow after her, excited to soothe my rumbling stomach. 
Once we’re in the kitchen, I’m hit with the realization that I hate cooking. There hasn’t been food in my house since last Thanksgiving. “Where did you get the bacon?” I ask Joel over my shoulder.
“Stopped by my place earlier,” Joel discloses.
My heart warms and a smile so big covers my face it hurts. “Joel, that’s so nice,” I remark.
Ellie darts past us, putting her dishes in the dishwasher. “I have to keep working on the wall. Thanks for breakfast, Joel,” she bids us goodbye, rushing across the room.
Joel hands me a plate and I accept it, loading it up with some fresh fruit first. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” Joel replies.
“See you in a bit, El,” I call to her.
“Look, I have to go. My brother Tommy is comin' round and he doesn't come round often,” Joel says, awkwardly tapping the counter with his pointer finger.
My jaw drops and I peer up at him with regret. “Oh fuck, Joel. You should’ve woke me up,” I whine.
Joel slowly shakes his head. “Mmm, didn’t want to. You look cute when you sleep,” he compliments.
My eyes widen and I look down at my plate, praying I don’t drop it. Joel fucking Miller just called me cute. “I’m sorry,” I apologize.
“Don’t apologize. I made the decision,” Joel’s morning voice sounds like a melody to my ears.
I nod, unsure of what to say. I pick up a piece of bacon, moaning at the perfect crispiness of the meat. “Well, enjoy breakfast. Thanks again for Ellie,” Joel pipes up.
“Of course. Bye, Joel,” I wave at him as he follows his daughter.
“Bye,” Joel calls over his shoulder with a smile.
My head throws back with a groan as I shuffle towards my couch. A faint knocking sound rasps on the wooden door and I pause my movements. I wait for another knock and when I don’t hear anything, I dust it out of my mind. I sit on the couch before I hear a knock again, this time louder. My feet carry me down the stairs to my back door and when I turn the corner, I see Joel’s side profile.
He looks stressed so I quickly yank the door open. “Did you forget your knife again?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry for botherin’ you,” he apologizes, putting one hand on the door frame.
He leans onto the side of the bakery and the wood groans beneath him. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
He clears his throat, seemingly uncomfortable. “Are you free tomorrow?” he asks.
My brows furrow and I pull my cardigan closed over my inevitably hard nipples. “Uh, I can be. Why?” I sputter.
He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling a harsh breath. “Maybe I’m readin’ this wrong,” he sighs.
“Reading what wrong?” I ask.
Joel removes his hand from the wall, straightening his back. “Nevermind. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles.
My eyes dart left and right. Am I in the fucking twilight zone right now? “Umm okay,” I utter.
“Bye, sugar,” he says before taking a step back, putting what feels like a mile in between us.
Somehow, I feel a pang of disappointment in my stomach that I’ve missed something. “Bye,” I say to him, stepping back and shutting the door.
Ginny without a kiss - 2, Ginny with a kiss - 0
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read the rest of the series.
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