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#if you are looking for a movie set at thanksgiving to watch
jacquelinemerritt · 2 years
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Thanksgiving Films You Forgot: The Ice Storm
Originally posted November 16th, 2015
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It’s November, and because it’s the most thankful time of the year, I’m taking a look at the Thanksgiving films you either didn’t see, or forgot existed. This week, I’m looking at The Ice Storm, which was directed by Ang Lee and stars an ensemble cast of Kevin Kline, Joan Allen, Sigourney Weaver, Henry Czerny, Christina Ricci, Elijah Wood, and Adam Hann-Byrd.
The Ice Storm takes a very deliberate approach to its story; it’s a character drama at its heart, and Ang Lee takes his time progressing through the story. The first half of the film focuses on the few days before Thanksgiving, and follows two major stories: Kevin Kline’s affair with Sigourney Weaver, Christina Ricci’s relationship with Adam Hann-Byrd and his younger brother Elijah Wood.
Kline’s affair is a fairly simple story; he and Joan Allen are married, and he’s seeking sexual satisfaction with his neighbor Henry Czerny’s wife, Sigourney Weaver. Lee shows us that this simple arrangement isn’t quite what we might predict however, when Kline begins babbling to Weaver about his problems at work.
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It would seem he’s seeking emotional fulfillment more than sexual fulfillment, and Weaver refuses to reciprocate his outpouring of emotions, telling him that if she wanted to hear about his problems, she’d just go speak to her husband. Later on, she abandons him, leaving him in his boxers with free reign over his house, sending the message that she’s not even interested in him sexually any longer.
The relationship between Christina Ricci and Adam Hann-Byrd is a complex one as well. They’re both fourteen year olds, going through the beginnings of puberty, and they’ve begun to experiment sexually, keeping this hidden from their parents. Ricci’s character is particularly sexual, and steps out of the bounds of their relationship to show herself off to Elijah Wood, Hann-Byrd’s younger brother.
Wood’s character, though tangentially interested in sex, is actually repulsed by Ricci’s exhibitionism, and responds appropriately, calling for help and getting his mother, Weaver, to kick Ricci out. When Hann-Byrd discovers this, he’s slightly dismayed, but as soon as Ricci exhibits sexual interest in him again, he forgets his concerns, and the two of them begin to experiment in his parents’ basement.
The second half of the film focuses on Thanksgiving night, which follows Kline and his wife Joan Allen as they attend a cocktail party, Ricci as she sneaks off to spend the night with Wood. At this point in the film, the stories begin to parallel one another, with each exploring themes of sexuality and personal connection in different but similar ways.
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At this point in the film, Joan Allen has discovered that Kline is having an affair with Weaver, and their relationship has taken a significant toll as a result. This toll is intensified when they arrive to the cocktail party to discover that it is a “key party,” or a party wherein the men leave their keys in a bowl for the women to select from at random to determine who they will be going home with. Allen and Kline quickly get into an argument about this, with Allen eventually deciding to let Klein do whatever he wants, and throwing his keys into the bowl for him.
At the end of the night, when the women all select the keys, Allen chooses near the end after her husband has passed out drunk, and decides to go home with Czerny. They attempt to have sex, but Czerny is deterred, lacking the confidence to move forward, despite the fact that Weaver left early on with another man. Where Allen is ready to surrender to her physicality, Czerny refuses, letting his need for honest emotional connection supersede his desire for sex.
While her parents are away at the cocktail party, Ricci sneaks off to meet Elijah Wood at his house, and upon arrival discovers that his brother has left to go to an abandoned swimming pool in the forest. She and Wood decide to go up to his bedroom and lie in his bed together naked, but once they’ve stripped down, they don’t engage sexually. Instead, they talk, and lie in bed together, reveling in an honest emotional connection. It’s a very sweet and innocent moment, and it reveals that Ricci’s hypersexuality is a tool she uses; it scared off Wood, but not Hann-Byrd, and through this, she was able to determine that Wood was genuinely interested in her.
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The parallels between these storylines are most clear when examining the way sex is used as a tool by these characters. Weaver most clearly uses sex as a tool, and she does so for no other reason than her own sexual pleasure, rejecting the intimacy of sex altogether. Ricci uses sex as a tool to test people, but she also uses it as a way to gain acceptance.
When she finds someone who isn’t interested in her for sex alone however, she recognizes her need for intimacy, and embraces a moment of non-sexuality. Finally, Allen, at the end of the film, attempts to use sex as a tool of revenge, wanting to sleep with Czerny only to upset her husband. But Czerny ultimately isn’t interested, desiring only the intimacy that comes alongside sex, and wanting to keep that intimacy between him and his wife.
Finally, Kline himself uses sex as a tool to gain intimacy; he sleeps with Weaver in order to try and have an emotional connection with her, and he spirals out of control when he doesn’t get that connection from her, ending up making a fool of himself at the cocktail party when Weaver leaves with someone other than him.
Ang Lee’s exploration of intimacy in this film is brilliant and subtle, showing the many ways people use sex to gain intimacy. The only real “complaint” I have about this film is that its setting around Thanksgiving is mostly incidental; this story could have happened at any point in the year, and its themes don’t line up with the themes of family and appreciation that are inherent to Thanksgiving. Still, ‘The Ice Storm’ is an excellent film, and you likely won’t find a more interesting film to watch this Thanksgiving (assuming you also require it be set around Thanksgiving).
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strang3lov3 · 27 days
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Bad Habit
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“Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”
After Joel catches you smoking, he gives you something else to put between your lips. (7.2k)
Tags - dbf!joel, neighbor!joel, pervy/sleazy yet comforting Joel, cock from a man who could be your second father, smut, smoking, dubcon elements, blowjobs, masturbation, joel jorks it, oral sex, unprotected piv, creampie, joel makes you smoke until you’re sick to your stomach, vomiting, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘kiddo’ because I am who I am, dubcon, the other stuff Fic help - thank you my dearest @noxturnalpascal for editing <3 and @pinkypromisepascal for giving me your eyeballs and leaving lovely comments, my other main squeezes for brainstorming with me!! @endlessthxxghts @beefrobeefcal A/N - heddo!I sorry for the delay on getting this out. fic posting will continue to be sporadic and weird for a while so thank you for being patient <3 i hope you all have a safe week and I love you very much 🫂💕 definitely didn’t skip class to finish this and watch gilmore girls btw so if you hear that rumor about me it is bullshit it is not true at all
The cool, late-summer air blows gently on your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you sit next to your open window, headphones on, Fiona Apple’s When The Pawn… playing in your ears. You take a long drag of your cigarette and let it fill and burn your lungs, then blow the smoke outside. The sun is setting, the dim light making everything in your room look like a black and white movie, even your own hand in front of you. You love nights like these. 
Eyes gently shut, you’re lost in thought when a tapping on the glass startles you. You gasp when you see Joel, his big hand clutching a large garbage bag. He must have seen you on his way taking the trash out. 
Joel’s your neighbor, he’s been your neighbor all your life. He’s your dad’s closest friend as well, and had a heavy hand in raising you. You used to eat at his house for dinner on Sunday nights, a tradition that’s lasted to present day. As a teenager, you’d spend days and nights at his house when you and your dad weren’t getting along, needing some space from each other. Joel was always a safe person for you to go to. His guest room practically became your second bedroom by the time you graduated. Joel taught you card games, and would make you root beer floats while you played round after round of Rummy. 
Joel was actually the first person to introduce you to smoking. Unintentionally, of course. You can remember him always smelling warmly of tobacco, smelling it on his hair, skin, and clothes when you’d hug him. When you were younger, he told you once, cigarette in his mouth, “Don’t you ever start smokin’. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it,” he said, exhaling smoke, “I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”
“Hey, trouble,” Joel drawls. “You ain’t ‘sposed to be smokin’ that.” 
Joel reaches for your cigarettes and pulls it from your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He examines it, chuckling quietly at the feeling of the stickiness of your lipgloss on the rolling paper. He brings it to his mouth, then takes a couple puffs before stubbing the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe, then disposes it in his garbage bag. Your dad doesn’t need to see your old cigarette stubs when he’s mowing the lawn. “Don’t let me catch ya again,” he warns, then presses a warm kiss to your forehead, mustache tickling your skin. “Get some sleep. G’night, kiddo.”
This isn’t the first time Joel’s caught you smoking. The first time he did, you were probably around eighteen years old. You remember that it was around Thanksgiving, the leaves were still falling off the trees and the air was chilly. It was an evening when Joel and your dad were hanging out in the kitchen, watching a Bears and Cowboys game on TV. Rooting for the opposite teams, your dad and Joel were barking at each other, getting loud and rowdy. There was no escape from the noise, so you snuck out of your bedroom window and just started walking. Joel left his garage door open, so you decided to hang out there. You admired the posters on the wall, Nirvana and The Rolling Stones. Different liquor brand artwork, picked up from when he used to work as a bartender. The garage never changed, always had that faint smell of cigarettes permeating the air. 
Cigarettes. They were on the workbench in the back of the garage, a pack of Marlboro reds just sitting there, waiting to be smoked. To the left of the pack, a little white Bic lighter. You weren’t sure what came over you at that moment but you palmed both items, then peeked over your shoulder to make sure you really were as alone as you thought you were. You held your breath and focused hard, and found that you were able to hear the faint sounds of Joel and your dad yelling. You were in the clear. 
You opened the worn pack of Marlboros and pulled out one of the cigarettes, the first time you ever held one in your hand. You rolled it between your fingers, inspecting it, before you brought it to your nose to smell the tobacco. With trembling hands you placed the cigarette between your lips, and as you fumbled with the little white lighter, Joel’s warning played over and over again in your mind. If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.
But Joel wasn’t there. And what Joel didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. So you lit the cigarette and inhaled, then coughed a bit at the sensation. It was harsh, made your throat feel itchy and scratchy. You didn’t like the way the smoke burned your lungs and you couldn’t wrap your head around how Joel - anyone, for that matter - could become addicted to something as unpleasant as this. You took another puff for the sake of experimenting and you were met with the same experience. Unpleasant. But by the third or fourth drag, you felt the beginning of that headrush everyone talks about. A lightheaded, hazy sort of feeling. Now that…that wasn’t quite so unpleasant. You could see exactly how cigarettes could relieve stress. Taking another puff, you thought maybe you’d steal one or two more from the pack, save them for the end of the week. Smoke them when you’re home from school, before your dad or Joel could see you. And then you’ll shower real quick, wash your hair and brush your teeth and toss your clothes in the washer and -
“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” 
Shit. 
You pulled the cigarette out of your mouth and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray on Joel’s workbench. “N-nothing.” 
“Bullshit, you’re smokin’,” Joel bit, approaching you through the open garage door. “So help me god, kid...” He snatched his pack of cigarettes from you, along with his lighter. “Stealin’, too. These are my smokes. What the fuck’s the matter with you?” 
“Joel, I’m sorry. I-” 
“You ain’t sorry, yet. Get in the truck.” 
“Joel-”
“Get. In. The fucking. Truck.” he seethed. He wore such a threatening scowl, and his face and neck were red, veins bulging in his skin as his anger grew. 
You scurried into his truck that sat on the driveway and Joel followed suit, slamming the door shut before turning the key into the ignition. Even the truck sounded angry as it roared to life. Joel shifted into reverse and drove you down the street, to the nearest gas station. “Stay there,” he ordered. 
You awaited his return anxiously, picking at your nails. Joel returned with a new pack of Marlboro reds and drove back to his home. “Garage,” he said. 
“But my dad-”
“Garage.” 
 If I catch ya with one of these in that mouth of yours, I’ll make you regret it.
Joel made good on his promise. He sat you down in front of the workbench, right where you were before. He lowered the garage door until it rested just about a foot off the ground so that the smoke had somewhere to go. Then he sat in front of you, hit the pack of cigarettes on his palm five times before unwrapping the cellophane and opening the pack. Joel took one cigarette out and flipped it upside down in the pack. 
“What are you doing?”
“Christ almighty,” he sighs. “You’re so fuckin’ young. You pack the cigarettes first, so they burn smoother an’ longer.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. And then you flip your lucky - just the one cigarette.” Joel pulled the upside down cigarette from the pack to demonstrate. “Old World War II tradition, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Sposed to be a good luck charm.” 
Joel pulled one cigarette from the pack for you, placed it between your lips and lit it. He could see the confused expression on your face as you inhale and exhale. 
“Just you wait,” he said. “I promise you, this is a punishment.” 
“How?”
“You’re gonna sit here with me and smoke every last cigarette in that pack. I don’t care f’your lungs start to burn and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re smokin’ ‘em all,” he said. “Now get to it.” 
Joel watched you as you smoked cigarette after cigarette. He was right, your lungs did start to ache and hurt and your stomach had begun to feel queasy from all the nicotine. After about the sixth or seventh, you had figured out that you could make things a little easier on yourself by not breathing in the smoke all the way, just let it hang out in your mouth instead. 
“I started smokin’ when I was around your age,” Joel said as he lit another cigarette for you. “Couldn’t ‘a been older than seventeen.”
You nodded. 
“Why’d you pick this habit up, huh? You know these things aren’t any good for ya.” 
“I don’t know,” you sighed, ashing onto the garage floor. “I just…I don’t know. Stressed out.”
“‘Bout what?”
You shrugged. “Just everything, I guess.” 
Joel nodded. “I get it,” he said. “But there’s other ways of relievin’ stress that ain’t smokin’.” 
“Like what?”
“Well,” Joel began, looking down at his lap. “The cigarettes are causin’ that brain of yours to release those feel-good chemicals. You gotta find something else that feels good, hon. M’sure you’ll figure out what that means.” 
 You felt your cheeks heat up at the implication of how to get your endorphins flowing, but you knew he wasn’t wrong. You nodded shyly. 
“Now keep smokin’.” 
“Joel,” you whined, coughing dryly. 
“Keep it up,” he threatened, “I’ll make it two packs.” 
What felt like hours passed until you finally made it to the last two cigarettes in the pack, and you felt ill. “C’mon,” Joel said. “Last two. I’m smokin’ the last one with ya, and then we’re done, both of us,” he promised. He lit his cigarette first, then yours, and then took a drag. You did too, though it was agony. 
“I don’t feel so good, Joel,” you told him, clutching your stomach and squirming in your seat as the nauseating feeling in your stomach worsened. 
“Good,” Joel retorted. “Means the punishment’s workin’. You ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” You looked at Joel with glassy eyes, your skin a little damp with sweat. “You okay, sweetheart?”
You shook your head. Your stomach churned harder, you felt your mouth salivate as your heart began to beat faster. There was no more staving off the feeling - you dropped your cigarette and sprinted inside, making a beeline for Joel’s bathroom. Joel followed close behind and rubbed your back as you emptied your guts into his toilet until you were dry-heaving. “Oh, I know, I know,” he whispered, patting you gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” 
“Fuck,” you groaned, lifting your head up and leaning back to rest against Joel. He flushed the toilet for you, then helped you up so you could rinse your mouth out in the sink. 
“It don’t feel too good, huh?” he murmured, stroking the side of your face. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna quit smokin’?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“Attagirl,” Joel smiled. 
Joel offered you some Pepto-Bismol and guided you to his couch, where he held you and talked. After about forty-five minutes, he sent you home. Your dad was none the wiser, probably passed out on his own couch after the game. Joel kept your secret under the condition that you’d quit smoking for good, and he quit too. In all honesty, he was shaken that it was his cigarettes you’d stolen, and disturbed by the fact he was the one to introduce you to tobacco - your dad didn’t smoke, never has. He had unknowingly introduced you to it, of course, but Joel still held himself responsible. Joel meant it, smoking that last cigarette with you. He decided that night he was quitting cold turkey. He was done.
-
You should have been done too. You shouldn’t still be doing this. And that pack of Marlboros in your purse shouldn’t be there, you should have thrown it out the other night when Joel caught you smoking out of your window. But you’re in Joel’s backyard, cigarette between your fingers as you listen to the sounds of the family barbecue taking place in your own backyard. 
It was just too much. Your family increases in size every year, be it a new partner, new family friends, new children. And your family is loud. Every conversation happens using raised voices, even if no one is speaking in anger. Boisterous laughter, dogs barking, shrill squeals of excited kids running through sprinklers. There’s no escape from it at all, unless you’re to escape it entirely - so that’s exactly what you did, and why you’re at Joel’s house instead of your own. You needed a momentary reprieve. Separated by nothing more than a thin fence and yet it makes all the difference. Joel’s backyard is quiet, serene. He keeps his fence lined with flowers that he had you pick out at the nursery, he has a nice deck with a comfortable patio furniture set. You rock back and forth in one of the chairs as you smoke, promising yourself after this cigarette - or maybe just one more - you’ll go back to the party. 
The glass patio door slides open, causing you to jump and scramble to put your cigarette out, but you’re too late. Joel’s always a step ahead, somehow. “What are you doin’, kiddo?” he asks in a low, accusatory tone. 
“Nothing,” you lie. 
“You’re smokin’.”
You hang your head. Joel sits in the chair next to you and holds out his hand, palm facing up. You sigh and place your pack in his hand. “I’m sorry.” 
“Uh-huh,” Joel says. “Why’re you still doin’ this? You’re poisoning yourself, sweetheart. It’s breakin’ my heart.” 
You shrug. “I don’t know,” you admit. You open your mouth to speak again, then exhale when you give up. 
“I want you to try,” he urges. “Jus’ talk to me, hon, you’re not in trouble right now. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” 
“Okay,” you nod. You take a deep breath, then begin to explain. “I want to quit, Joel. I do. I tried gum and patches…”
“Go on. I’m listenin’.” 
“They worked for a while, I guess. I was even able to stop entirely, get past the nicotine withdrawals. They weren’t even so bad.” 
“Right,” Joel nods, “But what?”
“It’s stupid.” 
“S’not stupid. Keep tellin’ me.” 
“I missed the ritual of it all, if that makes sense,” you confess. “ Lighting it, holding it. Watching the smoke. Feeling it in my mouth.” You find the courage to look at Joel, and he’s not making fun of you for your admission. He’s nodding along, listening intently. “It’s sort of soothing.” 
“I get it,” he says. “I do.”
“You do?”
“Mhm. S’called an oral fixation, sweetheart. Means it calms ya down to have somethin’ in that mouth of yours. You heard of it?” You shake your head no, and Joel explains further. “Same reason some people bite their nails or chew on straws. Jus’ somethin’ people do.” 
“Oh.” 
“Mhm. You should try keepin’ your mouth busy with somethin’ else.” 
Your mouth goes dry, and you feel yourself becoming flustered. “Joel…” you whisper. 
“Quite the imagination you got there, huh?” he smirks, nudging your knee with his own. “M’not talkin’ about that, dirty bird. Do you have a sweet tooth at all?”
“Um,” you hum, “I guess.” 
“I got a sweet tooth myself,” Joel replies. “C’mon inside.” 
Joel leads you inside, and he doesn’t bother to sneakily throw your cigarettes in the trash. He makes sure you can see it, hear the thud of the pack hitting the bottom of the can. You stand in his kitchen as he opens his freezer and rifles through some items. “Pick a flavor,” he says, “I got green apple, grape, cherry, and lemon.” 
“Cherry,” you answer. 
Joel pulls out a cherry-flavored popsicle and unwraps it for you. “Open,” he says, then places the cold, sweet and tart ice on your tongue. Your hand brushes his when you grab the wooden stick, watching him. You can see the way his pupils dilate when you suck on it, how his chest rises when he sucks in a deep breath. Joel feels his cock begin to thicken in his jeans and abruptly clears his throat. “So, uh, anyway,” he stutters, “It helps to suck on somethin’ sweet. I’ll keep my freezer stocked with these for ya, you just let me know if you have any flavor requests. You help yourself anytime you’re havin’ one of your cravings.”
You pull the popsicle from your mouth, your lips stained red. “Thanks, Joel,” you smile. 
“You’d best get back to that party, hon. I’ll catch up with ya in a minute, nature’s callin’,” he teases, quickly excusing himself into his nearby bathroom. He hears you giggle and whine, “Gross,” as you leave his house. Joel watches you through the frosted bathroom window as you sneak back into the party. He’s palming his growing bulge, pressing his hand firmly against it until he can’t see you anymore, then quickly unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock, leaking and hard. He spits into his hand and strokes himself, his rough palm sliding up and down his thick, veiny cock, squeezing hard. He pumps himself and groans when he comes, spilling into his palm and on his fingers. Joel washes his hands, tucks himself back into his jeans and makes his way back to the barbecue. 
-
You’re in Joel’s truck. It was a long day of work, the phone was ringing nonstop and you could hardly catch a break, though Joel gave you extra time on your lunch to make up for the crappy day. He has you helping him out with his contracting job, having you answer phones and schedule estimates and whatnot. He likes having you around, giving you a little money to burn as you expand your resume. 
At six, Joel tossed you his truck keys and told you he’d be right out there, but that he’s gotta finish up with a client real quick first. “Go ‘head and start up the truck for me, hon, I’ll be out there soon. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes,” he promised. But that was an hour ago, and it’s beginning to get dark. You’re itching to leave. On days you work with Joel, he’s your ride. Oftentimes it’s a blessing as he’s the one paying for gas and driving through traffic, but other times, it’s a curse. You’re on Joel’s time, itching to leave and he’s…doing whatever he’s doing.
You’re getting that feeling again. You’re not sure why, but it’s been happening more and more lately. You’ve been absolutely craving a cigarette recently. Just one, maybe two. You shouldn’t have done it, but you bought a pack at the gas station. Promised yourself you’d save it for special occasions but after this pack, you’d be done. For good. 
You’re just dying for one right now. Turning the pack over in your hand, you watch, anticipating seeing Joel leaving the building. But it never happens. Fuck it. You take a cigarette out of your pack and place it between your lips, and just before you light it, you stop. You look around in his truck, see if he’s got a straw from a fast food restaurant in his glove box that you could chew on, maybe a toothpick. At least you tried. It certainly doesn’t help that it smells like cigarette smoke in here anyway, what with Tommy always smoking when he drives with Joel. You resign yourself to lighting the cigarette, inhaling that smoke you missed so much. That familiar burn doesn’t quite hurt the same way it used to and in fact, it’s a welcome pain now. You love that tingly, heady feeling of the nicotine entering your bloodstream. You exhale the smoke out of the window of the truck and close your eyes. 
You think about lots of things, what you’re gonna eat for dinner when you get home, what movie you’re gonna watch. What flavor popsicle you’ll steal from Joel’s freezer. You think about which vibrator you’re gonna use between your thighs, which ones are charged and which aren’t. 
You’re not being subtle. Shamelessly blowing smoke out of the window, Joel can see you. And in fact, he’s been watching you. He’s fuming as he walks toward his truck and opens his door, startling you and causing you to drop the lit cigarette on your lap. “You are un-fuckin’-believable,” he seethes as he leans over you to pick it up off of your thighs and tosses it out of the window. “In my truck? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“Joel, I’m sorry–”
“Shut up,” he interrupts. “You pissed me off. I don’t wanna hear it.” 
You shrink into your seat and stare at your lap, anxiously circling your thumbs around each other as Joel breathes deeply. He leans back in the driver’s seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning angrily. 
“Joel–”
“Don’t.”
In Joel’s head, he counts backwards from ten, attempting to let go of some of his rage. He looks at you, your eyes are big and pleading, those plump lips of yours are pouting, just begging, aching for something to fit snugly between them. “What am I gonna do with you, kiddo,” he whispers, reaching for your face and cupping your cheek. Fuck, that goddamn soft spot he has for you. “All sorts ‘a trouble you could go an’ get yourself into and you pick the one that’s makin’ you sick.” 
You nod, feeling guilty for putting Joel through this stress. You know he’s right. You’re gonna drive him to pick up the addiction again himself.
He rubs his calloused thumb back and forth over your cheekbone, looking at you with those big, brown eyes of his. They’re sparkling under the diminishing daylight, looking darker than they usually do. He’s so handsome. He’s always been so handsome. 
“Maybe you need to get into a different kinda trouble,” Joel murmurs. 
You pause. “Like what?”
“You know what kinda trouble,” he answers softly, assertively. You look down at his lap and notice that with his free hand, he’s begun palming his crotch, cock hardening in his jeans. “Somethin’ else to satisfy that fuckin’ fixation of yours.”
Joel unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, half hard and growing. “Gimme your hand,” he instructs. He doesn’t wait for you to comply, and takes the pack of Marlboros you had forgotten you were holding out of your hand. He takes your hand and first spits in it, then wraps it around his cock, his fingers wrapped around your wrist as he helps you stroke him. His cock grows to full length in your hand, so thick and hard and meaty. “On your knees, now,” he says. “C’mon. You know what you’re doin’.” 
You sink to your knees and Joel slides to the center of the seat so you’re as close to him as can be. He spreads his legs apart and you slot yourself snugly between them, a hand on each one of his thick thighs. It feels surreal, being in this position. Joel senses your nervousness, and you look so vulnerable on your knees for him. Poor thing. 
He leans forward a little to tangle his fingers in your hair and then pulls you down, ushering you toward his hard cock. “Open up f’me,” he says. You part your lips and he presses the warm, blunt head against them. You open your jaw wider and he pushes you down on his cock, filling your mouth entirely. “Nice an’ wide. That’s it.” 
Joel keeps pushing you down, past the point of comfortability and you choke and sputter on his cock when he hits the back of your throat. “Just relax a minute,” Joel says. “An’ breathe through your nose, kiddo. You’ll get used to it.” 
With his hand tangled in your hair, it’s less of you moving of your own volition and more of Joel guiding you, making you take him down your throat the way he wants you to. You like that. As your head dips lower and bobs back up again, you swirl and drag your tongue along his shaft, tasting that heady, musky flavor of his cock, the salty precum when your tongue slides over his small slit.“Yeah, you know what to do,” Joel groans. “Ohh, that’s it. Good girl.” 
You feel his cock pulsing under your tongue, a welcome experience. There’s something so intimate and satisfying about learning all of the exact, fine details of what Joel’s pleasure looks and tastes like. He rolls his hips to meet you where you’re at, taking control of his pleasure, doing all the work himself. Sweat is beginning to gather on his body, dripping down his temples and gathering on his soft tummy. He can’t help but feel a little like he’s taking advantage of you right now, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop. In fact, it turns him on more. Joel thinks that maybe it even turns you on, too, what with the way you let out quiet, sweet little moans. “You like it, don’t you, baby?” 
“Mm-hmm,” you hum. 
“I know you do,” Joel coos. “Feels good, don’t it?”
You nod your head, moaning as you slide your tongue along his length, swirling it around his head before dipping lower again, your nose buried in those thick curls spattered around the base of his cock, dampened by your saliva. “What a mess you’re makin’,” Joel murmurs, enjoying those wet, sloppy noises you’re making. “Such a good girl f’me, you’re takin’ it so good.” 
You reach for his balls, cupping them and rolling them gently in your palm, eliciting a sharp gasp from Joel. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, “That’s it, kiddo, keep doin’ it jus’ like that. Goddamn.” 
Joel basks in the feeling of being inside your hot, wet mouth, feeling you suck and slobber on him, the dizzying feeling of your tongue teasing his shaft and his head. It’s all so soft, so slick and warm. He can feel it in his stomach, his balls begin to tighten as he approaches release. Joel takes your head in both of his big, masculine hands and fucks your mouth hard. “Oh, Christ,” he hisses. “Fuck, ohhh, fuck.” 
With just a few more deep, frenetic thrusts, Joel comes in your mouth without a warning, just a guttural, deep groan. He paints your tongue with his hot, salty spend, ropes and ropes of it spurting from his thick, twitching cock. He fucks your mouth through his orgasm, his thrusts turning slower, more shallow in time as you take every last bit of his come, swallowing it all. 
“Up,” he tells you, his voice raspy. “C’mere.” 
You sit next to Joel as he comes down from his high, his deep breathing beginning to regulate. Joel looks at you, wipes a bit of his come from your bottom lip with his thumb and pushes it inside your mouth, where you suck the digit and lick the spend. “S’all you needed, huh? My cock in your mouth?” Your face is hot and a little damp with sweat, your lips all swollen as you nod, a little sheepish. “No need to be bashful, sweetheart. S’okay. F’it works, it works.” 
Joel adjusts his jeans and turns up the air conditioner, then scoots back over into the driver’s seat. He pulls you close to his body, tucking you into his side as he shifts the truck into reverse, then drives out of the parking lot. “When that fixation of yours starts actin’ up again or you’re gettin’ nicotine cravings, you to come to me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I will.” 
“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll get ya taken care of.” 
-
Your craving for a cigarette hits as early as the following night. To test you, Joel had surreptitiously dropped your last pack of cigarettes in your purse last night in his truck. You only noticed a little bit ago, when you were digging through your belongings to find your lip gloss. You could smoke them if you wanted to. You do want to. You could be sneakier about it, go for a walk and smoke somewhere Joel won’t see you. 
You slip on a pair of sneakers and throw a light sweatshirt over your shoulders, then walk out of your room and past your father in the living room. “Where you off to, sweetie?” he asks. 
“Just for a walk,” you answer quickly. To be honest, you weren’t expecting him to be awake. It’s late and the TV’s on, which usually means he’s sleeping. He can’t stay awake through any movie or TV show. 
“Mm,” he hums. “Be safe, honey. Come back soon, I don’t like you out too late all by yourself.” 
You promise your dad you’ll be back soon, then leave out of your front door and make a left. As you walk past your yard, then Joel’s, you realize he’s in his garage, tinkering with something at his workbench. He doesn’t see you, and you could walk on by without him noticing, smoke your secret cigarette and he’d be none the wiser. 
But you’d feel guilty. You feel guilty for even thinking about it. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, contemplating. Maybe Joel’s right, that you need to get yourself into a different kind of trouble. You used to feel thrilled when you’d drink underage or smoke when you shouldn’t have been. But Joel’s cock down your throat, on your knees for your dad’s best friend, a man who’s like a second father to you…Well, nothing compared to that thrill. 
You walk up Joel’s driveway and quietly into his garage, he’s got an old CD player on and he’s listening to Nirvana. “Joel?”
Joel turns to look over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Hey, you.” 
“I…” you struggle to get the words out. Joel nods in understanding, he knows exactly why you’re here. You’re such a good girl for him. Always been a good girl.
Joel pauses his CD player and takes your hand, then leads you inside his house. When you’ve finished sucking his cock, he tells you he’s glad you came to him and that he’s very proud of you. On your way home, you throw that pack of Marlboros away. And for once, you really are done. 
You suck his cock the next week at work, when you’re watching Tommy take a smoke break through the window next to your desk. You’re on the phone with one of Joel’s clients who’s been giving both you and him trouble all week, and you’re reaching the end of your rope with this guy. He’s old, impatient, and speaks so rudely to you. After you’ve argued with him in circles for about twenty minutes, he interrupts you and demands that you put him on the phone with a man. You’re livid. “Absolutely, sir. Let me place you on a brief hold and I’ll transfer you to my boss,” you tell him as sweetly. You press a few buttons on the phone and slam it on your desk, then march into Joel’s office, slamming the door and then locking it. 
Joel’s eyes light up. He rolls back in his chair and reaches behind himself to twist the blinds shut, then unzips his pants as you drop to your knees .
The routine happens day to day, week to week. Joel notices that there are days when you suck his cock aggressively, like you’re angry or you’re restless and antsy. But after a few weeks, they don’t quite feel that way anymore. You focus on his pleasure, and not your need to curb an addiction. It felt satisfying to have Joel’s cock down your throat before, and that certainly helped to satisfy your particular fixation. You’re more satisfied now at the notion of bringing Joel to absolute ecstasy, memorizing the way his breathing changes when you trace your tongue along his shaft and around his head. You’ve begun kissing up and down his length, gently sucking his balls and kissing his thighs, his tummy. You used to grip his thighs tight, digging your fingers into his flesh, but you hold his hand, now. It’s passion, adoration, maybe even love. You deserve the same pleasure, Joel thinks. 
Your dad’s out of town for a few days, he’s staying overnight in some city a few hours away for some work conference. He had stocked the fridge with different snacks and had tasked Joel with making sure you have something hot and filling each night for dinner, so you’ve spent the past few evenings at Joel’s house. 
 You’re on Joel’s couch, watching old reruns of Will and Grace on TV as Joel does the dishes. When he’s done, he joins you on the couch. When the show pauses for a commercial break, Joel mutes the TV. “Wanna talk to you ‘bout somethin’,” he says. You turn your attention to him. Joel’s hand drops to your thigh, and he scratches your skin lazily. His touch sends a jolt of excitement to your core. “You’ve been real good f’me, you know that, don’t you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Been a long time since your last cigarette, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you reply, “Couple months, I think.” 
“S’what I thought,” he whispers. “An’ it’s why I wanna do somethin’ for ya.” 
“Do what?”
“Well,” Joel begins, inhaling deeply. His hand goes higher with every pass, fingers closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re starting to feel hot. “I think it’s awful unfair ‘a me to be leavin’ you high and dry the way I’ve been. Not very gentlemanly, huh?” 
Joel’s fingers are wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts, gently skating along your thin cotton panties. “Joel,” you whine. 
“I’m gonna make it even,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. Joel drags the tip of his sharp, aquiline nose over the curve of your ear, then gently bites your earlobe, causing you to squirm. He smirks at that. “Gonna taste you.” 
Joel hovers over you, laying your body across his soft couch. He kneels as he hooks his fingers around your shorts and panties and pulls them down and off your legs, tossing them on the floor. 
His warm, big hands slide up your legs until he reaches your knees, “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he says, and you part your thighs for him. He spreads them wider, pushing your knees toward your chest. Your nerves are on fire as he slides your shirt up your chest, exposing your bare body to him. “C’mere,” he mumbles, dipping his head low to kiss all over your torso, up your belly until he reaches the soft flesh of your breasts, nipping at the skin there before he sucks a nipple into his mouth. 
“Joel,” you gasp, your hands reaching for his head, fingers tangling in his thick, graying curls. He smirks against you as he kisses his way across to your other breast, repeating the same actions and kissing, licking down your stomach until he’s hovering over your pussy. Under the soft, warm light in the room, he admires your body. Your chest is rising and falling with shaky, nervous breaths. Your legs spread wide gives Joel the perfect view of your pussy, curls framing the shape of your cunt. Skin darkened and glistening wet, pearly ribbons of arousal delicately decorating your slick folds. He can’t wait any longer, he needs to taste you now. 
Joel quickly pulls his shirt off and unbuckles his belt, then kicks his jeans off where they join the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. He settles on his stomach and pulls your body close to his face, his hot breath fanning over your damp, aching pussy. To tease you, he kisses his way toward your center, inching closer and closer to where you need him most yet not giving all the way in. “Please, Joel,” you whine. 
“Ohh, I know,” he rasps. He kisses the other thigh, then uses his thumbs to spread your soft folds apart for easier access and licks one long, fat stripe up your pussy. “Oh my god, yes,” you gasp. Joel chuckles at your excitement. He traces up and down with his tongue, his nose buried in the hair that covers your mound. You rock your hips into his face and he holds you tight, limiting your movement so that he holds all control. He’s feeling generous, and you’re going to take all that he gives you. 
“Fuck, right there,” you whimper when he licks your clit in circles. His tongue dips lower, circling your tight, wet hole before dipping inside to taste your sweet arousal. Joel hums in pleasure, he loves everything about this - the way you writhe and moan, how your dripping pussy feels against his face. He dips his tongue and swirls it inside of you before replacing it with two of his calloused, weathered fingers, rhythmically curling them inside you so that he’s hitting your g-spot. 
You’re moaning, babbling his name along with some other dirty words as Joel licks you and pumps his fingers, soaking him so intensely he thinks he could drown. He’d be happy to. There’s nothing he loves more than eating you out right now, passionately lapping your cunt like you’re the first meal he’s had in days. Your moans are becoming quicker, more frantic as you reach for his free hand and suck and bite his fingertips - always needing something in your mouth. He knows you’re close. Joel focuses on bringing you to the edge and sending you over, unwaveringly fucking you with his fingers and his tongue as your thighs are trembling and twitching, then squeezing the sides of his head as you come hard for him. “Joel,” you cry loudly. 
“Yeah, s’it. Give it to me, kiddo. That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” 
Joel works you through your orgasm until the feeling subsides, and then pulls away from you. As you steady your breathing, you close your legs gingerly, hips sore from the position Joel held you in. Joel holds your knee, preventing you from moving any further. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“You made it even,” you breathe, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. We ain’t square yet,” Joel spreads your legs again, then reaches for his cock. It’s rock-hard, the tip is blushed and swollen as he pumps it with his fist. “You gotta come on my tongue a couple more times than that before we’re even. And-” he grunts, adjusting his position before lowering himself over your body. He wraps your legs around his waist and notches his tip inside of you, “M’only a man. I’m gettin’ mine tonight too.” 
With that, he begins to push himself inside you. That slow, deep slide inside your cunt has him groaning in pleasure, Christ, you’re fucking tight. And so warm, soft, and wet. You squeal a bit as you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside of you, his cock splitting you open. “Shhh…” Joel quiets your moans. “Give it a minute, kiddo, you’ll get used to it.” 
You watch Joel as he slowly pulls out of you about halfway, then inches his way back inside you incrementally, little by little until your face relaxes and you let out that first sigh of pleasure. “Oh, there it is,” Joel coos. “Right there, huh?”
You nod, then wrap your arms around Joel's broad shoulders as he sets a steady pace. It’s slow, but not quite gentle at first, before it builds to something faster and harder. He rolls his hips at the perfect angle to have you squirming and writhing in pleasure, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, biting softly where his neck and shoulders meet. His skin is so soft, slightly salty under your tongue. 
“Fuck, good girl,” he praises, kissing the side of your head where your hair is slightly damp with sweat. With each of his thrusts, you feel every inch of him. The scruff on his face brushing against you, his weight on your body, his skin on your skin, his pubic bone grinding against you. He fucks you passionately, sometimes quickening his thrusting, sometimes slowing it down, fucking you with longer, slower strokes. You bask in the sensation, entirely consumed in it all, in Joel. “You’re doin’ so good.” 
You rock your hips to match each one of his thrusts, needing more friction against your clit. “M-more, Joel,” you beg. “I wanna come. Please, Joel, make me come again.” 
Still fucking you, Joel spits onto his fingertips and wriggles his hand between your body. He searches for your swollen, sensitive bud and then paints steady circles into it, using the motion of his thrusting to help bring you to the edge once more. “Right there,” you tell him. “Don’t stop, please.” 
“I know, I gotcha,” he says. “Go ‘head and come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”
You’re right there, right fucking there as he rounds your clit again and again with his fingers. Your reaction is more intense than before; your moans are louder now, pleading, more urgent. Your brows are knit together, mouth wide open when you go quiet - you’re gonna come, and it’s gonna be long and fiery and intense. 
Pure, unadulterated pleasure is all you feel when you finally reach your climax, moans and whimpers falling from your lips like honey until you’re crying Joel’s name, begging him as he fucks you through it. Begging for what, you don’t know. “Joel, Joel, Joel.” 
Your orgasm propels Joel’s own, and he’s growling into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. His come feels so warm inside you, so satisfying. “Oh, fuck me. Jesus, hon,” he groans. “Ohhh, god.” 
His thrusts slow, slow, then stop. He whimpers a little when he pulls out of you, then sits back on the couch. His head resting against the back of it, he turns to you. His eyes travel down your body, where some of his spend drips from your pussy. He pushes it back inside you, finger buried all the way to the knuckle, then pulls you into his side. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. 
You look up at him, “Why?” 
Joel smirks. “ Could use a cigarette,” he answers. “Hits the spot right after sex.”
“Fuck off,” you giggle. “You said we’re done.” 
“We are done,” he affirms. “But our deal’s still in place. Which means…” Joel gently pushes you onto your stomach, then pulls you up by your hips. “We’re goin’ for another round.” 
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If you enjoyed, please reblog/send an ask with some nice comments! Your words keep me motivated to write.
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bahrtofane · 8 months
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just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise
word cout - 800+
watch it - puff fluff and silliness
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5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters. 
halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished. 
you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place. 
it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures.  it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there. 
no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-
your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.
your safe haven has been invaded.
there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg. 
you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality. 
are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no
the audacity of some people. 
you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window. 
you resort to having to use a table like some commoner. 
——-
day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window. 
your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal. 
you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes. 
unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything. 
he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not. 
you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you. 
how interesting. 
——-
your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree. 
especially now that it's the 3rd time. 
you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior. 
never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal. 
you hope his socks are wet for the next month. 
you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever. 
you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later. 
“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow. 
though, he’s even more attractive up close. 
“hello? can i help you?” you try 
“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.” 
your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage. 
“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “
you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”
he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”
“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.
he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”
you hum, “i’d like that. “
he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”
“mhm”
and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon. 
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moviecritc · 4 months
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Hi, so I've recently watched the Thanksgiving movie with Patrick Dempsey and it was sooo good. So I wanted to ask if you could please write something about Charles dating actress!reader who stars in a horror movie but even tho he is not a big fan of horror movies he agrees to watch it for her because he wants to be the best boyfriend so could you please write it with a mix of smau with nell verlaque as face claims 🫶🏻
supportive boyfriend ⋆ charles leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader
word count: 601
warnings: mixed smau and writing
a/n: i, too, am not a huge fan of horror movies (i hate them actually), also this was quite short but i hope you like it <3
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by addisonrae, charlesleclerc and 34,120 others
yourusername some pics from the set 😚😚
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user1 the bond they all have >>>>
addisonrae ❤️👻
user2 i love her so so much
user3 omg i watched the movie and it was amazing!!
user4 y/n the new scream queen frr
user5 wait tf is charles leclerc doing in her likes
user6 girl they're dating u didn't know? she went to promote one her movies to the miami gp last year, they met, become really good friends and they started dating. it was like a rom com truly user5 that's so cute
user7 anyone expecting charles reaction for this new movie? we all know how fearful he is
user8 yess he's probably biting his nails trying to come up with ideas to not see it
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And he was.
He was more than proud of his girlfriend and loved seeing her on screen. He always watched her latest movies on the plane when she wasn’t around. But this was the first horror movie she’d made, and the idea of watching it terrified him. He had always struggled with that genre; his two brothers loved horror movies and insisted on watching them when they were kids, which led to Charles having countless sleepless nights.
He had tried to convince Max or Arthur to watch it before him and tell him if it was too scary, but neither of them had time. He searched for summaries on YouTube, but it was still too early for people to have summarized it.
The only thing left was to mentally prepare himself. Be very aware that it was all fiction and that nothing would come after him once the movie ended.
He arrived at his girlfriend’s apartment, greeting her with a kiss and a box of her favorite sweets along with a rose.
“Aw, thanks, Charlie,” she hugged him and gave him a longer kiss. “Come on, I’ve got everything ready to watch it.”
Y/N was truly excited, and it showed on her face. She was very proud of this project and eager to show it to her biggest supporter at last. Charles knew this and had done everything possible to stay calm. But then he saw the setup: Y/N had turned down all the lights, leaving only a few candles lit, and the movie was already on the TV. The poster showed her covered in blood with a terrified expression.
“Are you ready?” Y/N said, sitting on the couch. Charles followed suit, and she snuggled up against his chest.
“Of course,” he said immediately. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Y/N looked at him with a little smile and kissed his cheek before pressing play. The first fifteen minutes were fine; they were introducing the plot and the characters. But then the tone of the movie started to darken, and Charles shifted nervously in his seat. Y/N noticed and intertwined her hand with Charles’, placing it on her chest.
Y/N realized how Charles flinched several times during the next few minutes, so she sat up and paused the movie.
“What’s wrong?” Charles asked instantly, completely confused though secretly relieved to have a moment to rest.
“Charles, you know I won’t be mad if you’re scared to watch the movie, right?” Y/N spoke with a sweet smile.
Charles pressed his lips together and looked down, just enough for Y/N to widen her smile and kiss him, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “I’m not scared,” he said in the middle of the kiss. Y/N raised her eyebrows, said nothing, and exited the movie. “But don’t turn it off, I want to watch it, I swear!”
“Char…”
“No, let’s watch it, mon amour,” Charles insisted, taking control of the remote.
yourusername just posted a story!
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[caption: guess who haven't slept a shit bc her bf is scared of his own hair]
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charlesleclerc IT WAS DARK AND I FELT SOMETHING IN MY FACE I WAS SCARED
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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🔥 tinder
3.5k / stepdad!joel x f!reader / stepdad master
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A/N: Picks up after Fandango. Nothing has happened with the Mom before this, so ignore that hypothetical drabble.
Warnings: I8+ smut, mdni. stepcest, big girthy age gap, angst. jacking off, groping, oral F receiving. P in V but not with each other. cheating on each other, kind of. graphically overhearing your mom and him have sex :(. Joel's state of mind when he did it.
"Firm handshake," Joel says, then takes a seat on the other side of you.  Joel’s extra aftershave wafts into your nostrils and makes you tingle.  He asks about your date.  Jacques leans forward with his elbows on his knees to tell Joel about where you went for dinner and what you guys had. You glance over at Joel and a subtle snarl is forming. 
Joel is weird after his introspective drive home from your apartment. When you get back to their house, he silently brings the TV in for you, biceps bulging through his thin undershirt.  He sets it up in your room and won’t make eye contact the whole time he’s in your room.  Seems like everything went to hell as soon as you asked about their marriage.  
“Joel.”  He doesn't look. He bends over and his shirt rides up as he plugs the last thing into the TV.  
“Joel, what the hell” 
“What?” he snaps,  “What do you want?”  
You’re not sure what to say, so your default sarcasm spills out.  “What, you can’t tell?”
He rolls his eyes.  “Somethin’ you need right now, or am I done here?” He tosses the remote control onto your bed. He won’t even get within three feet of you. 
“You don’t want me to answer that,” you say. 
He scoffs and leaves, closing the door behind him.  
-
Thanksgiving night, your mom gets home and the three of you eat dinner together.  She asks how the movie was.  Joel blushes and plays with his food, but you smoothly start telling her all about the Exorcist until she changes the subject since she doesn’t like horror.    
“I was thinking, honey, why don’t you come with us to Mexico?”
“I thought you were going for a conference,” you say.
“Yeah, well.  You know how that is.  They wouldn’t have it at the beach if they didn’t expect us to have a little fun.”  She looks at Joel.  Joel is staring at his plate.  She continues, “We were gonna add a couple of days, make a vacation of it.  You could bring a friend if you want.” 
You nod.  “Or just the three of us?”
“Sure,” she says.  Joel puts his fork down and sits back in his chair.  “Ate too much earlier,” he says and excuses himself from the table.  You don’t see him again that night. 
-
The next morning, you go black Friday shopping with both of them.  At most stores, Joel waits in the car sulking, pondering his life.  You buy a new TV for your apartment, a few new bikinis for the trip, and your Mom buys Joel a bunch of new clothes.  You’re going to miss the shrunken ones.   After you get home, your Mom leaves to do more shopping and Joel watches football in the ] living room. You put on a new bikini and go downstairs to model it for him. 
“Well what do you think?” you ask. 
He quickly scans your body, his eyes not lingering anywhere.  “Looks great,” he says flatly, then looks back at the TV.   
You sit down next to him, elbow on the back of the sofa with your head propped up in your hand.  He tries not to look. 
“Give me a break,” he says. 
“I just wanna know if you like it,” you say.  
“Said it looks great.” 
You adjust the cups of the top. “It’s not too much?” 
“Come on, sweetheart.” He refuses to look.   “Just get outta here, okay?”
“Okay, I have three more to try on.” 
“Please don’t,” he says and adjusts the crotch of his sweatpants.
“I dunno why you’re punishing me for your own feelings,” you retort. 
He sighs as though too tired to even try.  
“Maybe I’ll go on that tinder date after all.”  You’re still not planning on it at this point, you just want Joel to loosen up again and hope the threat might help. 
Joel scowls at you.  He knows he can’t tell you not to.  He knows it’s not fair.  “Would you grow up,” he says. 
Your laugh is short and silent.  “I’ll send the other suits on snapchat.” 
You go back to your room and try them on, taking videos and pictures and sending them to Joel. “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one,” you say in a low, sultry voice, then turn the camera to the mirror to show  your ass hanging out of a cheeky pair of boy shorts.  You take some even hotter footage and send it all in real time. 
Joel doesn’t open the snapchats right away.  But soon, you hear the TV turn off downstairs, then he goes up to the master bedroom and closes the door. 
-
You smile to yourself and put on a robe.  He’s totally about to jack off.  Sure enough, a minute or two later, Snapchat tells you when he starts watching your snaps.  You tiptoe into the hall to listen. You sneak as close to his door as you can get without giving yourself away.  You want to hear him do it unrestrained by your presence. 
“God damn,” he sighs and your nipples harden at the sound.  
“I dunno if the ass is too small on this one,” you say through his phone, and he replays it.  “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one.”  And again.  “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one.” 
He breathes loudly and you hear the wet squish of his fist around his cock.  
“Uggghh,” he groans and you know he must be watching the one where you untie the top entirely and let it hang between your breasts.  Outside his door, you slip your hand into your swimsuit and touch yourself as you listen to him breathe heavily.  He audibly pleasures himself  while you put on a show and strip for him on his phone.  He’s so fucking hot.  
“Jesus,” he says to himself.  In snapchat, you must be pulling the swimsuit aside to show him your juicy cunt and how wet you are.  You brought your phone with you in your robe so you can see how many snaps he has left to watch. That’s one of the last. 
“It’s yours, Joel,” you say from his phone.  “Come and get it.” 
“Fuck me,” he sighs and the sound of his voice makes you lose control of your hand.  You put your hand on the door knob and open it. 
His phone repeats, “It’s yours, Joel.  Come and get it. . . It’s yours, Joel.  Come and get it.”  You see the reflection of the explicit video in his glasses.  He fumbles with his phone to stop it from playing again. 
“What the hell are you doin’ here,” he whispers gruffly with his cheeks pink. 
“If you’re not gonna come get it. . .” you say, putting your hands in the pockets of your robe and splaying them out to show your whole body. 
“Your mom’s on her way home right now.” 
“That’s what you wanna talk about?”  You take a hand out of your robe pocket and slip it into your swimsuit, dipping a finger into your pussy, letting your head fall back, exposing your neck as you bite your lip and touch yourself.  Then you snake your hand up your torso, between your breasts, to your neck.  You walk all the way up to him, stepping over a trail of shopping bags from the walk-in closet to the bed.  When you get to Joel, you put your fingers in his mouth and he licks them clean with his eyes closed.  Then you take his free hand and put it on your breast, slipping it under the swimsuit.  He does nothing to stop you. You start touching yourself again. 
He strokes his cock faster.  He wets his lips and breathes deeply as he palms your breast and watches you touch yourself.  
Then you hear footsteps on the stairs, and your Mom’s voice.  “Honey?” She must have left the garage door open while she was out.  No warning. 
“Shit,” he whispers, yanking his hand away from you.  He looks around.  You close your robe.  “Closet,” he says, pulling his pants up over his wet, hard cock.  
“No!” you whisper.  But when you see your Mom’s shadow arriving at the top of the stairs and Joel all disheveled with his lube right on the nightstand, you don’t see another option.  You’d have to cross the bedroom door to get to the bathroom.  
-
Just as you hide in the closet, your Mom enters the bedroom, and her paper shopping bags clatter against the door on the way in.  “It’s just you? Thought I heard someone.”  She’s headed your way with the bags.  This was so stupid.  So, so stupid.  You could have just tied up your robe and acted like you were getting something from their bathroom.  
Joel intercepts her.  “C’mere,” he says.  “Why don’t ya let me put those up later?” His voice has a seductive air about it and a pit opens in your stomach.  
“Joel,” she says accusatorily and laughs. “Were you watching porn?”
“What if I was,” he says.  Of course he’s still hard and pink in the face.  Terrible at hiding his humiliation.
“Hope you saved some for me,” she says saucily and your heart drops. She closes the bedroom door.  
This is a worst case scenario.  
You hear kissing.  So fucked up.  You plug your ears and dissociate.  What follows is a torturous symphony of breathing and moaning from both of them for the longest five minutes of your life.  You seethe, then you cry as silently as possible.  Of course he’s thinking about you - of course.  You gave him that hard-on. Is he doing it out of spite? Out of panic? Surely he could manage not to moan if he was only doing it because he felt like he had to.  He knows you’re RIGHT THERE.  Can he really  not control himself? 
While you’re still in the closet, you post one of your sexiest swimsuit photos on instagram.  Then you text Joel, “This is so fucked up. I don’t want to ever hear a word from you about my dates or instagram or anything else.”  You send him a screencap from Tinder where you’re confirming your availability for a date with Jacques.  “Hope you’re happy,” you add. “Fuck you.” 
When it’s over, your mom goes to the bathroom and you make your escape, wiping your eyes with one hand, holding your robe closed tight with another,  not even looking in Joel’s direction. You can feel him looking at you, though.  
-
You slam the door to your bedroom.  
Joel responds to your text, “You’re right, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.”
That makes you even more upset.  You want it to be his business.  You get in your bed and sob.  
“I dunno what to say,” he adds. “I didn’t know what to do.  If you can’t forgive, me I understand.” 
You respond, “You didn’t have to act so into it.”
He says, “I was trying to make it quick. I’m really sorry.” 
You don’t reply. 
“I wish I could undo it. I’m sorry.” 
You don’t respond. 
He asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” 
Fuck no, you don’t want to talk about it. Why would you want to talk about it?  You stay in your room for a long time but eventually go to the kitchen to get something to drink.  He must hear you going downstairs because it’s only a minute before he comes down, too.  
“Hey,” he says.  “You okay?” 
How would you be okay? You don’t have anything to say to him.
He says, “I was gonna, uh, go to the gas station.  You want a drink or somethin’?” You don’t answer.  
You go back to your room.  When he gets back, he knocks on your door. You don’t answer.  He goes back downstairs and texts you that he got you a drink and put it in the fridge.  
The next morning, you come down for breakfast and he’s there.  
“How’d you sleep?” he asks.  You don’t answer.  He watches you pour a glass of orange juice in silence.  You drink it and put it in the sink.  He leans against the doorframe from the kitchen to the hall, blocking your way.  As you go by, he gently puts his hand on your chest and whispers, “Hey.”  You look down at his big, veiny hand.  How dare he platonically put it on your chest? You take a deep breath, your breast swelling into the heel of his palm. 
“What?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  “Please forgive me.” 
You laugh condescendingly. 
“Or at least talk to me,” he begs with puppy dog eyes. 
You return to your room without another word. 
Over the next few days, you go back to your apartment and Joel tries texting you casually.  He snapchats you too, but you don’t answer it.  
-
A few days later, you go out with Jacques to get your mind off Joel.  Joel remembers your plans.  He’s still thinking about it. 
“Have fun on your date,” Joel texts you.  The nerve.  If Jacques is hot enough in person, you might give Joel a taste of his own medicine in terms of what Joel has to overhear.  You’re glad you hadn’t decided the location when you sent Joel the screencap, lest he show up.  
Jacques is hot.  You go out to dinner, then bring him home to your mom and Joel's house instead of your apartment. The two of you sit in the kitchen first and you make him a drink.  You continue your conversation from the date.  His voice is deep and smooth, but not as sexy as Joel's. You can’t help but compare everything about them.  You and Jacques take your drinks to the living room to watch a movie.  You sit in the middle of the sofa and Jacques sits by your side. 
-
Before you've even picked a movie, Joel walks in. He spreads his feet and crosses his arms, pushing out his biceps with his hands underneath them. Then he just stares at you.  He looks like he’s trying to restrain himself.  
"Joel," you light up insincerely. "This is Jacques." 
Jacques gets up and shakes Joel's hand.
"Firm handshake," Joel says flatly, then takes a seat on the other side of you.  Joel’s extra aftershave wafts into your nostrils and makes you tingle.  He asks about your date.  Jacques leans forward with his elbows on his knees to tell Joel about where you went for dinner and what you guys had. You glance over at Joel and a subtle snarl is forming at the edge of his nose.  You lean back against the couch since they’re trying to talk to each other. 
Joel asks, "So what'd ya talk about? Any common interests?" 
"Oh yeah, we both love horror movies," Jacques says. 
"Nice," Joel nods. "She tell ya we went to see the new Exorcist?" 
"Um, yeah. She mentioned it was good." 
Joel chuckles, then looks at you. "It was good, huh? You'll have to catch me up before the next one, sweetheart." He gives your thigh a squeeze and winks at Jacques. Then he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "Where ya from, Jacques?"
"El Paso," he says.  Joel doesn't hide his surprise. Then Jacques adds, "My parents are French." 
Joel nods thoughtfully. "Am I sayin' it right? Jock? Or is it Jack?"
"Jack is fine."
"Nice." 
-
You interrupt them. "I don't think Hulu's working in here. C'mon Jacques, we can watch in my room."
"Now hold on, I'll fix it for ya," Joel offers and puts his hand on yours, reaching for the remote control. 
"Nah," you say. "Wanna try out my TV in there anyway."
“Alright,” Joel mumbles.  He runs a hand over his beard.  If he didn’t feel so guilty, he’d be losing his shit right now.  You’re sure of it.  He’s trying really hard to be fair.  You and Jacques get up off the sofa, then Joel stands up. 
"It was nice to meet you," Jacques says and shakes Joel's hand again. 
"You're the stepdad right?" Jacques removes his hand from Joel's death grip. 
"Guess I am tonight," Joel mutters.  
“Sorry, what?” Jacques asks. 
"Yeah, he is," you say, then look at Joel. "Where's Mom?" You ask. "Figured y'all were going to have some quality time."
"Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart," Joel says, then briefly massages your shoulder before walking away to the fridge.  
-
You and Jacques watch Equalizer 2.  
Joel texts you, “Don’t do this.” 
After about fifteen minutes you respond, “?” 
“Please,” Joel texts.  “You’ve made your point.” 
You don’t reply. 
“I know I deserve it, but I wish you wouldn’t.” 
In another twenty minutes, you see the shadow of feet under your door.  A few seconds later, there’s a soft knock. “Gonna make some popcorn, y’all want some?” Joel asks.  You tell him no thanks. 
Toward the end of Equalizer 2, Jacques gets handsy with you and you welcome the advance. He’s not bad with his hands, but you also don’t hesitate to exaggerate your sounds of pleasure.  But that exaggeration turns into real enjoyment.  You relish the opportunity to release all your tension into someone else’s body.  Someone who wants you unapologetically and would hopefully never make you hide in a closet.  
Jacques has a big one, too.  You close your eyes and pretend he’s Joel as you’re making out and his hard cock is grinding into your crotch.  You moan into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel Joel's beard against your cheek.  Jacques whispers your name and says, “I want you.”  He takes his cock out and wraps your hand around it.  You grab it hungrily without opening your eyes.  You hear the tear of a condom wrapper and your breath hitches.  Your body wants it.  
-
Then the fire alarm goes off.  You cover your ears and Jack puts his dick away. You don’t bother fixing your hair or skirt. 
“Sorry!” Joel yells from downstairs.  The smell of burned popcorn fills the hall.  It takes him a minute to turn off the alarm, of course.  Jacques opens the bedroom door to see what’s going on.  Then Joel comes upstairs out of breath and apologizes for the commotion.  
“Sorry ‘bout that, guys.” Joel hovers there in the door with one of his hands on the frame.  
You cross your arms on your bed, and Joel’s eyes fall to where the bedding is messed up.   
“Well, It was nice to meet ya, Jacques,” he says.  “Lemme walk ya out.” 
Jacques is confused.  “I, uh.” 
“Um, I guess I’ll call you,” you tell Jacques.  
Relief washes over Joel’s face and he asks you, “Your Mom, uh, needs a ride, you wanna come with me in a minute?” 
Jacques looks back and forth between the two of you.  “Yeah, guess I better go,” he says to himself.  
Joel walks him out.  
-
When Joel comes back from walking Jacques out, he tries to be casual, but his body is clearly tense.  
"Really think he bought that performance?" Joel asks as he pushes into your room. He closes the door behind him and leans against it with his butt.  He looks at Find my Friends on his iphone.  “She’s ten minutes away,” he says and pushes off your door to approach your bed.  
"What performance?” you ask. 
"C'mon, sweetheart.  You were fakin' it."  He lifts the comforter and sheets and inspects them. "Dry." 
Your cheeks burn. 
He sits down on the bed and picks up the unused condom still in its wrapper.  "Least you woulda been smart." 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you ask.  “Leave me alone.” 
“Can’t, sweetheart,” he murmurs and puts his hand on your thigh. “I can’t.” 
“Then do something about it or get the fuck out,” you whisper.  
He slides his hand up your skirt and slips his fingers right into your panties.  “That for me or him?” 
You roll your eyes.  “Shut up.” 
You lean back on your pillows and he gets between your legs.  He hikes your skirt up and pulls your panties down, then plants his face between your thighs, lightly caressing them from the outside with his big, masculine hands.  “Gotta be quick,” he murmurs into your pussy, then digs in.  He sucks and laps at you and inhales deeply through his nose.  Your hips lift into his mouth.  You whine his name. He pauses and looks up but doesn’t reprimand you.  He penetrates you with his tongue and moans into your cunt. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you breathe.  He devours you ravenously, moaning and sighing, until your thighs tense and your hips lift and you moan his name as you come in his mouth and he laps up every drop.  
He tears his head away and looks at you affectionately.  He’s panting and his face is dripping wet from the nose down.  He kisses your inner thigh, then gives you a hickey there on each side.  
The garage door opens downstairs.  Joel stands up and adjusts his joggers to accommodate his massive erection.  He’s still breathing heavily.  He wipes off his face.  He walks to your door and opens it without a word.  He turns around and looks at you, then closes the door behind him.  
-
THANK YOU for reading and thank you so much for your reblogs and comments! Now more than ever. PSA: definitely follow if you're into this, because i'm shadowbanned and not showing up in tags. this also means i can't make comments or send or receive DMs. follow @toxicfics for notifications and @toxicrecs for reblogs.
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1K notes · View notes
residentflamingo · 3 months
Text
Twice’s Favorite Core Memories with You
Twice x fem! reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: fluffier than a marshmallow 🥰
A/N: I just watched the new inside out movie and it was so good! 🥹 It may or may not have made me cry hehe. That movie is mostly where I got this idea from, but not 100%. I think I had been thinking of doing something like this for a while now, but I didn’t know how to word it. I know I said I was going to post the Jihyo fic a few days ago, but that one is taking a little bit longer to write than I expected. Not to worry though! It’s almost done and I’m super excited to show it to you guys. In the meantime, enjoy this little idea I came up with today <3 I love all of you, make sure you take care of yourselves during this hot summer. No matter what your body looks like, you will always be beautiful in a swimsuit ❤️
*✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚
Nayeon
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Watching you sleep when you stayed over at her house for the first time
Going to the park with you at midnight to play on the swing set
Making a scrapbook with you after you guys go on a trip together
You coming to the studio and supporting her during her solo era
Teaching you how to swim
When she called you from the studio, and ranted about how much she missed you even though she had called after an hour of being gone
Meeting your friends, and them telling her about how much you talk about her
Hugging you during a horror movie because you were too scared to watch it
Picking you up from the bar when you were so drunk that you didn’t recognize her, and told her to go away because you had a girlfriend
Giving you a massage everyday after work
Jeongyeon
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Seeing you walk down the isle during the wedding
You telling her that you were pregnant
When you cuddled up to her in the middle of the night, and she had to console you from your fear of thunderstorms
Staying up late at night to have deep conversations with you
Kissing your tummy during your pregnancy
Going to the beach with you for the first time
Slow dancing with you in the kitchen at 3am
When you consoled her during her moments of insecurity about her body
Watching you putting makeup on in the morning
Carrying you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch
Momo
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Going to a Twice concert and telling her how good her solo perfromance was
Coming home late to see you fast asleep on the couch with the dogs
Helping her take off her makeup at the end of the day
Letting her cry on your shoulder after she had a bad day at dance practice and struggled with the choreography
Teaching her how to cook one of your favorite dishes
When you both laughed so hard at a joke that soda went out of your nose
Surprising her with promise rings in Paris
Her teaching you some different choreographies from Twice songs
Walking the dogs with you
Randomly brainstorming different names for your future child
Sana
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When she met your family and spent Thanksgiving with them
Hugging you so hard after her one week quarantine that she knocked you guys over
Turning the volume all the way up and singing along to music in the car
When you guys danced and kissed in the rain
Doing your makeup for you
Her kissing all of your freckles after mentioning that you didn’t like them
Seeing you cry tears of happiness after she suprised you with an expensive gift
Finding your old baby pictures and putting one of them in her phone case
Shopping for baby clothes with you
Painting your nails
Jihyo
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When you both went ice skating for the first time, and fell on the ice
Watching you play with her nephews 🥹
When you told her that you were proud of her and all of the work that she does for Twice
Getting down on one knee and proposing to you
When you surprised her at one of her solo performances after telling her you couldn’t make it
Watching you listen to her album before she released it
You meeting her parents for the first time
Playfully arguing about who gets to pay for dinner
Surprising you with a bouquet of flowers and watching you squeal with excitement
Trying new foods with you at a restaurant
Mina
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Playing video games with her
Her first kiss with you
When you fell asleep on her lap on the first date
Building Lego sets together
Going to the convenience store with you at 3am to get some sushi
Taking you on a shopping spree, and buying you things you couldn’t afford growing up
Movie nights with cuddles
And also watching your favorite childhood movie for the first time, and seeing how excited you looked
Getting to see your reaction after watching her solo stage performance
Braiding your hair
Kissing your nose every time you get cold
Dahyun
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Cooking pancakes with you on the days that she’s off
When you helped write lyrics for one of her songs
Surprising her in her hotel after she told you she was getting homesick on your
The time you were drunk and you told her how much you loved her smile
Her teaching you how to play the piano
Showing her your childhood photos
When she took you to her hometown, and she gave a little tour of it
Coming home late and seeing you cuddled up with a stuffed animal
Playing trivia games with you
Taking care of you when you’re sick
Chaeyoung
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Getting a small tattoo of your name onto her arm
Her first date with you
When you complimented her on her beauty mark
Drinking tea and helping her think of ideas for new songs
Seeing you in a dress that was her favorite color for the first time
Finding you in the sea of people at one of her concerts
Doing the pockey challenge with you
When she took driving lessons with you
Listening to your parents tell her stories about when you were little
Taking an art class together and doing some pottery
Tzuyu
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When you first told her that you loved her
Throwing her a surprise party on her birthday
When she took you back to her hometown and visited her parents
The many phone calls you two have when she’s on tour
Sitting outside and watching the stars with you
Going to the park and feeding the ducks
Listening to you rant about your personal interests
Hugging you from behind while you cook
Giving you a makeover and making pillow forts
The slow dance between you two during your wedding reception T-T
176 notes · View notes
stararch4ngelqueen · 10 months
Note
Self indulgent but … thanksgiving w a gf who loves the holidays but doesn’t have family or friends to spend them with ?
This is really small and super quick, I hope you enjoy it! I do hope you have a wonderful day! (Also went ahead and incorporated two things I made today just because my mind is too lazy to think of anything else. If you don’t like them, womp womp/jk Pretend Gotham War dosent exist)
Time written - 8:09 p.m
“You sure I’m not invading in on their celebration?” You vocalize your concern for about the fiftieth time after smoothing out your final layer of fluffy, whipped concoction for your dessert dish.
“If anything, Alfred will appreciate one less dessert to make.” Jason responds, casually leaning across the countertop across from you, watching you work your magic on making one of your miracle dishes. While you didn’t necessarily have to bring a dessert, you insisted as a show of good faith.
“It’ll give the old man a reason to sit down for once,” Jason adds, referring to Alfred’s insistence upon waiting by everyone until they got full plates and thoroughly enjoyed a majority of their meals.
You kept asking the same question, just with different rephrasing of words. You were nervous, Jason could see that by the way you smoothed the silicone spatula over the top of your dessert for the tenth time, insisting perfection on something that already tasted heavenly.
Jason would know. He’s always your designated taste tester.
You went above and beyond with everything you did; Making your own whipped cream, using Madagascar vanilla beans, making your own pudding base from scratch.
“Babe.”
“Hm?” You respond with a concentrated stare on your dish.
“Look at me real quick.”
You spare a short glance up at him, putting up a sweet front of a smile. “What? I’m almost done, Jay.”
“I know,” Jason curts. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”
You nod, swallowing before focusing again on the top of your dish. You picked up the recipe from an online blog article about three years ago; an upgrade on a traditional banana pudding using heavy cream and expensive flavoring, the dessert reeking of pure holiday that had to be shared with the rest of the world.
“Are you sure this looks okay?” You ask, feeling like the top of the dessert needed a lot more than wafer cookies and bananas. Nuts? Caramel drizzle?
“It looks great,” Jason insists, approaching your side of the counter, settling his hand along your hip. “Scratch that. It looks delicious, incredible, mouthwatering. All the good words, sweetheart.”
You can’t help but smile, your cheeks warming with his compliments. Raising your whipped cream spoon to his mouth, you tap his bottom lip before giving him a kiss, hearing his muffled chuckle shortly after.
“Decadent,” He adds, licking his bottom lip of any remaining, perfectly sweet cream. “Perfect. Believe me, Dick and Alfred will never see any banana pudding the same way again.”
You could only hope so, giving him another smile. You liked making this dish, bringing it to your work during little dinner parties. The loudest compliment was a dish scraped empty, yet no one ever asked for the recipe. No one wondered who made it, no one really asked.
“You sure it looks perfect?” Again, your doubts can’t help but have you repeat your broken vinyl record. “I want it to be perfect.”
“It is perfect,” Jason gently reassures with firm sentiment, giving your cheek a soft squeeze. You set your mind to something, you keep at it until you’re perfectly satisfied. As stubborn as it makes you, you always try above your best.
This was your first official gathering with the entirety of Jason’s family. It wasn’t your first, as you’ve been over a few times before for pizza and burgers for movie nights, but never with every single Bat related member at a large, ornately decorated table in an extravagant dining room.
Especially, never with Bruce. Not until tonight, where they’d have a little private event to themselves at the manor. A rare occasion where masks and secret identities weren’t needed. Sometimes, criminal behaviors didn’t allow them a break, so this was truly a treat.
Dick could be himself, fussing over preferences of pumpkin and sweet potato to an annoyed Tim. Babs would scoff her amusement while recording them to show off during Christmas, and the rest would gawk or scoff, chatting amongst themselves or listening in on such a boisterous conversation.
This time, the special guest would be you; the girl Red Hood was sweet on long before you knew his name, becoming the sole guardian of every important identity of the Wayne family.
“Trust me. They invited you, it’ll just be us. It was a big vote with no one opposing.”
Those words brought a more comforting, genuine smile to your face, one Jason could tell was more truthful. Holidays were joyfully dreadful to spend alone in an empty home, the promise of a manor full of friendly faces happy to see you, happy to spend time with you and incorporate you into a tradition you desperately craved was a godsend. It felt too good to be true.
The best part of it all was how much Jason understood. He didn’t celebrate these kinds of holidays when he was a child. No foster family, or even his own mother, could spare enough money to provide grand meals and hours of spending time with people you care for.
It took him a long time to get used to it, he wanted that for you as well. You deserved it after all, they all liked you in their own unique way.
“I’m sure a solid nine out of ten attendants will enjoy those sugar cookie martinis,” Jason murmurs while adjusting a few strands of your hair, reminding you of the one underage family member that ‘tolerated’ your presence.
“Do they got a full stock of vanilla vodka?”
“Course they do. Personally know Bruce has a ton of amaretto.”
“‘Personally?’”
“All those bottles for our dates, babe. Grabbed them all from somewhere.”
511 notes · View notes
superhero--imagines · 2 years
Text
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Bat Boys on Valentines Day
Dick Grayson
* Made reservations a month ago
* Cross-checked the regular menu and seasonal menu to make sure there were things you’d like and conformed to your dietary preferences
* Surprises you with flowers and a big ticket high-fashion item like a Luis Vuitton bag or a pair of shoes
* When he hands it over the shocked look on your face makes him smile.
* You shower him with kisses in a second.
* “I” *kiss* “love” *kiss* “you” *kiss* “so” *kiss* “much!”
* He laughs at the ticklish feeling and kisses you back when it’s over.
* “No, I love you so much.”
Jason Todd
* He hates crowds and decides to make you a nice pleasant meal at home.
* He decided the menu over a month ago, a full four course meal with curated cocktails, wine and ambiance.
* He ‘borrows’ some fine dining dishes from the manor and sets the table up with candles and a bouquet of flowers.
* “Do you like it?” He asks, nervous and afraid—he cooks for himself all the time but cooking for you makes him afraid beyond belief
* What if you don’t like it? What if you have a secret allergy? What if you never want to talk to him again because he didn’t take you out like a traditional date?
* “I love it! The risotto is so good and, are these truffles?”
* Afterwards he gives you some books he knows you want or that you would like and pressed flower bookmarks that he made himself.
* “Jason Todd, you are my entire heart.”
Tim Drake
* He forgets.
* “I thought Valentine’s Day was always on Thursday!” He shrieks, flipping through the phone book for any restaurant that’ll take you.
* “That’s Thanksgiving Tim.”
* But it’s okay—
* “Shit, you think dominos will still deliver today?” You shout from the other side of the room.
* —because you forgot too.
* You have pizza in bed while watching movies and cuddling.
* “This isn’t the worst right?” He asks.
* “Any day with quality time with you is a good day.” You mumble after a yawn, cuddling into his chest as he flushed bright pink.
Duke Thomas
* Classic Dinner and a Movie
* You guys haven’t been dating for long so he doesn’t want to scare you off with anything intense.
* You end up goofing around too long at the arcade connected to the movie theatre and missing your reservation slot.
* You end up getting soft pretzels and sitting by the lake.
* “Honestly, I think this is way better than eating at a French restaurant.”
* He laughs, “any time with you is a good one.”
Damian Waybe
* It’s a three person date — You, Damian, and Titus.
* You go for a walk around the lake, playing with Titus and jokingly splashing each other, and then a picnic on the grassy bluff above.
* “It’s pretty quiet today, huh?”
* “Everyone’s probably at the new french restaurant downtown.” He holds out a dipped strawberry for you which you bite into.
* “The one you can pronounce?”
* You laugh at his frown, pressing a kiss to his cheek, only to laugh again when Titus nudges you with his nose and places his head in your lap with a wagging tag.
* “Of course I didn’t forget you, kisses for Titus too!”
Bonus:
Bruce Wayne
* Wines and dines and sixty-nines you
* He’s probably got a standing reservation at the best restaurant in the city on account of the fact that he’s richer than god
* Gets a private room or balcony that overlooks the city so you have privacy but also the glitz and glam of a night out
* Already called ahead of time and got the chef to make your favorite dinner—just for you
* As a gift he gives you six orgasms in a row a cute little diamond accessory with his initial in gold.
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beyondthesefourwalls · 10 months
Text
Merry Christmas Mishaps
Summary: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way. 
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 3.7K
Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Non-descriptive smut that’s more alluded to but still there. 
Notes: Back on my Javy Needs More Love agenda, but make it the ✨Holiday Edition✨
Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "I have a secret".
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Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. 
When you had fallen in love with him, agreeing to move to San Diego to be with him since he couldn’t exactly relocate for you (he would have, in a heartbeat), you had done so with little to no hesitation. Being together was worth getting used to a new time zone and weather patterns. Last year, he had accompanied you home for the holidays, being introduced to every aunt and uncle and cousin twice removed as the boyfriend who had whisked you away to sunny California, experiencing every tradition and festive tourist trap he could have imagined, his cheeks cold and his toes numb, but with a giant smile on his face because of how happy you were. 
This year, though, he had drawn the short straw amongst his squad and would be working half a day on the 23rd and then the day after Christmas, too. And you, in all of your beauty and grace and complete and utter stubbornness, had refused to entertain the idea of going home by yourself. 
“For God’s sake, Javy. You think I’d let you spend Christmas alone?” 
You had sounded truly scandalized at the suggestion, and neither of you had talked about it since. 
But he knew. 
You were as cheerful as ever on the outside, even more so, really, overcompensating with the winter wonderland that your shared condo had turned into. Hardly a surface wasn’t covered in something festive since your negotiated date of the 15th of November (you were of the belief that Christmas started on November 1st, where he was a strict after Thanksgiving guy). Christmas playlists were on a constant rotation, and he’d watched more Hallmark movies in the last few weeks than he was willing to admit. You were doing everything right to make it seem like you were in the holiday spirit, but he could see the way the light in your eye dimmed just the slightest bit when you didn’t realize he was looking, and how sometimes your smile was just the tiniest bit forced. 
He knew that you missed the familiarity of home and the warmth of family and tradition. He had tried to get your parents out here instead, but it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped. It really would just be the two of you for Christmas. You had assured him that that was all you needed, and deep down, he knew you were telling the truth. Still, he wished he could do something more to make it feel like what you were used to. 
It was a week before the holiday when the idea came to him. You were watching yet another Hallmark movie, set in a snowy mountain town that was fighting to keep a beloved bakery alive (or maybe it was a toy shop, the plot lines were all starting to blend together for him), and you made an off hand comment about the likelihood of ever seeing snow while living in California. It was nearly two AM as you both slept in bed under a green and red duvet when his eyes popped open and he shot up to grab his laptop, suddenly knowing exactly what he could do. 
Javy spent the next several days feverishly planning, making calls and sending emails in between hops and classes. He felt like a kid trying to keep the ultimate Christmas present a surprise, giddy with excitement. It was a gamble, the forecast changing almost by the hour, but he was confident it would be worth it. 
Coming home from work at lunch time on the 23rd, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. You were in the kitchen transferring cookies into a tin from a baking sheet when he walked through the door, the condo smelling like chocolate and sugar. Michael Buble played in the background, and he couldn’t help but watch you for a moment before he announced his presence. 
“Hey baby,” he said. You spun to face him, and he could see the touch of melancholy in your eyes. 
“Hey you.” 
He crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel the way your body relaxed against his. He held you tighter. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” he whispered into your hair, and you giggled as you pulled away to look at him, your smile warm and sincere. He felt a flutter that he was able to do that. 
“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” you returned, raising on your toes to kiss him. He could taste your peppermint chapstick on your lips.
“I have something for you,” he said, and your eyebrow raised in question. He shot you a wink and squeezed your hips before he stepped away. He practically jogged over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, grabbing one of the boxes he had placed there earlier this week and hurrying back to you. He held it out to you with a dramatic bow, causing another laugh to escape from between your pretty lips. “For you, m’lady.” 
“You’re such a dork,” you said, but there was fondness laced through your voice, and Javy just smiled. You took the box from him, running your finger over the shimmering gold wrapping paper. You looked at the gift wistfully before looking back at him. “It’s not Christmas yet.” 
“An early gift. Come on, open it. For me?” 
You rolled your eyes at his exaggerated puppy dog expression that he played up just for you. With a sigh that quickly turned into an excited grin, you tore into the paper. He laughed as you did, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you loved presents. 
He could tell you were confused when you pulled out the soft, fluffy scarf, followed by the matching beanie, both in a dark forest green that he knew you favored. 
“These are so nice, baby. I love them. But it’s 70 degrees outside right now?” 
Javy nodded, not bothering to fight the smile that was taking over his face. “Yeah, but it’s colder up in the mountains. So you might need to bundle up.”
You looked up at him in shock, your eyes widening with each passing second. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“I rented us a cabin up in Big Bear. It’s just for a couple of days, but I thought maybe we could get away just the two of us. Maybe get some snow and have a white Christmas after all, if the weather pulls through. But at least a colder one, just like you like.” 
You were staring at him with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and Javy knew he had made the right decision in surprising you. He mentally captured the look on your face right now, wanting to keep it as a memory forever. 
“Javy…” 
It wasn’t often that you were speechless, and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out as he asked, “Are you surprised?” 
Instead of answering, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. You wrapped your legs around him when he lifted you off your feet and pulled back just far enough to kiss him soundly. 
“This is the best gift ever,” you whispered against his lips. “I love you.” 
You were on the road within the next two hours, the presents from under your tree all packed up in the car as well as the cookies you had just freshly baked. It was almost a three hour drive and by the time he was winding his truck up the mountain side, the sun was setting. You were leaning as far as you could against the window, eyes glued on the outdoor landscape. A thin sheen of snow lined the ground, and you could see the faint shine of Christmas lights from tucked away houses.
Javy reached over to take your hand, lacing your fingers together. You turned to him smiling, and he felt his heart swell. He knew that this was exactly what you needed.
He helped you out of the car once he parked in the small driveway, and he could see the awe written all over your face. The cabin was wooden and cozy, the outside completely decked out in twinkling lights. He could see through the windows that the inside had lights on, too, and he knew the request he had put in with the rental company to have all the Christmas lights up and turned on at the time of arrival had been fulfilled. 
“Oh, baby,” you breathed, spinning in a slow circle once you walked through the front door. The cabin itself was small, a studio set up where every room flowed together with ease and little separation, but it was decorated just as extravagantly as the condo, only moreso, somehow, with the mountain environment and cabin feel adding a deeper element of festivity. 
“This is beautiful,” you said softly. Javy dropped the bags by the door and closed the small distance between you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 
"I'm glad you like it," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "I know Christmas looks a little different this year. So I wanted to make it special for you." 
You turned in his arms to look at him, eyes shining with tears. “You make everything special,” you told him, and he could hear the conviction in your voice that made it so he couldn’t help but believe you. "Thank you," you whispered. "This means everything to me."  You kissed him, and Javy held you close, his hand stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.
You kept things simple that night, making an easy dinner and then cuddling up on the small couch in front of the fireplace to watch a movie. He insisted on something not Hallmark, and you didn’t fight him at all, laughing as you threw on The Santa Clause instead. 
The next day, the two of you went all out on modified versions of your family’s Christmas traditions. You made an absolute feast for breakfast, full of way too many carbs and way too much sugar that you both ate happily and without a care in the world. You baked even more cookies, and Javy discovered that he had quite the talent for decorating them. The two of you laughed and teased each other as you both tried to outdo each other’s designs, and he kissed your pout away when you eventually conceded defeat.
“You’re too perfect. It’s actually ridiculous.” 
You went for a walk in the early afternoon, bundled up in coats you never got use out of in San Diego. You wore the scarf and hat that he got for you and kept your hand in his the entire way. When you got back to the cabin, noses and fingers cold, you started cooking a meal that was way too much for two people. Normally that was reserved for Christmas day, but you’d have to head back home tomorrow night so you were modifying everything just the slightest bit to accommodate while still making it a trip to remember. 
You sipped sweet red wine together after dinner, trading stories about holidays as kids, when you gasped loudly, jumping up from the couch. He looked at you in concern as you practically sprinted to the window. 
“Baby, what-”
“Javy, it’s snowing!” 
The wonder in your voice was palpable. He got up and joined you at the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently to the ground in the dark, reflecting off of the array of outdoor lights. It was a beautiful sight, truly. 
“Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all,” he said, his voice low and husky as he wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him, smiling contentedly. You just stood and watched for a few minutes before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Want to go outside?” 
You turned to face him, the excitement in your eyes evident. “Yes!” you exclaimed, already grabbing your coat and shoes. Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm, but really, he was just as excited as you were. 
The air was crisp and cold, but you hardly seemed to notice as you twirled around in the falling snow. He just watched you for a moment, content with the spectacle he was witnessing. You slipped just the slightest bit on your next spin, and Javy caught you, holding you steady as you started to giggle uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but smile at your joy, feeling his own heart warm at the sight.
“Careful,” he playfully admonished. You just sighed happily as you settled against him. 
“Never thought I’d get a white Christmas in California,” you whispered. 
Javy’s pulse picked up as he thought about one of the gifts he had for you, suddenly desperate to give it to you. He swallowed thickly as he kissed your cold cheek. “Let’s head back in.” 
You showered together, the hot water helping you regain some of the warmth you had lost from your unexpected snow excursion. You poured glasses of wine as he set some cookies on a plate for you to share, and the two of you settled in front of the Christmas tree. You eyed the gifts eagerly; it was nearing midnight now, and neither of you wanted to wait until morning. 
You took turns opening the handful of gifts you got each other, swapping stories and reasonings behind them as you did. Plenty of laughs and kisses were exchanged as you went, and before he knew it, you were both surrounded by wrapping and tissue paper. 
Looking at you now, basked in the tree lights and the glow of the lit candles scattered throughout the room, the fireplace crackling in the corner, he knew there wouldn't be a better time than right now. He cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention from the custom puzzle he had made for you of one of your favorite pictures. 
“I have one more gift for you,” he murmured, and his heart started racing wildly in his chest as he reached behind the tree, lifting the tree skirt to grab the small box he had hid underneath it. It was beautifully wrapped, adorned with a silky green ribbon and a small gold bell. Your eyes widened as you looked from the box to his eyes, and he could see the question written all over your face. His heart leaped in his chest as you took it from him, your fingers brushing his before smoothing over the elegant paper, different from what the rest of your gifts had been wrapped in. 
“Javy,” you breathed. “Is this…?” 
“Open it,” he urged, a small smile playing on his lips. You slowly undid the ribbon, setting it aside and then gently running your finger beneath the tape to get the paper off, showing a delicacy you hadn’t before. 
You gasped when the velvet black box was revealed, and when you met his eyes again, there were tears lining yours. 
“Go ahead, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes dancing with anticipation. 
You bit your lip through the smile he could see appearing, staring at him for a long moment, before you finally looked back down. With a deep, shaky breath you snapped the box open. He held his breath as he waited for your reaction, only for his stomach to drop when, instead of the radiant smile and excitement he was so confident you would have, your eyebrows furrowed together, a frown contorting your features. You looked not only confused, but heartbroken. 
“I don’t understand.” 
“What?” he asked, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What do you mean?” 
Without saying anything, you turned the open box to face him. Javy felt horror course through him when he looked down to see that the ring box, which was supposed to be housing a shiny, sparkling engagement ring that he just knew you would be in love with, was completely empty. And instead of the name of the jewelry store staring back at him on the silk lining of the inside lid, the LSU logo from the box that at one point held his class ring that was on his hand was staring back at him instead. It took his mind a moment to really register the implications of that, and the groan he let out was long and drawn out. 
“Oh my God,” he said as he smacked his forehead, “I’m an idiot.” 
You still looked confused, but maybe a little less heartbroken as you cleared your throat. “Huh?” 
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleaded, and he scrambled to grab your hands, sliding himself closer to you on the floor. He knocked the offensive empty box to the ground. 
“I kept your ring it in my sock drawer-”
“Real original.” 
“Thank you, I know,” he responded without missing a beat, “But I also keep my class ring box in there, and I must have grabbed the wrong one when you were in the shower before we left yesterday. I had looked at the ring so many times that I swore the hinges on the damn box were gonna snap so I made myself keep it closed and oh my god-” 
You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head and wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Javy, it’s okay,” you said. 
But it wasn’t, not to him at least. He had planned this whole getaway so meticulously and the proposal had been something he had been thinking about for so long. He had bought your ring months ago, and had been so excited to give it to you. 
“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. This was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” he apologized again. 
You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s not ruined,” you said firmly. “I mean, yeah, this wasn’t exactly how you planned it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you forever.” 
“I just wanted it to be special,” he muttered, still feeling embarrassed. He imagined he would for a good long while. 
You smiled at him, that sweet tug of your lips that has damn near brought him to his knees since the very beginning. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, giggling softly. You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. 
“I don’t care about the ring, Javy. I care about you. And this is perfect.” 
He looked at you, tears stinging his eyes. A grin slowly spread on his face as he processed your words. “Are you saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. 
You grinned right back at him, shrugging playfully. “Are you asking?” 
Javy couldn't contain the emotion that coursed through him. The empty ring box was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled up between you. "Yes! Yes, I'm asking!" 
Your eyes sparkled when you pulled away, and you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. It took him a second through the excitement to realize why, and he felt his face heat with embarrassment again. "Oh! Right. Right. Baby, I love you. And I had a whole speech planned, but it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. All that matters is me and you, yeah?" You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Javy felt as calm as he had all night just from the look you were giving him. "Marry me?" 
You kissed him again, your lips molding perfectly against his. He had to rank it as one of the best kisses the two of you had ever shared together. “Yes,” you breathed, your noses brushing together as you nodded fervently. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 
You squealed at the sudden movement as he scooped you up into his arms as he stood. He spun you around once, twice, your shared laughter filling the small, warm space. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he held you, trusting him not to drop you. He knew the smile on his face must have been ridiculous - his cheeks were starting to ache by the constant pull. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He kissed you again, and you returned it eagerly. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you the few steps to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you. 
He made love to you slowly, his hands roaming every inch of your body, caressing and exploring with a tenderness that matched what he was feeling. He savored every breath and every touch. There was no rush as you moved together. The tree lights glowed and the fireplace crackled, and it was like just the two of you existed, tucked away from the rest of the world. You clutched at him as he expertly brought you to the edge. 
You lay cuddled up with him afterward, your head on his chest as his stayed wrapped around you, holding you close. 
The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of your steady breathing and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Javy traced lazy patterns on the bare skin of your back, his touch gentle and loving. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner, snow was still slowly falling outside, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was after midnight at that point. He pressed a kiss to your head, sighing in content. 
"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart." 
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Main Masterlist
Notes: This was incredibly self indulgent. I actually love him so much, it's unhealthy. Hope you enjoyed this one!
Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help as usual, and to Mak for the absolutely stunning banner.
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Text
casual pt.4
paige x azzi
where my perkins tolerators at???
they'll be a part 5, maybe a part 6
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“Here girls let me open up the trunk for you,” Paige’s mom says as they approach the car. Azzi had already been subjected to a somewhat awkward reunion between mother and daughter, and now she has to sit through a forty-minute car ride with not only Paige and her mother but her siblings as well.
Paige truly does love her mother, and her mother loves her. When Paige’s mother, Amy, found out she was having a girl she was over the moon. So excited for the princesses, the pink, the dresses, and the unicorns that would fill her life once her little girl was born. It didn’t take long for Amy to catch on that her baby girl was a copy and paste of her father, Amy’s estranged husband. Between Paige being a constant reminder of her failed marriage and several states between them, Paige didn’t see her mom too often. Amy thought inviting Paige’s best friend would sweeten the deal and encourage her to come. She was right, but as the girls giggle as they load their stuff into the car. Amy silently rejoices as she sees her daughter happy to be in Montana for once.
As they pull out of the airport parking lot Paige’s younger siblings, Ryan and Lauren, begin to fire off every question and fun fact that hits their mind. Paige and Azzi indulge them by giving the kids the silliest answers that she can to keep them entertained as Amy navigates the snowy mountain roads. Finally, they reach Amy’s home. As they bring in their bags Paige nudges Azzi, “y’know you’re staying in my room right? My mom said she set up the guest bedroom, but I told her you’re fine with me.” Conflicted, Azzi responds, “P, if your mom went to all that trouble I should at least humor her.” 
Amy leads them into the house, stopping at Paige’s room so she could drop off her bags before taking Azzi further down the hall. “Here you go Azzi, let me know if you need anything, okay sweetie?” Azzi nodded her head as Amy shut the door behind her. She held my hand the whole flight… who does that?? Casual my ass, Azzi thinks to herself. She stares up at the ceiling, am I stupid??? What am I doing here?” Azzi’s thoughts are interrupted as she hears knocks on the door. Azzi sits up at the sudden noise and looks over at the door. It’s Paige, she lets herself in as Azzi gives a nod of approval. Paige makes her way over to the bed and sits down next to Azzi. Silence fills the room before Paige breaks it. “Don’t sleep in here,” Paige looks at Azzi. She has a earnest look in her eyes, “Please, I need you with me…” “Okay,” Azzi replies “I will.” 
 Amy turned on a movie for the kids to watch as she worked on Thanksgiving dinner for the next day. Ryan and Paige played Fortnite on his switch as Azzi let Lauren tell her all about the fourth-grade drama ensuing at her school. Azzi even pinky swore to not tell anyone that Lauren had a boyfriend, a boy in her class named Brady, who played basketball but wasn’t super good. Azzi also promised to beat him in a game of HORSE if he broke her heart. As the night continued, one more movie and three more bowls of popcorn later, Lauren and Ryan were asleep. Paige carried Ryan as Azzi carried Lauren to their rooms. Meeting back out in the hall after they had laid their respective kid down, they went into Paige’s room. Azzi briefly imagined what that would be like someday, laying their own kids down to go to sleep. But reality hit as Paige left Ryan’s room and ushered Azzi into hers.
Paige closed the door as she pressed Azzi up against it, kissing her neck. “I’ve waited all day to do this, Az,” Paige muttered as she kissed a trail down her neck. Azzi could give you a list of a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t give in right now, but she ignores all of them as she slips her shirt over her head and lets Paige lead her to the bed.
Hours later when Amy walks by, after finishing a night-long cooking session, she peeks into Paige’s room. The two girls lay in bed, burrowed into the blankets. Too tired to really process anything she figures they must’ve fallen asleep talking. As snow falls over the peaceful Montana mountains that night. Paige pulls Azzi closer as the cold winds seep through the window crack.
“Wake up!!! Wake up!!! You’re gonna miss the parade!!!” Lauren and Ryan run into Paige’s room as the two girls frantically attempt to untangle their limbs. “We’re up! We’re up! Geez get out of here!” Paige yells as her younger siblings retreat out of the room. Paige gets up and throws a sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants toward Azzi, “it’s cold as shit,” she mutters as puts warmer layers on. The two join Lauren and Ryan in the living room watching the parade. They decide to join the kids’ protest of breakfast to save room for their Thanksgiving dinner.  
After the parade is over Paige retreats to her room to change as Azzi wanders into the kitchen. She finds a distraught Amy at the kitchen table. “The wind must’ve knocked the power out last night! The fridge never turned back on. All of it is spoiled! God I can’t do anything right,” Azzi envelopes Amy in a hug. “You couldn’t have known that that was going to happen… It’ll be okay,” she reassured her, “we can go out to eat! It’ll be fine it’ll be okay!” Paige walks in and sees Azzi hugging and soothing her mom. Concerned at what happened Paige approaches them, but Azzi brushes her away and mouths to “not worry about it.” 
Azzi helps Amy find a restaurant open on Thanksgiving day. They settle on a Perkins that’s about thirty minutes away. While it wasn’t the Thanksgiving dinner she had worked so hard to give her kids, it was still something. Amy loaded the kids into the car as they waited on Paige and Azzi. “When you were with my mom… That was really sweet, Az,” Paige held Azzi’s cheek and turned her towards her. “It was really no problem,” Azzi replied sheepishly. “I love you, Az, I mean it,” Paige looks Azzi in the eyes before finally bringing her lips to hers. Paige pulls back, as Azzi looks up at her, “I… I… think your mom’s ready to go.” 
As Amy pulls into the Perkins parking lot, its deserted. They walk into the resteraunt, and are seated immediately. Amy can’t help, but wonder if they’re judging her. Once their orders are taken, Paige excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Looking around the table, Azzi decides that going to the bathroom now would be less awkward than sitting with Amy, Ryan, Lauren, and their father. She follows Paige to the bathroom, and opens the door to see Paige splashing her face with water. “You okay, P?” Azzi asks. “Yeah, fine,” Paige responds. “No, you’re not P…” Azzi looks at her. “I said I loved you, Az, and you didn’t say anything back,” Paige replies. “I do… I really do love you Paige, its just I’ve been so confused about what we are lately I just couldn’t say it,” Azzi responds, moving towards Paige, “What are we?” “We’re what we’ve always been, Az,” Paige says grabbing her hand. Azzi should’ve been pissed off by this non-answer-answer, but as Paige grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. “Yeah?” Azzi responds, playing with Paige’s fingers in her hand. “So… do you love me?” Paige asks, “I love you, P” Azzi responds bringing her hand up to kiss it. “Then show me,” Paige says as she drags Azzi into a bathroom stall. “This isn’t a good idea,” Azzi says as she pulls at Paige’s flannel to expose her shoulders. “Your mom’s out there… she could walk in…” Azzi tries to justify between kisses. “So let her,” Paige breaks out as she grabs Azzi’s hair. 
Azzi presses Paige against the door as she kisses down her neck. Shedding her flannel, Paige throws it on the floor as Azzi helps lift her shirt above her head granting her access to more skin. Azzi kisses down Paige’s neck and stomach before arriving at her jeans. She looks up at Paige for permission as she unbuttons her jeans. Azzi pulls her jeans down and kisses the clothed area before moving to her inner thigh. Azzi rises back up to Paige’s height as she plunges two fingers deep into her folds. 
When the girls arrive back at the table, their meal is already out. They tried their best to smooth each other’s hair, and rid each other of a freshly fucked look. Amy sarcastically welcomes them back to the table, and for a split second, she wonders if her mom is catching onto them. 
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steddiealltheway · 2 years
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Thinking how on Thanksgiving, Steve’s parents never come home which he’s honestly thankful for. But the holiday itself has never meant anything to him really. Before, it was just a day where he was forced to dress up, be quiet, eat the turkey his mother made that his father always said was too dry, and try to comfort his mother while she cried and cleaned up.
This Thanksgiving, Steve plans on staying in and watching a movie, maybe throwing a frozen meal in the microwave. Just another day really. He would’ve taken a shift at the Family Video, but they closed for the day.
He wonders what everyone else is doing. If the Wheelers are already arguing if it’s too early to put up Christmas lights. If Dustin is getting kicked out of the kitchen for “taste testing” his mom’s pie fillings. If Robin is able to hold her tongue in front of her crazy aunt. If the Hopper-Byers first Thanksgiving is going well. If Eddie and Wayne or the Sinclairs got Max to join them for dinner. Maybe Steve should’ve invited her and her mom over.
He shakes his head at the idea. No one would want him to host Thanksgiving. He wouldn’t know how.
The doorbell rings. Steve’s heart races. His parents aren’t supposed to be home until after Christmas.
He reluctantly makes his way to the door and opens it. The first thing he spots is the familiar mop of dark curly hair.
“Eddie? What are you doing here?” Steve asks, taking in Eddie’s smiling face.
“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. Do you have any plans?” Eddie asks, bouncing on his heels, obviously excited for some reason.
“No,” Steve says. “What are you-?”
“Great, that would be awkward,” Eddie says, then calls out behind him, “We’re all clear guys!” Eddie grabs Steve’s hand and tugs him away from the doorway.
“Eddie. What-” Steve stops when he glances behind him and spots the Henderson’s first. Claudia rushes in somehow balancing four pies wrapped in tinfoil in her arms while Dustin holds some type of casserole.
Steve lets go of Eddie hand and rushes up to grab two of the pies from Claudia and guide her to his kitchen to set them down. By the time he turns around, he’s greeted by Joyce who hugs him tightly after setting down a large bowl of what seems to be mashed potatoes. As Steve melts into the hug, he feels Hopper clap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. When Joyce breaks the hug, Robin appears by his side, hugging him and whispering, “Thank god this got me out of talking to my crazy family.”
Dustin eventually shoves Robin out of the way and announces, “My turn!” as he hugs Steve which eventually turns into a large group hug as the other kids rush in. Steve looks around at everyone and tries as best as he can to hide the happy tears in his eyes. He almost lets one slip as he sees even Mike join in on the hug.
As they all break away, Steve pinches his nose to keep himself from crying and shakes his head in disbelief. Nancy and Jonathan make their way over to give Steve a quick hug as well. “How- just how?” Steve asks them.
Nancy smiles and glances towards where Eddie is standing introducing his uncle Wayne to the other parents. “Eddie had the idea and arranged it all,” Nancy says with a wink and rushes off to help arrange the food.
Steve glances towards Eddie for a few moments, warmth blossoming in his chest. Eddie glances up and makes eye contact with Steve, shyly smiling at him. Steve’s heart skips a beat.
“Hey, sweetheart, do you have plates we can use?” Joyce asks kindly, breaking Steve away from Eddie gaze.
“Yes, of course,” Steve says smiling brightly at her. She looks at him knowingly, and Steve blushes and feels his eyes start to burn.
Steve gets a stack of plates out of his cabinet and sets them down where there’s some spare room on one of his counters. He glances over at everyone talking and filling his house making it actually feel like a home for once.
Steve’s heart races and he feels the pressure behind his eyes build a bit. He easily slips away down his hall and makes his way into the guest bedroom. He takes a deep breath trying to get ahold of himself.
The door opens behind him.
“You okay?”
Steve turns to find Eddie closing the door behind him, looking worryingly towards Steve.
“Yes,” Steve says honestly, vision blurring.
Eddie stays in place, fiddling with his rings rambling, “I should’ve asked you first before I did this. I just… I know you mentioned how you didn’t have any Thanksgiving plans, and I just couldn’t let you spend it alone. You know, you saved us, all of us. You saved me, and I just can’t ever repay you for something like that, man.” Eddie takes a deep breath and continues, “And I just wanted to show how thankful I am for you. How thankful we all are for you. But now I’ve just overwhelmed you and kind of took of your house like a goddamn idiot. I mean what was I thinking-”
Steve cuts him off by pulling him into a tight hug. Eddie tenses up at first but then relaxes into it, bring his arms up to squeeze Steve back. “Thank you,” Steve says, two tears falling down his face. He can’t remember a time when he’s ever cried with joy.
He pulls away and swipes at his face. “Shit, this is embarrassing,” Steve says with a laugh then explains, “I haven’t cried in front of someone since I was a kid.”
“Sorry,” Eddie says pulling his hair in front of his mouth and folding in on himself.
Steve laughs, and feels another tear fall down his face. “No, no. Eddie. I’m not crying because I’m upset. I’m just so damn thankful, you know?”
Steve sees a hint of a smile grace Eddie’s face as he continues, pointing towards where his kitchen is, “This is the first time I’ve had a Thanksgiving with a real family, and I can never repay you for that.” Steve moves forward and cups Eddie’s face in his hands. “Thank you,” Steve says.
“I mean, saving me from dying versus a big meal,” Eddie says with a snort tilting his head from left to right. “I can’t imagine who has a bigger debt to repay.”
Steve rolls his eyes and leans forward, pressing his lips against Eddie’s cheek. “I’m so thankful for you, Eddie,” Steve says with a soft smile.
“I’d be more thankful for you if you would’ve moved that kiss over a little,” Eddie jokes.
Then, Steve does exactly that. Eddie jumps a bit, probably not expecting Steve to actually do it, but then he’s running his hands through Steve’s hair and kissing him back.
When they pull away for air, Eddie comments, “Yeah, I’m definitely very thankful for you.”
Steve laughs, “That was a horrible line!”
“You’re acting like you didn’t say it first!”
Eddie joins in laughing, resting his forehead against Steve’s.
There’s a knock on the door. Steve breaks away from Eddie and reaches around to open it.
Joyce stands on the other side with a concerned look on her face. “Is everything okay in here?”
“Yes,” Steve says with a bright smile.
Joyce smiles back and says, “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to start making our plates soon.”
“Thank you,” Steve says and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Come on.”
The boys follow Joyce back to the kitchen where people are starting to pile their plates high with all the food that was brought. A few people notice Eddie and Steve holding hands, but they don’t make a big deal out of it. Except Robin who nudges Nancy and directs her gaze towards them. They both look at each other and say, “Finally.”
When everyone is sat around Steve’s dining room, living room, and kitchen, eating, talking, and causing a general ruckus, Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand and thanks him again.
He has a lot to be thankful for this year.
(I’m so thankful for you guys this thanksgiving. So sorry I haven’t been very active. I’ve been sick and so busy. I love you all)
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tangerinesgirl · 10 months
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Turfucken
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(gif credit to Sony Pictures on tenor. can someone please make some HD GIFs from this movie, I suck at making them 😭)
**SPOILERS FOR THANKSGIVING (2023)**
AFAB!Reader x Sheriff Eric Newlon
Word count: 1.1k
Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors
Warnings: smut, feeding/food play/sitophilia, pregnancy, cream pie, daddy kink, some silly jokes, age gap but reader is legal
Summary: Sheriff Newlon is preparing for the best Thanksgiving yet, you have other plans. Set after the Black Friday Massacre but before the Thanksgiving the following year. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
You were greeted by the smell of sage and onion, cranberries and roasted potatoes before you even walked through the door. Eric liked to be well prepared for Thanksgiving every year, his favourite holiday. This year he wanted it to be the best yet, he had all sorts of new recipes to try, and you weren’t complaining.
As you walked through the door and unwrapped your scarf you heard him summoning you in the kitchen “Babe! Come here, you have got to try this!”
You throw your keys in the ceramic pot with a satisfying clink as you walk into the kitchen. Eric was practically dancing around the kitchen; thanksgiving themed apron and oven mitts on, removing a pot of cranberry sauce off the stove. He removed his mitts and slammed them down on the counter, a very small act but he made it look so hot. His hair disheveled from the heat of the kitchen, he shook his head to remove the stray hair that landed on his forehead.
He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the sauce, he blew on it to cool it down and beckoned for you to try it with a raise of an eyebrow and a look down at the spoon. You take the utensil and lick it clean with a pop. It was unlike any cranberry sauce you have eaten. Usually no one bats an eyelid at the sauce at Thanksgiving dinner, it always tastes the same. But not this one, it was sweet and sour with the perfect amount of umami.
“Holy shit what did you put in it, crack?”, you say, immediately going in for seconds.
“Ah ah no double dipping! And yes I put cocaine in the sauce, pros of my job”. You were pretty sure he was joking, but it was hard to tell the past year, ever since the Black Friday Massacre he was like a totally different person, and you fell for him, hard. You fooled around a lot, but never anything more, but you liked to test the water occasionally, maybe today is one of those days. It was difficult for him to get over Amanda, which was totally valid to you, she was your friend too and you were in this revenge plot together. You knew his plans this year and you both want it to be perfect.
You both were quite the town gossip, people kind of knew something was going on between the two of you, but your age gap of 32 years was extreme for a lot of people. You were perfectly within legal age though, and it was none of their business. You couldn’t help but admit it was kind of a turn on for you though, being a slut, and for the soon to be serial killer. 
The kitchen counters are covered with food, with foil on the top to keep warm, you think he’s been cooking all day while you were at work. You sit down on the kitchen island and admire the sight of him dashing around the kitchen, making sure everything is turned off.
He reaches into a dish of roast potatoes with his hands and puts some stuffing and sauce on the top and holds it out to you. You go in for a bite but he pulls back and smirks. You drag him towards you with his apron, your legs spread embracing him and passionately kiss him, his stubble tickling your face.
He still has the potato in his hand and stuffs it into your mouth between kisses. You put on a show and moan while you eat the best roast potato of your life. You grab his wrist and lick his fingers clean, looking him dead in the eye as you do so. He watches you, deciding his next move.
He walks to the counter and uncovers a whole roast turkey from behind him. You walk over too and watch him carve it, he gives you the first piece. After you eat it, you pull on his hair and whisper in his ear, “I want you to stuff me like that turkey, put a baby in me, or two, just call me a turducken… well, more like a turfucken really”. He laughs, but you see his erection, clearly turned on by feeding you and enjoying yourself.
He suddenly snaps and slams you into the kitchen island, empty pans flying across the room. He kisses you wildly, his hands roaming your body frantically. You remove his apron and his trousers as he removes your underwear from under your dress. He grabs your hands around your back, making you turn around so you’re bending over the island.
He slams inside you, impatient, like a man starved. You moan at the sudden intrusion, he is larger than average and always hurts so good as he reaches to your cervix. He pulls on your hair and you arch your back as he thrusts into you manically, the B word clearly a turn on for him. You cling onto the side of the island for dear life.
He stops and turns you around, kissing and nibbling on your neck. He lifts you up and walks you to the dining room table, and puts you down, facing him. He strokes your belly gently and says, “when I’m finished with you, I want you to stay put and lift your hips up. I can’t wait for you to grow so large and make everyone think you’re pregnant with quadruplets, be the talk of the town and make people on the street talk shit about us. And when I catch them I’ll put them in their place, as I’m the fucking town Sheriff ”, you are taken aback at his commands but god it was so hot, and whisper a “yes daddy”.
"Good girl", he starts pushing inside you again, the table shaking with the weight. He leans on the wall behind you to go even deeper inside you. You’re both close, you could have come at his words alone, so it didn’t take much to send you over the edge. He stops and you keep him inside you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moans and strains as he unloads inside you, you can feel him releasing stream after stream, there’s a lot and it takes a while for him to stop, some of it leaks onto the table. He gives you some to try on his fingers that still taste of cranberry sauce. He stays inside you a little bit after he finishes, stroking your belly and looking into your eyes. You move a bit further down the table so you can lift your hips quicker as he pulls out of you. He watches you lift your body, nods, and leaves. He comes back later with a towel, some water, and a plate of trimmings to share.
If this is the sex before the John Carver plan, you can't wait for what’s to come next.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Editors note: I was going to include a pigs in blanket joke at the end but it turns out that's only a British thing and not a Thanksgiving food?? You learn something new every day.
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neuroprincess · 3 months
Text
Bunny Ears and Chocolate - Ava Coleman/Female Reader
Ava Coleman/Female Reader
Summary: When another celebration arrives, you think it's going to be one more blank day, but an unexpected gift and a wonderful girlfriend prove otherwise.
Classification: Slight angst, Fluff
Warnings: Reference to a reader's unhappy childhood, Ava being a romantic baby
Note: I should have posted this at Easter, but you know me, I just found it in my archived writings
Word count: +2200
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Unrevised
Growing up in a home that was considered unstructured and not at all affectionate deprived you of many moments that other children had throughout their lives: the tooth fairy didn't even bother to leave 5 cents for each tooth that fell out, Christmas didn't have the same sparkle as the TV commercials and Thanksgiving was always summed up in canned food, maybe a fight between your parents in the kitchen at the end of the night. It was no different with Easter, every now and then you'd get a cheap bar of chocolate at school or from some kind neighbor, you didn't even take part in a neighbourhood egg hunt. The whole process was a gray area between so many celebrations, weekends and holidays spent watching movie marathons with lots of popcorn and a pinch of loneliness by choice. 
It was like that for years, until you met Ava, who never cared about any of this before and you thought it might be a good match when you started dating. However, she had this, her parents were affectionate and gave the best moments that continue to be remembered fondly when each of these dates arrives. You like to hear her describe every toy she got from some distant relative and later exchanged for something more interesting with classmates, the weird casseroles grandma invented for dinner or when she bought the first make-up with the money the fairy, aka her mom, left under the pillow. Between laughs and jokes, she always looks forward to hearing your stories and can't hide disappointment when the subject is suddenly changed, teasing you a little, but giving up so as not to make you uncomfortable. Deep down, you start to care and feel envious of all the lost moments, all the things you can't have, the invisible, dormant childish wounds festering. Wounds set aside, especially when it comes to her work as a teacher at Abbott.
"Miss Y/L/N, how do we know if the butterfly is male or female?" one of the students asks, leaning over the table to get a better look inside the transparent box.
"Don't be silly, Kayla!" another replies, rolling his eyes, and does the same "They're all female."
"Actually, not all of them are female, dear." you stand between them and point to the insect that's emerging from its cocoon, weeks before you found a caterpillar in Barb's flower beds and it collected itself in the cocoon, which coincidentally ended up hatching on the last day of school before holiday "That's a monarch butterfly, if there are dark spots on the hind wings it's a male and if not it's a female."
"But it hasn't opened the wings yet." Kayla observes sadly, for a child minutes can seem like a real eternity "It's taking too long..."
"That's just it, hatching can take from 10 minutes to 60 minutes, each one has their own time."
"Just like the rest of us," she adds with a hearty smile.
"You all see how incredible metamorphosis can be?!"
A little animated chatter starts up as your class waits anxiously to watch it fully emerge from cocoon, most of them debating which names to choose and how they would take care of it, forgetting the little agreement they had made, you decided to let them enjoy the moment before scrapping the hopeful children's plans.
"I don't see any spots!" Carson shouts excitedly "We've got a girl!"
After a while, they agree on a name and end up naming her Lizzy - cute, short and pretty. In third period, your kids gather to release her into the playground, and you take advantage of the moment to explain the relationship between butterflies and Easter and all the meaning behind the beautiful transformation. 
"Miss Y/L/N..." Kayla calls out to you shyly as everyone gets ready for break, most of them already running, the girl puts her hands behind back and blushes approaching the table "I saved this one for you."
She holds up an Easter egg wrapped in fluffy colored paper, a bow adorning it and making the package more attractive. The girl stares at you with her eyes shining in anticipation as you fight back imminent tears, not something you expected to happen when you woke up in the morning. It's your first chocolate Easter egg in all your years of life, a small, innocent gesture from a schoolchild that makes the entire wall built up around commemorative dates and traditions crumble in seconds.
"Thank you so much, dear..." you accept the treat with a little uncertainty, hands trembling as you hold the candy "I..."
"I knew you'd like it, it's very good, I promise." she says cheerfully and leaves the classroom, as if she hadn't just made a grand gesture.
As soon as the girl leaves, the principal comes through the doorway with her usual cheeky grin and full of curiosity about your reaction, asking herself what she could have done to you, none of which comes close to the real thing. Her presence is barely noticed, not even when she closes the door after the room has emptied, your eyes fixed on the adorable wrapping, the colorful patterns and the generic but cute note wishing Happy Easter.
"Kitten..." she calls for the third time, worried "Is everything all right?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was over the moon." you try to pull yourself together, compressing lips and bringing fingers to the corners of eyes, wiping your face "Hungry?"
"Just of you." Ava whispers seductively and takes two steps forward, standing inches away to steal a quick kiss "Now tell me what happened or I'll tickle the hell out of you." it's the kind of affectionate threat that doesn't make you laugh this time, it's a difficult topic to talk about, but maybe that's the time.
"Well, there's a reason I never tell holiday stories or have great comments for yours, I..." tears are there again, stronger and warmer, you take the candy to heart in search of comfort, the woman keeps quiet listening attentively "I never had any of that, my parents never gave a damn and I wasn't a demanding child."
"That?"
"Coins from the tooth fairy, nice dinners, Christmas trees, gifts and..." the Easter egg is raised with a certain pride, finally giving in to crying, tears of sadness and happiness mixing together "This! It's my first!" you finally admits, feeling a little childish at the thrill and excitement of something so small for an adult.
"Your first?" she is genuinely confused, staring at the simple candy, which for her has no great significance, then the realization of the fact hits her hard "Really?"
"Yes, one of my students just gave it to me." you whisper, feeling the tears wanting to come back again and a tight feeling in chest "I know, it's silly..."
"No, it's not, it's never silly, especially if it's something important to you." the woman responds quickly, wrapping arms around your trembling body and puts your head against her soft breasts, it's an intimate and comforting act "And if I'd known before, I'd have been the first person to give you a chocolate. And decorated the house last Christmas. Or better, I would have taken you to New York. I guess I just wouldn't have had a solution for the tooth fairy... but there are ideas on how to make up for it."
"God, you're the best girlfriend ever."
"Of course I am." Ava kisses your forehead and takes advantage of the position to slip her fingers under your shirt, lightly tickling the sensitive spots "So much so that I ordered tarts from that new store you mentioned last week."
She holds up the cardboard bag with the pretty logo and half a dozen tarts in various flavors. A delicious dessert for a pleasant shared lunch, which has become routine, a moment of peace to enjoy each other's presence in the busy and chaotic routine that is working in childhood education.
With a bag full of art supplies and a pile of exam papers in hand, you enter the apartment, struggling not to knock everything off the improvised jenga. Usually you would have the help of the tallest one, those long arms look so sexy carrying boxes full of children's books and covered in glitter, but after all that sugar and dough, she had to go home early with an stomach bug. Of course, in her pile there are one or two medicines and tea for her.
"Darling?" home is strangely dark, silent and there's no sign of your partner's vibrant personality "Ava? Are you feeling better?" you ask, starting to get worried, hurrying to turn on the light switches.
When the light turns on, you find yourself with one foot on what looks like a rabbit's footprint glued to the wood floor. Then another next to it, followed by another and another, the bags are abandoned at the entrance and the door closed. Step by step you reach the coat closet, where a chocolate bar is placed next to a card with the words "Our love is sweet as the place we started the day together... or as your coffee." handwritten in impeccable calligraphy. It makes you smile lovingly, she always jokes about the amount of cream you put in the liquid as you get ready for the morning, only to steal some of it with kisses. The fun mugs, perhaps one of the first things you bought when decided to move in together, hold truffles and the next tip. Seven cards later, almost every room explored and your arm full of candies, you finally reach the last place with the tip "No matter where we are, as long as we're together, we've found our home." and it's obvious that it's the master bedroom, where you love each other, talk about your days and plan the future, where you can strip away the burdens of everyday life and forget about the world.
"Do you like it, kitten?" the woman asks, coming up behind as soon as you open the door.
In the middle of the bed, there's a huge Easter basket of chocolates, from simple chocolate bars to decorated boxes of handmade truffles, with colorful wrapping and a giant bow, next to a big stuffed bunny, one of those fluffy ones that are too cute to resist hugging. A Happy Easter banner has been placed above the headboard and when turn around you let out a laugh when notice that the principal is wearing a fuzzy bunny ears, one up and the other down, a cute made-up nose.
"Welcome back, little baby!" she wraps her arms around waist and lifts you into the air, capturing your lips as she spins around.
"You... You did all this for me? Aw, that's so sweet and thoughtful."
"And all yours, I wanted to make your first official Easter something special." Ava puts you down and picks up a second bunny ear from the shelf, carefully placing it on your head "My cutie..."
"I'm literally speechless, all I can think about is how amazing you are."
"I know!" she jokes and leans in to give you another kiss "Sweetheart, you're a wonderful person and I'm sorry you didn't have any of these moments, but know that I'm going to make each of these dates unforgettable and unique, something of ours."
You stare at her in shock and feel your eyes sting, tears gathering at the edges of eyes, it's hard to control. This was the first surprise you've ever received in your life and certainly the best of all, every detail was thought of, planned and made especially for you, as well as the romantic touch she gave to every little and big gift.
"You don't have to do that..." you whisper, voice breaking with emotion, "I... You already do so much for me."
"I haven't even done half of what I want to do for you." your girlfriend smiles tenderly, her hand sliding gently across your cheek "You deserve the world and I'm going to do my best to give it to you."
"I don't even know how to thank you for everything." a feeling of being silly comes over you again, but it's quickly gone when you see the passionate smile on her plump lips "It's more than I could have dreamed of."
"You don't have to be thankful, baby, just enjoy it." she replies, lifting you onto her lap and standing face to face "Or enjoy it while you thank me."
Ava is funny and suggestive, walking slowly over to the bed, sitting there with you on her lap, surrounded by the candies and the cheerful decoration. She brings a hand up to yours, intertwining her fingers with yours. The comfortable silence is broken only by the soft sound of breathing and happy giggles.
"Shall we eat some chocolate and then watch a movie?" the woman asks, squeezing you a little tighter against her "We have the whole weekend to ourselves."
All you can do is nod, leaning in again to give her a kiss, this time slow and passionate, full of tenderness. She moans feeling your fingers tangle in the black strands, pulling her towards you and deepening the contact.
"I love you, baby." you whisper against her lips, knocking into the soft mattress.
"No more than I love you, kitten. You have no idea."
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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months
Note
Horror movie night with Miles G? Maybe they decide to skip out trick or treating and have a night inside watching scary movies eating candy and cuddling on the couch
horror movies with miles g!
You sighed as the crack of thunder sounded outside your window to accompany the pouring rain. It was pitch-black outside now, the only thing illuminating the heavy raindrops being streetlamps.
Your costume hung from the back of the couch you were sitting on, soaked through from running back home without an umbrella. Served you right for not checking the weather.
The bathroom door squeaked as it swung open.
"So, you got a backup plan for tonight?" Miles asked as he stepped out in his PJs, wet t-shirt and jeans in-hand.
"Nope, that was the only plan," you replied. "At least we got to Aunt May before the rain started up."
Miles turned to look at the two pumpkin-shaped bucketfuls of candy sitting on the coffee table and laughed, "Right? Shit'll last us 'till Thanksgiving!"
He hopped onto the couch with you, sitting with his legs cris-crossed. Grabbing the remote, he switched the TV settings to Roku before turning to you. "Netflix or Hulu?"
Your eyes narrowed. "You seem awfully happy."
"If I recall correctly, you were the one that wanted to go trick-or-treating, and I went because your momma wouldn't let you out the house unless I came with. Do I have that right?"
Miles leaned toward you with a grin, eyebrow raised. Your rolled your eyes.
"...Correct."
"Alright then. With that bein' said...Netflix or Hulu?"
"Relax, mister. Hulu," you answered, leaning on Miles' shoulder. "I wanna watch a horror film."
He grabbed the blanket that was always on stand-by for movie nights and draped it over the both of you before scrolling through the available options.
"Ooh, that one's my favorite."
Miles turned his head to look at you, unimpressed. "The clown movie?"
"What's wrong with 'It'?"
Your lips had pulled into a pout with your brows knitted together. The face you made when you were in the mood to argue. He sighed and selected the film.
"...Nothing, you got it. Hand me one of them Kit-Kat bars."
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darling-i-read-it · 1 year
Text
System
Dalton Lambert x fem!reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: set after insidious the red door so spoilers for that, the readers scared daltons wandered off again 
Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long love! I’ve been a bit everywhere lately but I was finally happy with this. Also my spell check is being hella weird so if there’s some misspelled things just ignore it lol. I hope you enjoy!
Requested: by anon, hi i literally just got home from the insidious movie with my friend, but i was wondering if you are taking requests, if not feel free to ignore! but i was wondering if you’d be able to do a dalton x reader where they maybe meet his family? and he has an episode during it and gets stuck in the further and reader has to try and coax him out of it? or he has an episode and comes out of it in a panic attack like state and reader helps him through it and his family is in shock that dalton lets her see him like that. they think its really sweet that she can help him through it and everything.
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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Thanksgiving break. You could fear the cold in the air as people talked lightly going down to their cars, happy to leave school behind for a couple days of rest. Dalton threw his bag over his shoulder, watching you watch the window. The leaves were falling onto the street, whisked away by the gentle wind. You could see people’s silent laughter through the glass. 
“You ready?” Dalton’s voice broke you out of your trance. You nodded once, pulling your bag up over your head as well. It just had some clothes and your laptop, plus chargers. You hadn’t been expecting to go back for Thanksgiving with your heavy workload. 
“Your dads here?” 
“Yeah, pulling up outside.” You turned back to the window like you could locate him. Dalton grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. You followed him outside of his dorm room. He shut and locked it behind him before leading you down the stairs among the stragglers of people leaving for break. 
You had never seen the parking lot so crowded. 
Dalton put his phone to his ear, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You followed him blindly. 
“Near the flag poles isn’t an instruction dad,” Dalton said, voice annoyed. You looked around, trying to place the car. You didn’t actually know what he was driving but you knew Mr.Lambert’s face. “There are a ton of flag polls.” Your eyes scanned the area. “Are you talking about the one with the school flag?” You sat Josh Lambert, standing outside of his car with the door opened. You hit Dalton and pointed. He followed your gaze. Dalton hung up the phone and guided your way through the parking lot. 
Mr. Lambert smiled when he saw you both. He pointed beside him, where an American flag was posted between some trees. 
“It was the only thing near me,” he explained. 
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered your hand to shake. 
“You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot.” Josh shook your head. 
“Thank you for letting me stay over the break. My family is so far away and getting a plane ticket in this weather has never been good odds.” Josh’s smile was genuine and kind. You had only met him over the phone but Dalton had mostly assured you of his normalcy. After the whole flying away possessed by demon thing, you understood that Josh also had issues with staying in his head. You felt for him. 
“Oh of course. Any friend of Dalton’s is a friend of ours.” Josh winced, trying to find the right words. “It’s a pleasure.” 
“That’s good dad.” Dalton took your backpack. You smiled gently, trying to let him know you understood what he was trying to give off. “This is gonna be a long drive.”
-
Josh asked you plenty of questions, happy that someone in his car actually answered him. You didn’t mind chatting. It was a couple hours after all. Before you were there, Dalton couldn’t exactly shut out and put his headphones in. Still, he sat behind you, sketch book out, half listening. 
Eventually you came to his and his moms home. It was nice and large, almost secluded but not quite. You didn’t peg Dalton for a large house kind of guy but the second his mom opened the door, it all clicked into place. 
Josh had started recently living with Renai again, much to Dalton’s surprise. He didn’t talk about it often, only in passing. You were able to pick up bits and pieces from everyone’s body language but that was about it. 
Renai had Josh take your bags. 
“Thank you so much Mrs. Lambert for letting me stay,” you said hurridly as she ushered you inside. She smiled, so brightly it hurt. She looked just like Dalton’s pictures of her. Goregous and kind. 
“Renai, please. Dalton go take those upstairs.” 
“Are we allowed to sleep in the same room?” Dalton asked, teasingly. 
“You can sleep in the guest room,” she said, ushering him away. She turned to you. Dalton walked up the stairs, followed closely by his father and your bags. “It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N.” 
“And you! I’ve heard so much, seen your face on a lot of different sketches,” you joked. Her smile remained, dripping in generosity but not so much it made you uncomfortable. You felt instantly comfortable in the house. 
“I’m sure you’ve become the new muse,” she joked. 
“He’s extremely talented. He could make a tree look interesting.” 
“Don’t say it to him, it’ll go straight to his head.” Renai would sometimes call you when she was worried about Dalton. After the demon event she grew more worried about having him out of the house. You became her eyes and ears, which she was eternally grateful for. 
There was a childlike commotion upstairs. You both turned to see a little girl barreling down, her hand loosely holding the railing. Once she hit the bottom she halted. Dalton was following close behind her and behind him was another teen boy, though younger than Dalton. It was easy to guess the names. 
“Oh shit D,” Foster mumbled. Dalton hit him. 
“Are you Y/N?” Kali asked. You nodded. 
“And you must be Kali! It’s very nice to meet you.” She smiled, ogling. You grew self conscious under everyone's gaze. Dalton pushed through his siblings to get to you. 
“Hey, go get your own person to stare at.” He grabbed your hand. “C’mon, I wanna show you my room.” 
“No funny business,” Josh said as he came down the stairs. “Keep that door open.” 
“He doesn’t bring girls home often,” Renai explained. 
“Mom,” Dalton seethed. You laughed as he tugged at your arm. You followed him up the stairs. 
“It was nice to meet all of you!” you called, your arm half way out of it’s socket. You observed the place as you walked, glancing at the family photos on the wall. At some point they started to lack Josh completely. “You’re were so cute,” you cooed at one of the photos. “What happened?” 
“Woah there.” You laughed as you finally landed upon his room. It was a normal teenage boys bedroom but cleaner. You wondered if Renai had cleaned when Dalton left. There was art supplies still scattered on the desks and some laying on his made bed. Your bags were put off to the side, next to his. 
“I see you have no intention of posting up in the guest bedroom?” 
“Oh no,” he said. “My mom’s a lightweight and will be in bed by nine.” There was countless pictures on the wall. Some were painted, some where with ink, some with just pencil. It was like a whole other gallery. “I have a couple new ones to add up there.” 
“Oh yeah?” You turned back to him. He was grabbing his sketchbook out of his bag. He turned it open to the one he was working on in the car. It was a back view of his dad and you talking. Josh was mid word but you were smiling, watching intently. “Is that why you weren’t talking with us?” 
“I don’t like my dads taste in music.” You grinned warmly. 
“I love it. Like I love all your stuff.” He carefully went to tear it out and you moved to get some things out of your bag. 
-
You had dinner, courtesy of Renai, and quickly turned in. Dalton made a big show of going to bed in the guest bedroom, rolling his eyes and pretending to pout. You cuddled into his bed, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to come back. Your eyes drooped. It had been a long day, filled with new things. Dalton’s bed was way more comfortable then the dorm room bed and far bigger too. 
At 10 you heard the door open slowly. You turned on your side and smiled sleepily at Dalton walking in. He ran his hands through his hair, shutting the door quietly behind him. He climbed under the sheets beside you. You moved over to make room but the bed was big enough where it almost didn’t matter. 
“Bigger than the dorm room bed huh?” he questioned. You usually had to squeeze together. You got very used to being on top of each other. 
“Just a lil.” 
He dipped his head over you, kissing you gently. Your body eased into his touch. His lips were lazy and sleepy, also fueled by the long day. He moved away after a moment and layed his head down next to you. 
“Tease,” you joked. 
“My mother is in the next room.” 
“No more kisses then.” 
He scoffed and the two of you got comfortable, his arm under your head, your cheek against his chest. The window was creaked open, the sound of the suburbs floating into your ears as you drifted off. 
-
You woke up with a start. There was an echo of a noise but you were still half asleep and couldn’t pinpoint it. You sat up, glancing down at Dalton. He laid on his back, eyes shut. You looked around the dark room. You didn’t know it’s curves well enough to know what had changed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to decide if you were still asleep or not. 
Through your shadowy perception, you saw the door creak open. It was slow but the movement struck home. You turned to Dalton and nudged him. He didn’t move. You nudged him again, harder this time. He stayed completely still, the only indication he was alive from his breathing. 
“Dalton,” you muttered. You shoved him again, almost knocking him off the bed. 
Nothing.
Fear shone in the lights of your eyes. You sat up completely and turned on the lamp beside your bed. You took a deep breath. You had done this before. You could do it agian. Dalton and you had talked about what you could do when this happened. He assured you that, while he likely couldn’t get possessed by that same demon, there was no guarentee he couldn’t drift off. 
You cleared your throat and set your shoulders back. 
“Dalton can you hear me?” Your voice was loud and clear. It needed to project if he was gonna hear you. You took clear breaths in, counting and then releasing. “Dalton, baby, you’ve gone to far.” 
You glanced back at the door. Had he left? Was that him coming back in? How long had be been out? 
“Dalton, listen to me. Follow my voice.” 
With each passing tick of the clock you got more anxious. You wondered if you were too late. Your breathing became more labored as you sat there, starring at his face, begging it to move. “Dalton.” 
You knew shaking him did no good but you did it anyway. 
Renai could hear your speaking in the other room. Despite what Dalton said, she was also easy to rise. She had gotten into the habit when Kali was a baby, always able to easily identify her childrens voices. She knew it was yours immediately. She nudged Josh, who woke up after a couple pushes. 
They listened for a moment, making sure they weren’t going to enter some sort of scene they would never be able to unsee. But then your voice came again. 
“Dalton, follow my voice. I’m right here.” Renai knew the script well. It sent shivers down her spine to hear someone else say it. She quickly moved the covers aside and padded down the hallway to Dalton’s open door. She stood in the frame, Josh behind her. You were turned away, looking down, sitting practically on top of Dalton. Your voice, though stressed, was soothing. 
“Dalton I’m right here. Come back to me.” Renai was about to jump forward and start helping when Dalton sat up straight. He hit your head with his because he was moving so fast. You both groaned in pain.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, grabbing your cheeks. “Are you okay? Did I bruise you?” 
“No, no I’m okay,” you breathed. You let out a hefty sigh of relief. “Are you okay? You scared me!” 
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” he promised. “Followed your voice.” 
“Everything okay?” Josh asked. You both turned on a dime. You almost fell off the bed with the speed you were trying to get off Dalton. He still had his hand on your cheek and it fell just as quickly as he had put it there. 
“Yeah we’re fine.”
“Totally okay!” 
Your voices overlapped into a scrambled mess. 
“You’re still floating away?” Renai asked. She hadn’t heard anything about that. Josh was still grounded, as far as she knew. Dalton shook his head. 
“Not often,” he promised. “I think being back home triggered something.” He rubbed his eyes. “But I’m fine. We have a system.” 
“Yeah, just in case. I can usually tell because he starts to move things around when I’m sleeping,” you explained. “The door usually opens.” Renai nodded. She parted her lips, the fear dissipating. You had it handled. 
She was impressed. 
“Is that why you’re in the same bed then?” she questioned, eyebrow raised. Dalton rolled his eyes but you had the heart to laugh. 
“Sure mom.” Her gaze lingered. 
“You sure you’re alright? Do I need to quiz you on something?” she asked. 
“I’m fine,” Dalton promised. “No demons here.” 
“None over here either,” Josh promised. Renai scoffed. 
“Good to know.” She turned back towards the two of you. “It’s late. Get some sleep and stay in your shoes okay?” Dalton nodded quickly. She left the door wide open as she turned to leave but not after giving you one last look. 
“We could’ve used a system,” Josh mumbled. 
“Maybe we should get one,” Renai concluded. 
You turned back towards Dalton. 
“She let you stay.” 
“Yeah well, I think that was the astral projecting.” You laughed a bit. You were still reeling from the fear, even though you were trying not to show it. 
“Wanna grab a midnight snake or something? Just to shake off the demons?” He smiled, thinking of kissing you in his kitchen, the privacy something he wasn’t used to.
“I would love to.” 
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sammysficfactory · 10 months
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Check That
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eren yeager x black!femreader
summary: sometimes when family crosses boundaries, you have to remind them of their place. my excuse to write thanksgiving clapbacks
wc: ~0.5k
tags: fluff, comedy
warnings: mentions of food
notes: happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!, school is whooping me sorry i haven’t been posting often😭, beta read, inspired by those tiktoks, mostly centered around the reader, i feel like i’m just yapping in this👎🏾, feedback is welcome
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Every year. You don’t even know why you come to your grandmother’s house every thanksgiving just to deal with your hypocritical family. You wish you would’ve just gone over Eren’s family’s house instead. Your leg bounces and Eren rubs your knee comfortingly.
“Y/N, why do you sneak off on us every other holiday? We are your family, you shouldn’t avoid us like that.” An aunt not-so-secretly judges you, her southern drawl making it all the more demeaning, but this year you came prepared.
“The same reason the repo man snuck off with that busted Nissan of yours.” You reply nonchalantly, causing your boyfriend to choke on his greens before covering it up by taking a sip of his water. Quiet snickers are heard across the large rectangular table as you continue to eat.
“Still ain’t got the car back yet either.” Your mother says under her breath, but loud enough for you and Eren to hear. You smirk, trying to keep yourself from laughing. You appreciate the fact that your parents have always had your back when you needed it.
That seemed to be enough to keep your aunt quiet for a good while. You bask in the warmhearted laughs and conversation now that your shady aunt has nothing more to say. The comfort of family is beginning to melt all the stress of your daily life away. That is until your aunt Jackie’s daughter Destiny decides to chime in on the topic of marriage. She’s been giving Eren bedroom eyes the entire evening.
“So cuz, this is the first time you brought Eren over for a family dinner. Are y’all a serious thing?” She twirls her fork in the spaghetti on her plate, making doe eyes at Eren that causes him to screw his face up slightly.
“Eren and I are just as serious as your fraud charges. Thank you for your concern, can you pass the yams?” You reply, rolling your eyes and feeling annoyed all over again. Your knee bounces a bit more intensely and just like always, Eren is right there to soothe you. He rubs your knee and places a kiss on your cheek for good measure. You exhale heavily, doing your best to keep yourself in check.
A few hours later with no further incidents, you and Eren say your goodbyes and leave out the door. You get in the passenger seat and let out a heavy and exhausted sigh. Eren turns your head towards him gently, just two fingers on your jaw and chin. He places a long, soft, and loving kiss on your lips.
“You did good today, I thought we were gonna have to get it poppin’ on thanksgiving.” He jokes, resulting in a chuckle coming from you. His eyes seem to glow a little when he sees you smile, a satisfied look on his face.
“There she is, there’s my lady.” He almost coos at you, his voice is just as soothing and warm as the smile on his face before he brings you in for another kiss. The two of you pull away slowly, taking some time just to stare at each other and decompress together.
The two of you make it home with plastic bags of takeaway containers in tow, setting them on the table before separating them into what the two of you would eat on your own, and what you would share. Ultimately stuffed, you and Eren lay on the couch tangled in each other’s limbs watching Charlie Brown movies.
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