#best hangover pills

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Fake Boyfriend - p2

Pairings - soft!Rafe Cameron x virgin! Fem reader

Summary - You lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.

Warnings - none

Part one if you missed it

You're aroused from your sleep by the piercing bright light seeping through the curtains, hitting you directly between the eyes. You let out a groan and press your face into the pillow, it feels as though you're on a boat. Your stomach churns as your brain sways within your skull. “Jesus” you mumble, pushing yourself up from the bed slightly.

Panic sets in when you don’t recognise anything in the room, your hands flying under the cover to check you were still clothed.

“God you move a lot for someone with a hangover” a voice grumbles beside you, you sit up so fast your stomach lurches and the growing headache pounds behind your eyes. “Here”.

Your eyes fall to Rafe, he lay next to you, still dressed in the clothes from last night. He has 2 pills in the palm of his hand and a bottle of water, you accept gratefully and lay back down.

Silence falls over the two of you only to be interrupted with his phone ringing, he ignores it and sits up to look at you. “I’m sorry about yesterday, my friend wouldn’t shut up about me not having a boyfriend. The lie just slipped” you speak, he nods his head but stays silent. Your eyes wander over his face trying to pick up on an emotion but it’s unreadable, his blue eyes stare back at you.

“Never had a boyfriend huh?” He smirks, his left eyebrow raises in question. Redness spreads across your cheeks, spinning your body until it hides under the blanket. “So does that mean..”.

“Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing” you exclaim, you feel sick to the stomach. Thankfully you're both pulled away when his phone rings for the second time, he answers it with a huff and pulls himself from the bed.

You peek your head out of the blanket and watch him close the bathroom door behind him, you take this moment to step out of bed. Wobbling slightly on the plush carpet, thankfully the nausea had subsided and you were just left with a headache.

You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and made a dash for it, no way were you going to wait for him knowing he had follow up questions.

You're so close to the front door when Kelsie rounds the corner, she throws her arms around you in delight. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, didn’t want to wake you up myself in case I walked in on something” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You nervously laughed, you probably shouldn’t let her think you were having sex. You know she’d ask for details later and you weren’t sure you could lie about that.

“Hey!” She exclaims, waving behind you. You turn to see Rafe walking towards you with a smirk on his lips, looking away quickly you nudge your friend towards the door. “We should get going” you mumble, gripping her bicep roughly. She shakes her head though just as Rafe’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he brings your back flush against his front.

Your body tingles, well aware that your bum was pressed against where his cock was tucked away. “You can’t leave yet babe, have coffee first”.

Your breath catches in your throat from the nickname, your limbs feel like jelly as you let him push you towards the kitchen. He maneuvers around the kitchen effortlessly and in silence, Kelsie sits on the stool watching him get the coffee machine ready, he turns to look at you and holds out a mug. “Thanks” you manage a smile and step over to help him, he looks down at you for a split second and then over at Kelsie who is tapping on her phone.

“Play along” he whispers, your eyes go wide when his thumb and forefinger trap your chin. Tilting your head up so he can duck down and kiss you.

You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that are let loose in your stomach, your fingers grip the front of his white shirt. His hand pulls you in by your waist, you're trying to remind yourself this is fake. He’s just helping you out, helping you put on a show for your best friend.

“Gross! You’ve been doing god knows what all morning, let me get to know your boyfriend y/n” Kelsie cringes from her seat, dramatically covering her eyes in disgust. But the curve of her lips shows how damn excited she was for you. “What do you want to know?” Rafe questions, placing a mug down in front of her and then handing you yours.

“Everything! How long have you guys been together first?” Her eyes move between the two of you, your mouth opens but no words follow. Slamming your lips closed quickly before she notices. “Only 3 weeks, I’ve known about y/n since she came to the island 2 years ago. Just never had the courage to speak to her”.

Your brows crease together In the middle, was what he was saying true? If it wasn’t, how did he know you moved here 2 years ago?.

“That’s so sweet! Oh y/n I’m so damn happy for you! Anyway you gave me all the goss last night about the two of you, so Rafe what do you do for work?”

You sit in silence while your best friend interrogates Rafe Cameron, you hang onto every last word of his. Making mental notes about everything he was saying, you didn’t know much about Rafe Cameron.

You just knew he was rich and practically owned half the island, you heard a few things about problems with drugs when he was younger but that he got clean. He didn’t bring any of that up though and of course why would he, this whole situation was just to help you out.

“You got yourself a good one y/n! You better keep good care of her, I leave in a few days and I need to know my bestie is well looked after” she says but wiggles her eyebrows at the last part, nudging you in the ribs. You laugh with her and give him a tight smile.

“Of course, I’ll take real good care of her” he winks at you and you're so grateful for the chair that kept you from falling to the ground, one simple movement from him and you were weak at the knees. “Anyway we should get going, I promised you a trip to Charleston” you said, you made your way to the sink to wash the mug but large hands stop you as you reach for the cloth. “I got it”.

“Oh yes! I’m so excited, okay let’s go! Will see you later, yeah Rafe?” You suppress a groan, squeezing your eyes shut at your insistent friend. You open your mouth to tell her he’s got plans with friends but he’s agreeing with her and saying he’ll see you both later.

“I’ll let you say goodbye in private” she winks, skipping around the corner. When you hear the front door lock you turn to him, he’s staring at you again with his bright blue eyes.

“Thank you so much for playing along and helping me out but honestly I’ll tell her you have plans, she’ll be gone in a few days and we can pretend none of this happened”. You state, he doesn’t move from his spot or acknowledge what you’ve said for a few moments, you stare in silence.

“I’ll play your fake boyfriend y/n” he says, placing his mug into the sink and stepping towards you. “You really don’t need to, I’m apparently really good at lying” you reply, you give him an awkward thank you hug and dart out the door.

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, rushing towards the Uber waiting for you. You couldn’t believe you had gotten away with it, one little lie worked and now you no longer had your best friend in your ear about finding a man.

The two of you went home to shower and change, spending your day over in Charleston. Showing Kelsie around the town and shopping. Your feet were on fire by the time you stepped through your front door, you dropped your bags to the floor. “I need to lay down!” You announce, walking straight to your bedroom and dropping onto the bed.

You must have passed out because you're waking up in a dark room, your shoes have been taken off and a blanket draped over you. Your ears prick up to the sound of music, what was Kelsie doing?

You threw the blanket off you and stepped into your bathroom, you grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned up the mascara that had smudged under your eyes. Racking a comb through your hair and stepping back out of the bathroom.

The moment you open your bedroom door you are hit with loud music and the smell of tequila, you follow the noise towards the living room. “There she is!” Your best friend screams, she comes charging at you wrapping her arms around your neck.

Your eyes land on Rafe who sits on the one seater velvet chair, legs spread wide. He sends a smirk your way and raises his glass as a hello. “What is happening?” You question, noticing Rafe’s friends lounge on the couch and your friends looking at you in confusion. Oh god.

Your lie was about to unravel, you hadn’t thought about Kelsie meeting them. “I grabbed your phone while you were sleeping and organized a little get together! But you missy need to stop deleting messages it was very hard to figure out who your friends where”.

You were more concerned about how she got Rafes number, it would have been suspicious for you not to have messages with him. “Luckily everyone was saved in your favorites” she says handing you your phone, when she isn’t looking you search your phone. Rafes name pops up under favorite number 1, he must have put it in there last night? He was a lot better at this fake dating than you had expected.

“Hi” his voice whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your neck sending familiar shivers down your spine. His fingers dance around your hip stopping at your stomach, flattening his hand against you he pulled you back against him. “Hey” you managed, you say, he could tell you were flustered from the pink creeping up your neck until it made home on the apple of your cheeks. “You were asleep when she texted, I’m not as good of a liar as you” he joked, his eyes looking behind you for a moment and then his lips were on yours. You had now been kissed by 3 boys in your our lifetime, his lips were your favorite so far.

“Get a room!” Kelsie shouted, she poured tequila into shot glasses and began passing them around. “Let’s get this party started!”.

An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach, Kelsie never usually drank this much when she was around you. She knew you weren’t much of a drinker, especially since your dad was an alcoholic.

You stared down at the shot in your hand, you really didn’t want to drink tonight. Before you could even bring it to your lips Rafe was swapping his empty shot glass with yours and throwing it back. “You didn’t have to do that” you whispered, his hand still laying upon your stomach. You could feel him breathing against your back. “You didn’t want it”.

He gives you another soft smile and looks back at everyone in the room, Kelsie has turned the music up louder and pulled everyone into the middle of the lounge. “I just need to talk to my friends quickly” he nods his head and drops his hand from you. He watched you make your way to your friends and took a seat back on the seat he once occupied.

“Girl! You didn’t tell us you were seeing Rafe!” Sam exclaimed, she was in pure shock. Your three outer banks friends had lived here all their lives, they had known Rafe since school. “I’m sorry, it’s so recent I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet”.

“That’s okay, totally understand! It’s Rafe Cameron for crying out loud, I never thought I’d see the day he settles down” Grace says, she looks over at Rafe who is still watching you. They send him a smile and look back at you, an uneasy feeling in your stomach again.

“Yeah who knew” you laughed, you stood with them for a bit longer until the feeling of his eyes on you made you squirm. Walking back over to him, he pulled you to sit on his lap.

Your legs sat between his open ones, body nuzzled into his side. His arm around your shoulder, it was surprisingly comfortable and not weird. “We should probably discuss this fake boyfriend thing” he whisperedMy, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You really don’t have to pretend after today”.

He chuckles and moves in his seat a little bit, your thighs rubbing against his groin. The redness once again painted on your cheeks. “You underestimate your friend”.

You look over at Kelsie who’s dancing away with Topper, both of them look like they escaped the mental hospital.

“You might be right” you agreed, unsure why you feel so content against him. You’d sat on boys' laps before and cuddled, it usually made you feel uncomfortable and you’d run off before they got the wrong idea.

“She's here for 3 days, so if you were possibly free over the next few days I’d be forever in your debt” you say, turning slightly to look up at him. He tilts his chin to look down at you, something flashes behind his eyes but you can’t quite place what it is. His smile is intoxicating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the perfectly straight teeth could kill me. “I can be free BUT I need a favour from you”.

“Yeah?” Your heart beats a bit faster and harder in your chest, what could Rafe Cameron possibly want from you? “I’ll need you to come to an event, I need a plus one”.

“Oh sure thing” you answer a bit too quickly, earning a smirk from the man under you. “Let’s talk about rules then?”

“Rules?”

“Yeah, you’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by doing anything you don’t want” he states, his tone is serious and his smile has vanished. “Oh” is all you manage to say to him, he moves again sitting up more straight so you both face each other.

“If I touch you anywhere you don’t like or want, or if I kiss you and you don’t want it, you just tell me. I won’t be hurt”

You nod your head, his hand cups your face and his lips touch yours for only a brief moment. “Sorry… they were watching”.

You turn your head and every snap their head back to what they were doing, a soft chuckle leaves your mouth and you look back at Rafe.

“Okay, and if you're busy or no longer want to be my fake boyfriend you just tell me. No hard feelings”

“Okay”

“Shall we kiss on it?”

You're the one to press your lips to his this time, it’s not quick like the last one. It’s more intense, his tongue snakes between your lips and you're moving in sync. This was a lot better than any of the other kisses you shared with someone.

“Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show”.

“Right” you breath, clearing the back of your throat and laying against him again. Was it normal to enjoy a kiss from a fake boyfriend that much?

Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting

Part 3

[cherryobx]

Today

a/n: part 2 of this fic, can be read on its own!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: the morning after getting drunk and trying to kiss your best friend the previous night

warnings: language, one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of getting drunk, being hangover and nausea (but no detailed descriptions)

wc: 1.5k

The sun shines directly into your eyes through the windows of your bedroom and forces you awake. It’s almost painful. You get up to pull down the blinds to make the room dark and being in there bearable. 

You fall back into bed and bury your face in the numerous pillows propped up against the headboard, regretting drinking last night. The headache and nausea are bad but you’ve definitely experienced worse. You’ll live.

You reach for your phone which you usually place on the nightstand for the night, but it isn’t there. Lifting your head from the pillows you squint in confusion. There’s a water bottle, an Advil pill and a piece of paper there instead.

Sitting up, you grab the note first. Rafe’s neat handwriting fills the sticky note.

Had to go home for a sec. I’ll come by later. Make that hangover your bitch. - R

Right, he stayed the night. You smile at that and place it back down on the nightstand before popping the Advil into your mouth and downing almost the entire bottle of water in one go.

Memories from the previous night slowly start flooding in. Best friend’s birthday party. Too much alcohol. Hot tub. Phone ruined by said hot tub. Rafe taking you home. Begging Rafe to kiss you.

Oh my God. You asked your best friend to kiss you while drunk. That is so embarrassing. Even though it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for a while now. You weren’t planning on spilling your feelings to him while drunk like this. How can you look him in the eye when he comes by later knowing that you tried to pursue him romantically last night?

The hangover is now battling with your nerves and it’s not a very good combination. In an attempt to feel like a human again, you get up from bed, brush your teeth, fix your hair as much as possible and remove the makeup from last night and finally change into something other than your pyjamas.

Even those little mundane tasks are a bit difficult as your head spun and pounded simultaneously. You lay back in your bed to catch your breath but drift off instead.

Rafe keeps his word and comes over sometime in the afternoon, after a trip to the nearest technology store and buying you a new phone just like he had promised.

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you up from your slumber.

“Oh, hey.” You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

Rafe is sitting on the edge of your bed and it’s giving you flashbacks from last night when you two were sitting just like this. But this time the air is different. There’s something unspoken between you two.

He gives you a once over before shoving a small box into your hands. Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap and see a brand new phone in them. It’s the newer model of your previous one and you know for a fact it’s expensive.

“You didn’t.” Disbelief and shock are evident in your tone of voice. 

“I told you I would.” He seems almost proud of himself.

You scoff. “Asshole. I can’t accept this. Take it back.” You attempt to give it back to him but he pulls his hands away and holds them in the air, refusing to take it.

“No. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it,” you rebut but it’s no use. He refuses to take it back.

“You need it.”

“I could’ve bought one with my own money. I don’t want you spending so much on me. It’s insane, Rafe.”

“I don’t mind spending a little on you once in a while.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like this huge amount of money means nothing to him.

“A little? For fuck’s sake, Rafe, this is a thousand dollar phone! That is way too much.” Your voice is high pitched and desperate. You really can’t accept this. It’s too much. You feel bad for him spending such a sum on you.

“Is it? Don’t really care.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re impossible!” 

He chuckles. “You love me.”

“I’m about to whoop your fucking ass.”

“Kinky.” He smirks and lays down on his side, body propped up by his forearm and elbow.

You stare at the phone between your hands and then him. You know he won’t budge. Once Rafe has set his mind to something it’s impossible to change it. You also know he won’t take the phone back out of spite. If you don’t want something it’’s exactly what he’ll give you.

“Thank you,” you say, finally giving up. It’s impossible to convince him to take it back.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Your heart tightens at the nickname he uses. It’s not abnormal for him to use nicknames like this for you, but today it feels immensely different.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asks with a slightly worried tone.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve been too nauseous all morning.”

At that he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, taps a few buttons and then hands it to you. “Order something then.”

You look at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“Food, sweetheart. Order something. You need to eat,” he insists.

Your first thought is that it’s such a sweet gesture which shows your best friend really cares about you. The second one is that he’s about to spend even more money on you. And that you don’t like.

“Rafe.” 

He knows what this is about but refuses to let you argue in any way. “Shut up and get what you want.” 

You zip your lips and scroll on the app on his phone, looking through the options the restaurants offer and choosing what looks and feels the most appetising at the moment. You decide on just fries and chicken nuggets. Your usual hangover food pick. They somehow taste even better than they normally do when you’re battling a killer headache.

“Classic,” he chuckles as you hand him his phone back and he takes a look at what you chose.

He picks something for himself too and then presses the order button and pays for both of your food.

As you wait for the food to arrive, he offers to help you set up your new, extremely expensive, phone. He scoots next to you on the bed, both of you now sitting beside each other, backs against the headboard and your sides together, touching each other. Your skin tingles where it touches his and the feeling is almost addictive.

He taps away on the screen, focused on getting all your data over to this new phone but you just look at him, taking him in. He’s so into the task in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your soft eyes on him. How you look at him with adoration in your eyes and a tightness in your chest.

The familiar urge to kiss him from last night resurfaces. Didn’t he mention he wanted this too? You’re not sure. What if you remember incorrectly? What if your memory is lying to you or making his promises from last night up?

But the need is so strong and your mind is just telling you to go for it. Is this a bad idea? Too late.

Your hand reaches out before you stop yourself, before you can think twice about your actions. You must be still drunk from last night because where is this sudden courage coming from?

You place your hand on his chin and gently turn his head to face you. His face is full of curiosity and confusion.

“I’m sorry,” you say, apologising in advance for your actions because you don’t know what the aftermath of this will be. Leaning in, you place your lips on his which takes Rafe by surprise.

He’s taken aback for a second and pulls away to look at you. He’s searching your eyes for any hesitation or regret. When he doesn’t find a shred of them there, he drops your new phone from his hands, disregarding it somewhere in the sheets and grabbing your face with both of his hands and reuniting your lips once again, kissing you desperately. Like he needs it to breathe. Like he’s hungry and has been starving for months.

It’s feverish. You’re both satisfying a craving you’ve been trying to ignore for so long and all of those feelings are unleashed into that kiss. 

“Don’t ever fucking apologize for that again,” he says when you break apart to catch your breath. His forehead is resting against yours and it’s so intimate on so many levels you feel lightheaded.

You open your mouth, wholeheartedly intending to apologise again but he stops you in your tracks. A ‘shut up’ leaves his mouth before it’s on yours again, shutting you up very effectively. 

“Ass,” you mumble in between kisses.

“You kiss me with that mouth?” He fakes shock at your words.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and use his tactic to shut him up instead.

[l1tw1ck]

Newlyweds

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader

🕷️Word Count: 1,947🕷️

[Part One] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Menstruation (No Period Sex), Lingerie, Dom/Sub, Daddy Kink, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Impregnating, Mating Press, Lactation Mention, Praise Kink

Miguel wakes up with pain. A lot of pain. Along with discomfort and the familiar feeling and smell of blood. Of course he starts his period unexpectedly in your bed. Not only that but he has cramps and a hangover. Great way to start the morning. He hopes you at least have advil. He taps your shoulder and wakes you up.

“What's wrong?” You ask, noticing that it's still pretty early in the morning.

“I’m on my period.” He frowns. “Sorry…about your sheets.”

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault. Do you need anything? Food, meds, something hot?” You get out of the bed. Miguel shakily gets out as well.

“A shower would be nice…and some ibuprofen? Or advil?”

“No problem. Luckily for you, I have some pads or tampons you can use. I keep them for when family visits. Do you use a heating pad? I have one of those too.”

“Yeah, a heating pad would be helpful.” He nods. “I prefer pads.”

“Okay, go ahead and get in the shower, I’ll leave some clothes out for you to wear. Oh, and you’ll need to eat something too. Is there anything you prefer?”

“Whatever you can make is fine.”

“Alright, I'll get everything you need. Take as long as you want in the shower.”

.....

Miguel gets out of the shower and walks into your room. The bed is stripped and the bloody parts are being soaked in a cleaning mixture. He hopes he didn't ruin your mattress. He looks at the pair of boxers you left for him and frowns. It's no surprise that you don't have any panties, why would you? But wearing pads with boxers isn't very….safe. It's a good thing the two of you are neighbors, he’ll have to ask you to get him a pair of underwear. He pulls up the boxers half way and applies the pad, praying that it’ll do the job, and pulls it up completely. He puts on your shirt, happy that it's big on him, and puts on the pair of shorts.

He walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hey..”

“Hey! There’s the meds.” You point to the bottle of ibuprofen and cup of water next to it. “I’m making pancakes. How do you like ‘em?”

“With butter and syrup.” Miguel looks at the medicine bottle and concludes that he’ll thankfully only have to take one. He hates taking pain medication because of the risks but they're unbelievably helpful. He sighs, putting a pill in his mouth and swallowing it with water.

“...Hey, at least you're not pregnant yet.” You smile sheepishly.

Miguel chuckles. “We should probably start planning for when I actually am pregnant.”

“Yeah…I’ll have to start packing my things soon, right? I don't want Gabriella to have to worry about moving her stuff here.”

He appreciates how you consider his daughter too. “That’d be the best way.”

“At least we're neighbors, that’ll make the process much easier.”

“That reminds me…can you…can you go to my house and get me a pair of panties? They're specifically made for periods…I have a box of period stuff in my closet, you’ll know it when you see it. I’d go myself but-”

“Don't worry about it, babe. I’ll get it for you. After you eat, you can go lay down in the guest bedroom, I already put the heating pad in there. If you want, I’ll pick Gabi up and bring her here.”

“Please. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You kiss his forehead.

Gabi walks up to your car, confused. “Why are you picking me up?”

“Your dad’s feeling sick so he asked me to come get you.”

“Oh. Is papá okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. He’s just on his period.” You nod. “Come on, get in.”

Gabriella grimaces, feeling bad for her dad. She gets into the backseat and buckles her seatbelt.

“So…What do you think about coming to my place and eating dinner with me and your dad?”

Gabriella grins. “Are you gonna cook?”

“Of course! Whatever you want.”

“Then…Can you make burgers? I haven't had a burger in soo long! Papá sucks at cooking and he thinks fast food burgers are made of rat meat!”

You laugh. “Sure thing. What kind of burger? And do you want fries too? I can make ‘em from scratch.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? I love fries! And I really wanna try a bacon cheeseburger!”

“You got it, Gabi.”

“You’re so good at cooking! I wish Papà could cook like you.” Gabriella wipes her face clean.

“Hey! I can cook just fine, Gabi!”

“Then how come we had to order takeout the other night because you made green goop?”

“Green goop?” You look at Miguel, grinning.

“It was supposed to be green, okay?!”

“Mhm~” You hum in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe I need to save Gabi from your horrible cooking.”

“Please! You guys should get married. Then you can cook us dinner all the time!”

You look at Miguel.

Miguel looks at you and nods. “Well…Actually, mija…”

She looks at him curiously.

“We are getting married.” He can't hide his happiness.

Her entire face lights up. “Really?!” She puts her game down and stands up. “Am I really gonna get an hermanito now?!”

“Yes, mija.” Miguel chuckles.

“When are you gonna order them?!”

“...Order?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know, go to the stork postal service and order a baby!”

You and Miguel look at her, dumbfounded.

“What?” She frowns.

“Mija…We need to teach you where babies really come from..”

After the horrifying explanation (which was actually very tame compared to the talk Miguel’s parents gave him), Gabriella accepted the fact that babies are in fact not delivered by storks. Miguel doesn't even know where she got that from.

Now she's started to see you as the second father you’ll soon become. Rather than using your name, she calls you dad. It makes you happy to know she's so accepting of you as her father. She invites you to her soccer games and school events and of course you show up to everything you can. She loves that she has two parents. It's so comforting to see the two of you in the bleachers while she's playing. And now it's a lot less likely for her to be alone at events. If Miguel’s working, you usually show up and vice versa.

And of course she’ll be the maid of honor at your wedding. She’s almost more excited about the wedding than the two of you are.

Miguel walks down the aisle, holding a beautiful bouquet of red and blue roses. He looks gorgeous. You can't wait for your honeymoon.

He walks up to you and gets into place.

“You look beautiful.” You smile at him.

“Thank you..” He replies, bashful.

You’re lost in Miguel’s beauty for the entire ceremony, only paying attention to when it's time to exchange rings, say your vows, and say “I do.”

You go in to kiss Miguel, sad that you can only peck him on the lips. You don't want to traumatize all the children with a french kiss. You pick him up and carry him bridal style.

“Do you wanna stay?” You ask.

“I wanna make our baby.” He says.

You nod and start running towards the jet you rented. Everyone in the crowd watches in shock as you abandon the wedding. Miguel throws his bouquet and a ton of people scramble to grab it. Thankfully for you two, Gabriella is staying with her grandparents so you can escape to your honeymoon without worry.

Miguel walks out of the bathroom, dressed in a beautiful lingerie set. A red lacy bra and panties along with matching stockings with garters to hold them up.

You hurry over to him. “You look amazing.” You grope his ass and give him a soft kiss. “Lay down.”

Miguel gets onto the bed and lies down, waiting for your next move. You grab his thighs and kneel in front of the bed, pulling him close to you. There's a gap in his panties for easy access. You press kisses along his thighs, occasionally sucking and biting them. You move to his pussy, pressing a kiss against his erect t-dick. He twitches in response. You bring it into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.

“Fu- fuck–” He moans, curling his toes. He throws his head back and gasps as you start sucking him off while simultaneously slipping two of your fingers inside him. Miguel arches his back, moans getting increasingly louder as you finger him. “God yes–” He grins. “‘M gonna come-”

You pull away from him, still working his insides with your fingers. “What do you say, Miguel?”

“Pl- please~ please let me come, Daddy~”

“Good boy.” You go back to sucking on his dick. Miguel shakes as he squirts, drenching you in his pleasure. You lick up his slick before pulling away. “Tell me when you're ready.” You stand up and take your clothes off.

“I’m ready..” He moves backwards and spreads his folds with two of his fingers. “Please breed me, Daddy..”

You smirk. You climb onto the bed and align your length with his hole. Miguel watches intently as you slowly ease yourself inside him. The two of you watch as a bulge appears in his stomach the further you go in. “You're gorgeous, Miguel.” You run your hands up his body and grope his breasts. “You’ll let me get a taste once you start lactating, right?”

Miguel smiles. “Just a taste.”

You bring him into a deep kiss and inch yourself further inside him. Miguel gently moves his hips once he feels you bottom out, desperate to have you fuck him. You part from the kiss and move to his neck, lightly kissing his skin. “I love you.” You murmur before pulling away. You grab his legs and move him into a mating press. Miguel barely has time to process what you just did thanks to your sudden and rough thrusts. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your skin, and moans loudly as you properly breed his pussy. He can barely keep his eyes focused but just glimpsing upon your aroused expression makes his heart race even faster. It perfectly displays how much you love him and how good he's making you feel. He happily listens to your breathy words of praise and your low sounds of pleasure, falling deeper in love with you as the two of you completely tie yourselves together forever. He’s never been happier.

He already feels himself reaching his orgasm. “‘M clo- oh- close~!” He cries out. “Fuck-” He gasps, suddenly coming. He digs deeper into your skin when he feels you slow down. “Don’t- don’t you dare stop-” He almost growls at you. You take that as a warning and resume your previous pace. He manages to stay sane even as you continue to fuck his sensitive cunt, all for the sake of feeling you impregnate him. Just that is enough to give him strength to keep going.

“You're doing so- so good, Miguel.” You let out a low sound of pleasure. “Such a good boy for me..”

He moans happily.

“And you feel so fucking good..” Your breathing becomes more labored. “Making me come so fast with your tight pussy-” You groan, stopping as you fill him up with your first load of the night. He feels euphoric as your cum invades his insides.

“More…” He looks up at you with the cutest expression.

“I won't stop until I’m shooting blanks, baby.”

Miguel grins. He can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you and your kids.

[moonstruckme]

I went out with my friends yesterday cuz one of them threw a party and it was so much fun but omfg I'm so violently hung over can I pls get a fic with any of the boys and a hungover reader them just cuddling her but also being like I told u not to have that last drink....3 drinks ago

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of alcohol, hangover

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 443 words

Peter wants so badly to be noisy and obnoxious, but he’s quiet because he loves you. 

“Hey, bub,” he says near a whisper, crawling up beside you on the bed. “I think it’s probably time to wake up, don’t you?” 

Despite his best efforts with the blinds, insistent threads of golden afternoon light sneak in through the cracks, and you turn your face into the pillow as you moan. 

“Aw, I know.” Peter’s unable to keep the laughter out of his voice, pulling down the covers to rub between your shoulder blades. “My poor girl. Who did this to you, huh?” 

Your reply is muffled by both pillow and lethargy. “Shuddup.” 

His laugh comes out for real now. You squirm away from the sound, trying fruitlessly to burrow deeper into your pillow as Peter drops a kiss on your shoulder, bare where his t-shirt has slipped off. 

“I’ve got lukewarm water and painkillers,” he says enticingly. “Breakfast of champions.” 

Your hand emerges from beneath the covers, reaching for them. 

“Uh, no.” Peter poorly contains another chuckle as he leans away from your searching hand. “You’ve got to sit up to have it, sorry.” 

It takes time and effort, Peter helping you with a hand on your back, and when your eyes meet his amusement makes some room for pity. 

“Here you go, baby.” He holds out the water and pills. You rub your eyes before taking them, little flakes of crusted-on makeup falling onto the sheets. “Drink it all,” he says when you stop after the sip it takes to down the painkillers. “You’re dehydrated, that’s why your head hurts.” 

Your mouth puckers distastefully. “I’ll throw up,” you worry. 

“Small sips,” Peter agrees, kissing your shoulder rewardingly when you take another. You’re looking at him now, too, eyes watchful and expression stiff with some kind of indecision. “What is it?” 

You hesitate a second longer before asking, “Can we hug?” 

“Aw-w-w.” It stutters out of him on a laugh, and your face goes pouty as Peter slides his hands around your middle, hugging you sideways and resting his head atop yours. “Course we can, baby. You’re really feeling shitty, huh?” 

You make a pitiful sound, leaning into his touch. 

“Wishing you’d stopped after that fourth drink like I told you to?” 

Now your whine has more bite to it. Peter holds you tighter so you won’t leave, smiling as he kisses your hair. 

“That’s okay, my silly girl. Lucky you’ve got the world’s most forgiving boyfriend to take care of you, huh?” 

“It’d be nice,” you mutter, “if he were the world’s least gloat-y boyfriend too.” 

“Well, we can’t have it all, sweetheart.”

[jjsfavgirl]

Let it all out, party girl

Since over 400 of you liked my blurb “calm down party girl”?! (That is insane Tysm) I have decided to make a part to of the dreadful hangover JJ’s girlfriend faces.

This is pt two of calm down party girl<3

Summary- JJ Maybank taking care of his very hungover girlfriend

Warnings: vomiting, pet names

Part 1 Part 2

-

There you both were, in the Château bathroom as you groaned and cradled the toilet bowl while one of JJ’s hand worked circles around your lower back as his fingers had quickly entangled to hold your hair out of you face as last nights components came from your lips.

“Let it all out, party girl.” JJ cooed, wincing back slightly as he glanced down at the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry, Jay.” You sobbed quietly, praying that was the last contents of your stomach.

“Ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, princess.” He smiled, smoothing the now sweaty hair away from your face as your wiped your mouth.

JJ patted your knee cap before standing up and reaching over the counter to grab the toothpaste and your toothbrush that you had left there many moons ago. The sound of the tap running caused you to glanced up at your boyfriend from the cold wood floor, your head pounding as the bright ceiling light blinded you.

“Brush.” JJ demanded, passing you the toothpaste coated toothbrush down to you.

After successfully brushing your teeth without vomiting once more, JJ took this as a safe sign to help you back into bed.

“Gunna get you some water and I’ll try and see if Kie has some Advil or somethin’” he smiled, laying you down on the soft mattress as he pulled the sheets over you carefully.

You could only let out a giggle at your boyfriend’s sweet actions. He was your knight in shining armour. Always.

“Yo! Kie! You’re a lady you got any like Advil or something for hangover?” He asked the brunette, a spliff in her hand and a cup of water for his girl in his.

“What does me being a girl have anything to do with carrying Advil?” She asked confusingly, furring her brows at the blonde boy.

“Y’know, lady things.” He groaned, already hating himself for saying the sacred words.

“Take the fucking Advil from my backpack. You ever say lady things again and I will push you into the ocean.” She grunted at the boy, just as disgusted with his word choice as she tossed him a pill packet.

“Sorry! You’re the best!” He cheered, running back to yours and JJ’s room, spilling some water on the way there.

“Here you go, honey.” He passed you the ice cold water as he popped an Advil for you.

“Thank u.” You attempted to send him a grateful smile even though the pounding sensation in your head only grew with every movement.

With a groan from you, JJ climbed into bed beside you and tucked himself in as he linked one of his bare arms around your shoulders.

“What happened to the vodka shot taken champion from last night huh?” He teased, smirking down at you as h awaited your classic snarky hangover response.

“She died.” You moaned, your head hurting more as you leaned directly into the sun.

-

Just a little part two!! Enjoy!!

Love ivy🫶🏻

Taglist: @chimindity @chiaraanatra

[auroralwriting]

Corporate heir!Bucky and childhood best friend!reader waking up in an unfamiliar hotel room (after a crazy night) to a bunch of congratulatory messages about their Vegas wedding that they don’t remember having happened at all

vegas lights

corporate heir!bucky barnes x reader

what the hell happened in vegas last night?

warnings: hangover, overall fluff and humor

it’s a little shorter than i normally write but i love it 🫶

The sound of the annoying ping of your phone was the first thing you heard when you woke up, and it was probably what woke you up in the first place. You didn't dare touch your phone yet. The room was still dark and you knew the light of your phone would kill your eyes.

It took a moment before it hit you, there was someone breathing next to you. No, not breathing, but sleeping. A quick glance and you saw it was Bucky.

Now, this wasn't super uncommon. Bucky and you had slept in the same bed before. Nothing sexual or weird, it just happened that during movie nights you both fell asleep. Totally normal for two best friends.

It took you another moment to realize you were just in a bra and underwear, which is when you freaked out.

"Oh my God, Bucky!" You cried, pushing him in the arm lightly. That motion was enough to make him jolt awake, clutching his head as he squinted.

"Jesus, what fuckin' time is it?" He groaned as he slowly sat up. It took him just about as long as you to realize he was almost naked. "And where the fuck are my clothes? Where are your clothes?"

You quickly pulled the sheet up and over your chest as you scooted back against the headboard. You hadn't even noticed your killer headache, causing your eyes to squint as you had to adjust to the pounding in your head.

"I don't know," You responded. "We got drunk."

"Yeah," Bucky chuckled bitterly, upset by his lack of memory and ache in his head. "No shit."

Bucky was quick to stand up, regretting the pace as he groaned. He groggily made his way around the room, picking up scrap pieces of clothing you both had left behind. He tossed you your shirt as he put on his own. "I think the pants are still in the covers." That didn't matter as much now that you both had on shirts. You were thankful for any clothing.

Your hand searched over the nightstand to search for anything you could take. Thankfully, your drunk self had left some pills for the morning. You passed a few over to Bucky who took them instantly, followed by you. He laid back down on the bed with a soft grunt. "I haven't been this hungover since I was freshly twenty-one."

"I think I remember that night," Bucky chuckled. "You threw up all over Sam."

You cringed at the memory, replaying it in your head. You had way too many shots, and they all ended up on Sam. It might have been the worst night of your life. "Don't remind me."

"You remember anything from last night?" Bucky changed the topic. He rubbed his forehead as his eyes furrowed, deep in thought. "I can't even remember where the fuck we are."

You thought on his words for a moment. Where were you? A few memories came back as you thought. You were celebrating, you'd been bar hopping in Vegas.

"Vegas," You replied, pursing your lips. "We were celebrating, uhm.."

"Dad said I was gonna run the company starting September." Bucky responded with a small nod. "We went out to celebrate that." Bucky smiled softly, remembering how excited he was.

Yeah, that was. right. Yesterday, Bucky's dad gave him the call he'd been waiting for since he was sixteen. After nearly double the time in waiting, Bucky was finally becoming the CEO of his father's company. He was ready to retire before the next big season. Bucky was beyond excited, and he suggested you all should go bar hopping to celebrate. Wait, all?

"Who else was with us?" You asked as Bucky searched the floor for any clothing. He threw you one of his long shirts and took one for himself. You quickly slid it on, now allowing the sheet to cover the remaining bare part of your legs.

"I think it was just the group," Bucky replied. He'd invited all your guys' friends to go, too. Where did they go?

It seemed like Bucky had the same question. He was brave enough to reach for his phone and turn it on. After a few moments, his reaction was not what you expected it to be.

"Why are they congratulating both of us?" Bucky murmured as you grabbed your phone.

You opened your messages app to see a load of messages from all your friends.

iMessage: 25+ unread messages

Natasha: Congrats you two, live it up 🎉

Steve: Have a great time tonight you two ;)

Tony: WHY DID I MISS THIS?! congrats tho

Sam: Don't get too wild tonight you freaks 🥵

Wanda: AJFAOGWEGJ !!!!!!!!

"What are they talking about?" You asked as you scrolled through the countless messages.

Bucky turned to you, clicking off his phone. "Let's piece it all together. We got to the bars, started drinking..."

"Okay, yes," You nodded, setting your phone down. "We went to Tito's, Smiley Ray's, Tavern T, and," You hesitated.

"Corkscrew!" Bucky clapped his hands loudly, making both of you cringe. "Okay, so we got to the last one. We were probably super drunk by then. What happened after?"

You felt your memorize return in a haze, a faded mesh of colors that seemed endless. You remember Bucky's hands all over you, not sexually, but in new, unexplored places for just two best friends.

That's when it hit you. You should've felt it sooner, but you were so hungover that it didn't properly register in your brain.

The ring that sat on your ring finger was dainty, small, just the way you liked it. It felt heavy, cool, and you could tell it was real. You held your hand out for Bucky to see.

"Hey, that's a pretty ring." Bucky casually mentioned. A moment later, his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Holy fuck, we got married!"

"No, no, I remember now," You began. "They were all making comments about how perfect we would be together, and-and we just ran with it!"

Bucky rubbed his face, "I must've picked that up on the way to wherever we got married."

"And Vegas marriages are very real," You sighed. "God, what are we going to do?"

"I mean," Bucky paused, shrugging as he grabbed your left hand, admiring the ring on your finger. "It's a pretty ring."

You felt your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he spoke. "Don't tell me you think we should stay married." The idea felt ridiculous. Sure, did you have a long-time crush on your childhood best friend? Yes. But did that mean getting drunkenly married was the way about it? Absolutely not.

"C'mon, doll. We aren't getting any younger. We're both successful people who both happen to be single." Bucky emphasized.

"Buck, I can't just marry you because of that. You don't even love me like that, we can't just be married because-"

Bucky cut you off in an instant. "Who ever said I don't love you like that?" You felt your heart stop at his words. It felt like the room that had previously been spinning from hangover suddenly paused. "Seriously, who said that?"

"You can't be serious," You half smiled, trying to convince yourself he was joking. "That's not a funny joke, Bucky."

"Doll, I'm not joking." Bucky said, inching closer to you. "I love you, and not like a best friend. I've been in love with you since the seventh grade."

You smiled lightly, "Try sixth grade."

With your words, he pushed himself closer to you. He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, holding it softly as he interlocked his lips with your own. It felt so delicate, so fragile, yet exploratory and hungry. His thumb caressed the back of your neck as you placed your hands on his cheeks.

"So, husband," You said as you pulled back. "Think we're gonna have a real wedding after this?"

Bucky chuckled as one hand moved to your waist, gently rubbing your hip. "Doll, I'm gonna give you a better wedding than you've ever dreamed of."

You hummed in contentment as you put your forehead against his, "I can't wait to marry you again."

[medusapelagia]

Serenade

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 17: This one's for you) and @astrangersummer (Week 12: Forgotten) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 1000

(So... this entry for the Corroded Coffin Fest and the Steddie week got A LOT of attention and people asked me for a sequel So this can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel of Love at first sight.)

Steve can’t suffocate a whimper when the curtains of his room open unexpectedly and Robin turns toward him with a grin.

“Raise and shine, baby! We have another incredible shift at Target!”

“Fuck you, Robin. I’m sick, I can’t go to work.”

Robin lifts an eyebrow, and points at the glass of water and the Advil pills on Steve’s night table, “Not sick, babe, just in hangover, and given the fact you decided it was a good idea got wasted without me I think that spending your hangover with me dealing with customers is the right punishment.”

Muttering that he feels he’s been punished more than enough, Steve gulps down water and pills, grabs the wrinkled clothes he finds on his chair, and follows Robin into the kitchen, where a warm toast and a cup of coffee are already waiting for him.

“Still hate you, but you’re the best.”

“I know you do, dingus. Now, want to talk about last night?”

Steve tilts his head frowning in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Robin grabs her phone, opens WhatsApp, and plays an audio message in which a really drunk Steve stutters something about having found the man of his dreams.

“I’m going to marry him, Rob! Will you be my bestwoman?” Steve’s drunken voice says.

“So… who’s this mystery man?”

“Who? I have no idea who you are talking about.” Steve shrugs in confusion, “I was obviously drunk. I don’t remember a thing.”

Robin scrutinizes him for a long time before nodding to herself, “Ok, fine. But this is another reason why you’re not allowed to go out drinking without me!” She declares, pouring two glasses of orange juice for both of them.

“What about your date? Is Chrissy everything you were looking for?”

“She is not.” Steve sighs, ready to comfort her when Robin adds, “She’s way better! She is fun! And beautiful! And when she laughs she snorts so adorably… and we’re fucking late! Let’s go!” Robin says, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him out of the door while she keeps telling him about the amazing date she had the night before. 

When they get outside the crispy air makes Robin shiver, so she reaches into Steve’s jacket’s pocket to warm herself, but she retreats her hand with a gagging sound, “Didn’t your mom teach you to throw away used tissues?” she asks, making a disgusted face.

Steve frowns and puts his hand in his pocket, retrieving a crumpled napkin with some pen’s shaky signs. He opens the napkin to get a better look and finds a telephone number and a name: Eddie.

“Holy fucking shit! You did meet someone!” Robin grins, “Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

Shaking his head, red with embarrassment, Steve confirms he doesn’t remember anything.

“Ok. Only one thing to do.” Robin grabs Steve’s phone, “Call him.”

“What?! No! What if he’s a psycho? Or if I made a fool out of myself? It’s better to forget about it.”

“Ok.” Robin shrugs, turning her back to Steve who glares at her with suspicion, it's not like her to surrender so easily.

“What…? Robin! No!" He says trying to grab the phone, but she’s already dialing the number, “Robin what the fuck!”

“Hello?” A warm voice replies after a couple of rings.

“Oh… Hey… Eddie? I… I’m Steve.”

“Oh, Stevie.” Someone in the back makes a satiric comment while the man on the phone opens a door and moves somewhere quieter, “Are you feeling better? Did you drink a lot of water like I suggested?”

“I… yeah… I did… but…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

That word triggers something in Steve's mind, a blurred memory of a group of men wearing leather jackets and talking loudly.

“I… Look… I know this sounds bad but I don’t remember what happened last night and I wanted to apologize if I made a fool out of myself.”

“Oh. Ok. Not what I was expecting, but it’s fine.” The voice sounds disappointed and it makes Steve’s heart ache.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Listen I have to go, the guys and I have a little concert and we’re in the middle of the soundcheck.”

“Oh. Yeah. You signed a big contract, right?”

“So you do remember something.” The man points out, amused, “You know what? Why don’t you come to see us? Tonight, at the HideOut, I promise not to let you drink until we talk.”

“At the HideOut? Tonight?” Robin grabs Steve's arm and points at herself, “Can I bring a friend with me?”

“Sure. See you there.”

When Eddie closes the call and goes back to the stage, Jeff is grinning, “So, is he still in love with you?”

“Don’t think so. He doesn’t remember me.”

“Oh, this sucks.” Gareth says, stopping the cymbals, “So what are you going to do?”

“The only thing anyone in his right mind would do: serenade him in front of a crowd!” Eddie chuckles while he grabs his guitar and adds a new song to their track listing and Freak winks at him.

“Bold choice.”

“I’m not going to chicken out. He said he loved me, right?”

When the doors open it isn't hard for Eddie to spot Steve, who is wearing a bright yellow sweater and stands out like a sore thumb in an ocean of dark jeans and black t-shirts.

They play the single they have just recorded and the crowd explodes, but Eddie’s eyes are pinned on Steve when he announces “Stevie, this one's for you.”

Eddie moves around the stage, getting back to back with Freak while playing, but he gets closer to the audience, searching for Steve's eyes when he sings, “And, want to treasure the rest of your days here, and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear.”

Once the concert ends, Eddie asks to bring Steve backstage and when he sees him, he winks, "I think we're doing things the other way around, but... would you like to go on a date with me?"

[itsnevercasual]

RISK PART I

pairing: mafia!harry x singer!reader

summary: Harry is in town for some.. less than legal business, and you're a local singer trying to get your foot in the door, and also planning your wedding. And maybe Harry is a little too interested in you.

warnings: cussing, slight hints at abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, talks of death, guns, murder, lots of illegal things, alcohol, drugs, me writing with autocaps (ew ik) (this is the worst one)

-

It was far too early for you to be awake, and yet there you were. 7:30 AM on a Tuesday morning in Daytona, standing in a convenience store with your best friend because your boyfriends got drunk the night before.

Well, her boyfriend. Your fiancé.

"Ni was so fucking drunk," Jodie laughed.

"God, I know. I wouldn't be surprised if he wakes up with alcohol poisoning."

"Connor was also pretty fucked up, but it wasn't as funny. He's such an ass when he's drunk."

You sigh, it took her about ten minutes to bring it up. "I know. He's been better though. Just.. I dunno, he gets drunk, and it makes him grumpy," you shrug.

"Yeah, but he kept snapping at you. Seriously, it was pissing me off and killing the vibe."

"Ni shut him up eventually."

You'd long since came to terms with the fact that the man you were planning on marrying was... more or less, a dick, when he was drunk. And when he was sober, but especially when he was drunk.

"You think Advil is enough, or should we just.. grab everything?" you ask as you look through the painkillers. You didn't get drunk enough to ever really find out the best hangover cures. You would, if Connor didn't hate when you were drunk.

"Just grab a pack of those," Jodie told you, gesturing with her hand to a box.

Goody's Hangover Cure.

Well, if he says so.

You turn your head as you hear the telltale bell that signaled someone else had entered the otherwise deserted convenience store. You only looked over for three seconds before the sight of a gun had you dropping the box as you resisted the urge to scream.

There were two men, both with ridiculously large guns, standing in the store. Masks covered their faces.

"Jodie.." you whisper. You were close enough to the back that you were hidden by the shelves, but you could see them.

"Y/N, get behind me. Now," Jodie whispered quickly. She grabbed your wrist and yanked you behind her.

"Give us everything in the register!" one of the men ordered as the clerk frantically opened it.

"Hurry up!" the other one shouted. You flinched.

Jodie slowly pulled both of you to the floor. You both moved so your backs were rested against the shelf, but you might've moved too quick, because your back hit the shelf, and a bunch of boxes topple over.

You squeezed your eyes shut and slapped a hand over your mouth. Jodie tugged you into her shoulder as she squeezed your free hand.

"Who the hell's there?"

Neither of you moved. You weren't even sure you were breathing, actually.

"Go check it out."

Murdered by Robbers at 7:30 in the Morning was about to be the headline about your death.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as one of the men approached. They stopped in front of you two before moving on. You assumed he'd made it to the other guy when--

"There's no one, man."

"You sure?"

"Faulty shelf."

You nearly cried out of relief. You weren't necessarily religious, but you were thanking every God ever at that point.

It was a few more minutes until the doors slammed shut and they left.

-

"The hell are you freaking out about?" Harry asked as the two men stood in the alleyway. Niall was pacing back and forth, running his hands over his face.

"My girlfriend was in there, man."

"What?" Harry asked, sticking a cigarette in between his lips and lighting it.

"My girlfriend! She- I got fucked up last night, and I think she was trying to get me some pills or some shit. She was sitting behind a shelf with one of our friends. Fuck!"

"She doesn't know it was you, Ni, calm down."

"That's not the problem! The problem is that I probably traumatized her! And our friend!"

"We didn't even go near them."

Harry didn't understand what the big deal was. He liked Niall's girlfriend, but she was relatively unbothered about everything.

"Our friend's brother got shot and died during a robbery, H. That's who Jodie was with."

"Oh. Well, that sucks."

"Jesus Christ. Would it kill you to have some empathy?"

"Probably," Harry shrugged.

Niall groaned, "Whatever. But you better be nice as hell whenever we get there."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's fuckin' go before they beat us there and start asking questions."

-

When Jodie and you got back to the house, Niall and Connor were passed out on the couch. You expected to be more shaken up, but you were relatively fine. You weren't having a panic attack, at least.

"I'm gonna go get water," you told her as you tossed her the bag. She nodded as you sighed and walked towards the kitchen. You pulled the fridge open, grabbing a water bottle. You opened it and took a generous sip. You turned and locked eyes with a man you'd never seen before.

"Hey."

You spit your water out all over the counter.

"What the fuck!" you shrieked.

Jodie came running in, "What, what happened? What's--"

Jodie saw the intruder, and instead of losing her shit, she smiled.

Holy shit, my childhood best friend is helping me get murdered, you thought.

"Harry!" she exclaimed as she hugged him.

"Jo! Don't hug the intruder!"

"He's not an intruder," she laughed, turning to face you as they broke the hug. "He's Ni and I's friend. I forgot to tell you he was coming into town."

"Clearly."

"Harry, this is Y/N. Y/N.. Harry."

"Ah, so this is the infamous childhood best friend?"

Once you realized he wasn't there with the intention of stabbing you to death, you relaxed. "Talk about me, much?" you asked Jodie with a teasing grin.

"Only every second of every day," she grinned.

"Fuck Connor and Ni, how about we get married?"

"I was just thinking that!"

You laughed, and turned to Harry, "Sorry I spat water all over you. And screamed at you. And called you an intruder."

"All is forgiven," he laughed.

"I swear I'm normal. I also usually know whenever people are in my house, though."

You glare at Jodie.

"I forgot!" she defended herself.

"Mhm. I'm going back to bed. Wake me up whenever we need to get ready, yeah?"

"Mkay," Jodie laughed as you walked towards the bedroom you shared with Connor. You rolled back into bed and went straight to bed.

-

"She seems.. interesting."

"Yeah. She's real sweet, you'll like her.”

“Isn’t she married?”

“Engaged,” Jodie corrected with a roll of her eyes. “He’s such an ass.”

“He can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, no. He is.”

“Who’s bad?” Connor asked as he slowly walked into the kitchen.

“Uh.. the.. President.”

He gave Jodie an odd look. “… Right..”

“Shut up and go back to bed, Connor.”

“Jesus, good morning to you, too. Who’s the rando?”

“Connor, this is Harry. Harry, that’s Connor. Harry is Niall and I’s friend we were talkin’ about. Connor is… Y/N’s fiancé,” Jodie grimaced as she said the word.

Connor rolled his eyes, “You gotta get over it. You know how upset she’d be if she knew you actually didn’t like me?”

“That’s why you’re gonna keep your mouth shut, asshole.”

“The only reason you don’t like me is because of some stupid shit I did years ago.”

“Yeah, well, where I cone from, we find… that.. unacceptable.”

That had piqued Harry’s interest. What exactly had Connor done to make Jodie hold a multiple-years-long grudge?

As Connor flipped her off and left the kitchen, Harry turned to Jodie. “So, what’d he do?”

Jodie opened her mouth, like she was about to tell him, before sighing. “I can’t say. I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell anyone or bring it up again. She still gets upset about it. Sorry,” she gave him an apologetic look.

“‘S’fine. I’ll just find out myself. I’m sure I could convince her.”

Jodie narrowed her eyes at him, “Be nice.”

“I’m hurt. I’m always nice.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

-

Later that day, Niall had dragged Harry to some dingy club.

“The hell are we doin’ here, man?” Harry scoffed.

Niall laughed, “Calm down, mate, the girls are gonna meet us here. Plus, we’re gonna have a Connor-free night, which means Y/N will one thousand percent get drunk. She’s a blast, honestly.”

“She not get drunk often, or what?”

“She used to,” Niall shrugged. “When we were in college, she was a pro drinker. Took forever for her to get drunk. But… Connor hates when she’s wasted, ‘cause then he has to ‘deal with it’, as he says.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Every single thing I hear about him makes me dislike him more-“

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome to the stage… The Diamonds!”

“Where the hell are the girls at? The band’s about to start.”

Niall smirked, leaning against the counter, “You’ll see.”

The band walked onstage and Harry nearly choked on his drink as you and Jodie took the mics. He’d known Jodie for years— since when was she in a band? And you didn’t seem like the band type, either.

“You can beat the heat, if you beat the charges, too,” you began singing as the music started. “They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true. And my friends all smell like weed or little babies. And the city reeks of driving myself crazy..”

The way you looked was driving him crazy. Black Bell Bottom jeans with stars embroidered on the legs with platform stiletto type heels, and a leather halter top.

Jodie’s outfit was a little different. Platform shoes, black tights, a denim mini-skirt, and a black long-sleeve with a leather jacket thrown over.

“Little did you know, your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in. So, you work your life away just to pay for a time-share down in Destin.”

“Florida,” you and Jodie sang.

“Is one hell of a drug.”

“Florida.”

“Can I use you up?”

“The hurricane with my name when it came,” Jodie sang, finally singing on her own. The people in the crowd who knew her, cheered, including Niall and Harry. “I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away. Barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine. Well, me and my ghost, we had a hell of a time. Yes, I’m haunted, but I’m feeling just fine. All my girls got their lace and their crimes. And your cheating husband disappeared. Well, no one asks any questions here. So, I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that gave ever been on my body, and in my mind… they sink into the swamp.”

“.. Is that a bad thing to say in a song?” Jodie whisper-sang with you. He could hear your laugh through the singing, and it was like a drug to him. Sweet as honey.

“Little did you know,” Jodie sang, “your home’s really only the town you’ll get arrested. So you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas.”

“Florida!” the two of you sang, jumping on the beat.

“Is one hell of a drug.”

“Florida!”

“Can I use you..”

“.. up,” Jodie joined you.

“I need to forget, so, take me to Florida,” you sang.

“I’ve got some regrets, I’ll bury them in Florida.”

“Tell me I’m despicable, say it’s unforgivable.”

The two of you sang together, “At least the dolls are beautiful. Fuck me up, Florida.”

“I need to forget, so take me to Florida.”

“I’ve got some regrets, I’ll bury them in Florida,” Jodie joined you.

You split off to sing by yourself, “Tell me I’m despicable, say it’s unforgivable. What a crash, what a rush, fuck me up, Florida! It’s one hell of a drug..”

“It’s one hell of a drug!” The two of you sang. “Love left me like this, and I don’t want to exist, so, take me to Florida!”

“Little did you know your home’s really only,” you sang.

“A town you’re just a guest in.”

“So you work your life away just to pay—“

“— for a timeshare down in Destin.”

“Take me to—“

“— Florida.”

“Little did you know, your home’s really only the town you’ll get arrested.”

“Florida.”

The two of you sang together, “So you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas. Florida! Is one hell of a drug.”

“Take me to,” you sang.

“Florida,” Jodie sang with you. “Can I use you up? Florida!”

“Is one hell of a drug.”

“Florida!”

“Go on, fuck me.. up.”

The club erupted into cheers as the two of you finished the song.

“They’re good,” Harry commented.

“Yeah. They’re a force to be reckoned with. ‘specially Y/N.”

“So it seems.”

-

A/N: AAAAA IM SO EXCITWD FOR THIS OKAY YAYY

[slutforitoshi]

sae and rin itoshi - aphrodisiac *:･ﾟ✧

ft. sae itoshi x f!reader x rin itoshi, 18+ minors dni

cw: threesome, rin and sae literally fight over your body, f!masturbation, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, cumming on face

synopsis: your hangover leads you to make the best mistake

wc: 3k

A/N: so fucking feral for this duo <3 also as for requests, i’m open to prompts but it’s not a guarantee i’ll write it T-T (please send in ideas though i’m always looking for inspo!)

you woke up with your head pounding incessantly, mimicking the music from the clubs you hopped the night before. you don’t even remember how you got home. fuck, why did you think it was a good idea to drink like you were still a freshman?

you fumble for your phone at the edge of your bed, hoping you remembered to charge it before you passed out. near the top of your notification stack was a text from your roommate.

roomie: headed back home for the weekend! i was gonna say bye but you were still knocked out lol. introduce me to your new friends again sometime, they were cute ;) 

what was she talking about? as far as you remembered you came home alone after a night out with some old high school friends that your roommate already knew. well, as far as you remembered was around 6 shots in, barely past the 1st club. 

you laid a bit longer in bed, trying to recall the events that ensued after your old friend challenged you to match her. how were you supposed to know she could outdrink any frat guy multiple times over? the night started coming back to you in flashes, like you were watching a compilation of embarrassing clips that got increasingly worse.

dancing on a table, throwing up in a bush, getting close to kissing the bartender for free drinks…was there anything you didn’t do??

the pounding in your head grew in intensity, pushing you out of bed and straight to the medicine cabinet. tylenol, tylenol, tylenol…aha there. you grab the white bottle and pop the cap open, downing two at once, dry (that’s how desperate you were for the migraine to subside).

the couch was your next destination. you felt the soft cushions and way too many pillows and plushes rest against you, giving you immediate relief from the aches in your body. see? i told you it was a good idea you said internally at your mom who was complaining how the couch decor was “excessive”.

you waited for the pills to kick in, to give you any relief from the persistent pressure that surrounded your temples. and it did…only to move down lower. it starts off as a slight pressure on your abdomen, then blossoming into heat. you weren’t innocuous at this point in life, and recognized exactly what it was: you were horny.

and the heat only grew, morphing into a roaring fire, with the incinerator located right between your thighs. you could already feel the dampness, threatening to leak past your folds onto cloth. this cannot be right. who gets aggressively horny during a hangover??

you begrudgingly hoist yourself up from the soft plushes, and make your way back to the medicine cabinet, starting to wonder if the tylenol might’ve been expired or something. the bottle itself looked normal, until you looked inside it. tylenol isn’t supposed to be pink.

you fish a pill out, looking for any engravings that might tell you what the fuck you ingested half an hour ago. libido-max. from the name of it alone (along with your still intensifying symptoms) you should’ve realized what it meant. nonetheless you resort to good old google to help explain.

“libido-max is an over the counter sex enhancement pill for women complete with a warming formula for maximized pleasure” your hand clasps over your mouth as you continue reading, “the recommended serving size is one pill as the dosage is quite strong.”

it dawns upon you that you took double the recommended amount. shit. you were definitely never drinking like that ever again. you contemplate texting your roommate why tf did you switch out the tylenol for female viagra, but decided against it. technically it was on you, too. leave it up to your dreadfully hungover self to swallow bright pink pills without thinking twice.

as you felt the temperature in your body continue to rise, there was only one method you could think of for relief. switching to incognito you pull up a porn site, settling on a video you thought would do. you skipped through all the bad acting in the intro, right into the action, desperate for some release. 

“harder…fuckk” the woman through your screen moans, and you could feel your clit throbbing in response. reaching down, you’re met with more slick than you’d ever encountered touching yourself. squelching noises echoed your room, growing louder than the sinful moans coming from the speaker of your phone.

your small fingers slid easily into sopping entrance, and the sensation was more than welcomed. small moans began to escape your lips as well, harmonizing with the other woman’s. you synchronized your fingers with the thrusts in the video, imagining it was you getting pounded, fucked so mercilessly by a thick cock.

after a particularly loud moan through your phone, you can feel it. like you’re at the edge of a cliff ready to drop before-

knock knock.

aand you lost it. grumbling, you exit out of the tab and pull up your already drenched panties. if it was another old lady trying to recruit you to join a pyramid scheme, you weren’t sure if you could resist slamming the door.

“look i’m not interested in-” instead of a short old woman with a fake smile, you’re met with a pair of teal eyes. two actually, now that you noticed the second figure behind him. 

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry, i thought you were- well nevermind um can i help you?” you stumble over your words, half out of embarrassment and half because you realized the two guys standing in front of you were attractive. 

“we stopped by to return your jacket” the one with light maroon colored hair says, holding up the familiar coat you left your house wearing last night. 

“shoot, thank you so much” you take the coat out of his hands, noticing that they’re veiny with long fingers. you try to ignore the flash of heat the observation causes.

“how did you know it was mine though?” you cautiously ask.

“oh she must not remember” the taller one says softly. your mind starts racing. what the fuck did you do in front of them?

“it wasn’t anything that bad” the one in front reassures you, seeing the panic settle on your face. “you just passed out in our apartment and we had to carry you here.”

wasn’t anything that bad??? you were mortified. you knocked out in some random (really attractive) guys’ apartment and they had to bring you back. well that explains how you got home last night then.

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry,” you replied, clearly flustered. the guys don’t give much of a response though, simply shrugging. you noticed that they were pretty expressionless.

“it’s ok, we live next door anyways” the green haired one says, looking to the right. “we were taking out the trash and came back to you on our couch. your roommate called you a bit after so we knew where to take you.”

ah, they must be the cute new friends your roommate texted you about.

before you could respond, a pair of cold hands were on your cheek (or maybe you thought they were cold because you were still under the effects of the pills).

“are you sick?” the owner of the cold hands was the maroon-haired one. you flinched away from his hands, turning an even deeper shade of pink. 

“n-no, probably just a bit hungover though” you nervously laughed, hoping they’d just accept that.

“you look like you’re burning up, maybe a fever?” the other one steps forward, taking a closer look at your flushed appearance. yeah it’s because you feel like a fucking dog in heat and having two insanely hot guys in front of you is not. helping. 

“no i promise i’m fine” you try harder to convince the duo, “i probably just need to rest up from last night…”

neither of them move from the front door, and the green haired one cocks an eyebrow. they clearly don’t believe you. 

“do you need any medicine? we should have flu medicine-” the green haired one starts.

“nope no flu medicine needed here” you let out a nervous chuckle, trying not to let your knees buckle. the knot in your abdomen grew significantly since you answered the door. you needed to cum, and soon.

“hey we don’t mind getting you some. i think your roommate mentioned she was leaving this weekend and you shouldn’t be home alone without medicine-” this time the maroon haired one is cut off.

“i promise i’m not sick” you exasperate, now having to lean against the frame for support (clearly not a good look for your case). the shorter guy’s eyebrows furrow in concern. both pairs of feet were still planted in your doorway, and you realize they weren’t leaving until you either accepted the medicine or told them the truth. 

looking back, the other option was clearly the more logical and less embarrassing one. you’d blame the hangover for the words that spilled out of your mouth next.

“it’s not because of a fever. i…i accidentally mistook sex enhancement pills for tylenol and took way more than the recommended dose,” your bit your lip, hoping they’d leave now that you were honest. the two look at each other, and the teal glint in their eyes served as a signal that they were thinking the exact same thing.

“there’s still a way we can help you though”

~~~

“rinn” you moaned as his fingers ghosted over your already pebbled nipples through the thin tank you had on. 

pleasantries and introductions were quickly exchanged as they kicked off their shoes and began undressing. you could hardly believe your ears at their suggestion, but you weren’t exactly in the position to refuse such a tempting offer. in fact, you were more than eager to accept.

now, you were draped over the couch, your head facing who you now knew as rin. sae was on the opposite end, marveling at the mess you made through your cotton shorts. 

“it’s like a fucking flood down here,” and he starts pulling at the waistband. 

rin continues to tease your nipples, never giving you enough friction. you were so responsive, even the slightest touch had your back arching. please, more, you beg internally. rin seems to recognize your pleads though and finally pulls your tank down to reveal the hypersensitive skin.

his lips are upon them immediately, sucking harshly, causing an exceptionally loud moan from you. from your half-closed lids, you could see sae’s eyes darken. as if unhappy how his brother could emit such a reaction from you. he was determined to do better.

you were fully exposed waist down now, and sae slowly runs a finger down the soaked slit, taking note of how you shivered from the action. he presses two fingers and is amazed at how easily they slip in, prompting him to add a third.

“fuck sae…so full” you moan out, which sae responds with a smirk before he starts moving his digits. in and out, in and out, and you could feel yourself tiptoeing the side of the cliff again. what does it for you is rin though.

“stop hogging her pussy” he says, rising from your chest. one of his hands move down, pausing precisely at your clit. as soon as he’s circling them you feel the push over the edge. 

“i-i’m cumming!” you scream out, followed by waves of intense moans. you weren’t sure if you’d ever cum so hard before. it took a minute for you to recover, only to see the brothers’ hands had left you.

“what the fuck rin. that was my moment” sae spat, clearly pissed he wasn’t the catalyst to your orgasm. 

“you should’ve been faster then” rin responds, a glare settled on his face. the warmth in your stomach was still growing, and you were still desperate for their touch.

“i want another” you whine, and teal orbs immediately snap back to you. right, the match was far from over. that was just the first goal.

they assume their old positions, except sae intends to use more than his fingers this time. it felt like fireworks the moment his lips hit your heat. the soft muscle of his tongue circled your clit, then moved down to dip inside the leaking hole. the added combination of the pill’s effects along with the sensitivity from your last orgasm had you bucking your hips which sae quickly restricted. he pins down your lower waist with his arm, and you could feel how strong he was. 

rin’s lips instead sought out yours, messily kissing them as he fumbled with his belt buckle. then his lips were off yours. a light push causes you to fall onto your back, and he pulls you forward abruptly so that your head is left hanging off the side of the couch. sae’s tongue never leaves you, moving forward with the pull. 

you see your first cock of the day, and it’s pretty. long and curved upwards, towards an insanely handsome face. you instinctively open your mouth, tongue slightly hanging out against your bottom lip.

“fuck, i could cum to this view” rin sighs before pushing his length into you. it almost immediately hits the back of your throat, but he pushes further. tears prickle from the invasion, but you refused to push him off you. not when he’s making such sounds.

breathy moans leave his mouth as he thrusts harshly. you could swear that alone made you grow even hotter. the sight of the bulge that forms at your neck every time he pushes in makes him delirious.  

sae utilizes his fingers with his free hand again, pressing three fingers into the entrance that happily welcomes them as he laps up the slick that continues to flow out. he curves his fingers just right, hitting the spot as if he’d known the exact blueprint of your body. and the second set of waves come.

“that’s right, cum hard for me”

even sae’s arm couldn’t hold you down as your next orgasm shook you, not that he minded. your move rin he mentally said, but rin had other concerns. your throat had gotten tighter, and the vibrations from your moans were pushing him to his own threshold. 

your mouth is hit with a new heat, coming from the man positioned above you. as much as he tried, he couldn’t contain it, and thick white ribbons hits your throat which you struggled to swallow all of. 

as he pulled out of your abused cavern though, his length still remained. it was as if the pill’s effects were contagious. 

sae had risen from his position, taking the time to free his own cock. thick was the first word that came to mind. it no doubt had a wider circumference than his brother’s, although a bit shorter. he uses his strong arms to flip you over, pulling your ass up near him. what a sight. he aligns himself at the entrance, eager to chase the next crash of waves.

usually rin would object to letting his brother take such a pretty girl first, but frankly, he had to take a break; fucking your throat left him breathless. instead he focuses his attention back towards your lips, laying more gentle kisses against them this time. 

sae was still full of need though, and rin’s soft kisses were starkly contrasted with the abrupt stretch of sae’s girth into you. your mind went into a haze, not knowing where to focus your consciousness as rin begins to knead at your hanging breasts. 

“taking cock so well” sae grumbles as the sounds of slapping skin grows “like you were fucking made for it.”

sae’s pace is merciless, and it persisted. you couldn’t fathom the extents of his stamina, seeing as how he didn’t even break a sweat. your voice began to grow hoarse from the repeated moans, and sae’s pride grew knowing he was the cause. 

“hey, mind sharing?” rin deadpans, growing impatient at his brother’s greed. he’s met with a glare, but sae begrudgingly pulls out, leaving you empty. you began to protest, but rin quickly reassures you.

“i’m right here. gonna fill you up real quick” he picks you up with ease, placing himself under your figure. his cock twitches as the tip prods your entrance, reveling in the way your slick coats him. he swiftly bottoms out in one push. sae’s previous work makes it easy for him to quickly pick up the pace, and you’re left an incoherent mess once again.

“f-feels so good rin” you stammer between thrusts. 

“wanna make you cream on my cock. need to feel you cum around me” he mutters

sae’s taken rin’s old position, lining his girth directly in your line of vision. you know what he wants and you happily open your mouth once again. sae begins his attack of new bruises against the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling as you hum in pleasure from rin’s length. 

harder, faster you think, desperate to dissipate the pool of heat in your abdomen.  

even with your mouth full, rin seems to understand you perfectly, hands gripping harder at your waist to help him reach new depths in you. your muscles began to involuntarily clamp around rin, a sign that you were looking over the cliff again. his thrusts also grow erratic as he’s close to his high. 

“f-fuckkk!” you exclaim, losing strength in your lower body. rin continues to pound through your climax, increasing his speed even more until he inevitably shoots strips of white into another tunnel of your body.

sae follows soon after, except he opts to pull out and mark your face instead. 

the three of you collapse on your couch, utterly exhausted from the intensity of the session.

before you could catch your breath though, you felt a familiar warmth start to pool once again down below. 

“still..still hot” you pant, overheating by the second. 

“you heard her rin,” and the brothers shift towards you again, ready for another match.

[avatar-anna]

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

2013

"Mr. Styles? Mr. Styles, you need to get up. You have a radio interview in an hour."

There was no response, but Y/n expected that. Her boss had a tendency of sleeping like the dead, a side effect of partying too long the night before.

Sighing, Y/n stepped further into the lavish hotel suite. Her first instinct was to check the tour bus, but she should've known better. LA always meant a hotel suite. When she finally made it to her boss's room, she only had to follow the trail of clothes leading to the huge bed and there he was. She also noted a separate head of hair tucked beneath the covers. A headache, seeing as that meant a trip to the legal department and an awkward conversation with said headache. But that was the job. And Y/n was nothing if not exceptional at being Harry Styles's personal assistant.

Walking over to Harry's side of the bed, Y/n shook his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath her hand, but she didn't focus on that or the corded muscle that hadn't been there a few months ago. Those boxing lessons really were paying off.

"Mr. Styles, please don't make me get the bucket," Y/n said, shaking his shoulder one last time. When he didn't move, she stepped away to grab the champagne bucket she knew was in the fridge. Harry always had one in his room, but at Y/n's request, not his. 

Before she could grab it though, a voice sounded from the mountain of pillows and blankets. "Please don't. I hate the bucket."

Shaking her head, Y/n told the voice, "If you woke up when you were supposed to, I wouldn't have to use it."

"Your hands are soft but cruel, Y/n," he said, his voice deeper than it normally was.

"You've got thirty minutes to wash last night off and get dressed," was all she said in reply, but there was a small grin on her face.

As far as bosses went, Harry Styles wasn't the worst. He was sweet and not a total diva, which made Y/n's life a lot easier. He was a young guy with a lot of money and fame, though, and that meant waking him up from deep, hangover-induced sleep was the norm, and getting him to arrive on time anywhere was pretty much impossible. But he didn't make her life miserable, and for that she was thankful.

When she made sure Harry was actually out of bed and getting ready, Y/n went about her usual routine—making sure a car was ready to drive them to the radio station, ordering room service, setting out a bottle of water, three Advil, and a bullet coffee from Harry's favorite coffee house when he was in LA on the dining table in the main room of the suite. Room service arrived as she heard the shower shut off, and after checking her watch, Y/n deigned to believe they might not be that late today. A win in her book.

Ten minutes later, Harry was out of the master bedroom in a pair of black skinny jeans and a Stones t-shirt. His hair was damp and unstyled—an easy fix in the car—and his face was surprisingly fresh looking despite his late night. His eyes landed on the water and Advil first, quickly swiping those off the dining table, then saw the plates of food Y/n was helping herself to.

"Leave some for me?" he asked, throwing the pills back and downing them in one gulp.

Y/n shrugged. "Got you something better."

"What's better than Belgian waffles and bacon?"

"I might've popped over to the Beachwood Cafe this morning," she said, grinning when her words dawned on Harry.

"Breakfast burrito?"

"Mmhm."

"And the toast with the special jam?"

"What do you take me for?"

"You're the best, Y/n," Harry gushed, coming around the table to squeeze her. 

For a moment, Y/n’s senses could only process Harry's cologne, a scent that wasn't too overwhelming but definitely there. And when her nose pressed against his neck, she had to make a conscious effort to not breathe in deep. Instead, she shifted in his embrace and plucked a slice of bacon off her plate to hand to him.

As difficult as he could be sometimes, Harry Styles really was a sweetheart. Since she'd started working for him a year ago, he'd been nothing but gracious to her. He always went out of his way to talk to her when he didn't have to, he never raised his voice when things that were out of her control went wrong, he hung out with her in his dressing room when she worked on his schedule or answered emails before his shows, and the Christmas bonus he'd given her this year was unlike anything she'd received before. Y/n had been unsure of what to expect when she took this job, but after nearly a year, she and Harry operated like a well-oiled machine, and she liked to believe that even though he was her boss, they were at the very least acquaintances.

"Is the car ready?" Harry asked around a bite of bacon.

"Yeah, head down there. I'll handle…" Y/n's voice trailed off as she nodded in the direction of the master bedroom, where Harry's guest had yet to hear.

"Right, um…"

Y/n pinned him with a stare. "This is a new low, Mr. Styles."

"I know. I swear I know it, it's the alcohol fog," he insisted, but they both knew that didn't make it any better. "And for the last time, it's Harry."

Shaking her head, Y/n motioned to the door. "Go, or you're gonna be late."

He didn't put up much of a fight after that. He grabbed his coffee and breakfast and headed for the door, but not before squeezing Y/n's shoulder affectionately. "You really are the best, Y/n. I'm gonna give you a raise."

"That's my third raise this year!" Y/n said, calling after him as he walked out.

"You deserve it! Just say thank you!" he said with a wave, then he was gone.

Y/n sat in silence for a moment, her cheeks flushing involuntarily. She swore it was that he was uncharacteristically kind for a celebrity. Harry was just charming and endearing, that was why she was blushing.

"Harry?"

A voice coming from the bedroom brought Y/n back to earth. Harry might have gone to his interview, but her job was far from done. Sighing, she pulled out a folder where she kept all her legal documents out of her bag, rifling through the color-coded tabs until she landed on the purple one. She slipped a piece of paper out, then snagged a pen from a smaller pocket in her purse.

Readying herself for what would be a less-than-pleasant conversation, Y/n clutched the NDA in her hand and went to greet the woman who would no doubt be disappointed to see her instead of the man she thought she seduced the night before.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Back to usual. 

You say goodbye to Joey with an especially clingy hug. She’ll be gone back to campus by the time you get home. Her short visits always leave you a bit sad.

You arrive at Nick’s place and let yourself in. The remnants of the prior day’s get together are still littered over the dining room table and throughout the front room. There’s more in the kitchen.

You gather the empty glasses and a few bottles with varying amounts of liquid still inside. You scrape plates into the pin and sweep napkins in after them. You fill the sink with warm soapy water to wash it all when you hear the soft but clumsy pad of feet on the stairs. They’re too light to be Nick.

You have the coffee brewing in anticipation of your boss’ hangover. The aroma wafts into the air as the machine clicks. A figure appears in the doorway and you turn to greet the woman in her sleek but wrinkled dress. This isn’t unexpected either.

“Good morning,” you greet her stunned eyes as she blanches.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was only–”

“Coffee?” You offer her as you open the cupboard, “look like you need it.”

“N-no, I… should go. Is there a Starbucks around here?” She croaks.

“No need, I can do lattes,” you offer, “he’s got this ridiculously expensive machine.”

“Er,” she looks down at the heels dangling from her hand then back to you, “sorry, are you… do you live…”

“I work for Mr. Fowler. Just the maid,” you assure her. Her assumption fills your chest with an unspent laugh. You’re far too old for Nick. Besides, the concept is ridiculous.

“Oh…” her single syllable dangles.

You pour her a cup and turn to offer it to her. Her mouth slants in a guilty smile. She shambles forward and accepts the mug.

“You take sugar, cream? Maybe some Advil?” You suggest.

“Oat milk? And yes please, my head is pounding.”

“Right, he has almond milk,” you open another cupboard and pluck out the ibuprofen, “or whole milk.”

“Almond is fine,” she accepts as you rattle the bottle.

“One or two, hon,” you ask as you approach her again.

“Two, please,” she inhales the scent of the coffee and sighs, rubbing her eye socket before extending her hand to take the tablet, “the whole bottle if I could.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t miss those days,” you hum and cap the bottle.

You put it away and go into the large fridge, taking out the carton of almond milk for the woman. You take it to her as she approaches the island to clink down the coffee. You watch as she adds the milk and takes a slender spoon from you to stir it in. She takes her first sip and moans before tossing back the pills.

“Coffee good?” You prompt proudly.

“Oh, yeah,” she looks up at you, “yeah, it’s great.”

“Took me a while to master the beast,” you point to the machine. “I finally got my ristretto down, too.”

She gives a nervous laugh and gulps again, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, “you’re nice… really nice. Why?”

You blink at her question. It makes you wonder, was Nick not nice? That’s not really any of your concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and turn to the full sink, “you’re a guest.” You plunge your hands in and scrub the porcelain, “plus, you kinda remind me of my daughter. I’d like someone to treat her nicely too.”

“Ah,” she accepts, “that’s really sweet.”

“It’s human, I hope,” you open up the dishwasher to slide in each plate.

“You really… didn’t have to make me coffee,” she murmurs.

You peek over at her as she stares into the depths. She seems sad but that might just be the hangover. You continue your work as you reply.

“It was already on. If you’re hungry–”

“Please, no, that’s okay,” she declines with a wave, “I think… I think I’ll just finish this and get an uber. Maybe go call my mom.”

“Well, you let me know if you need anything before you go,” you chime as you hook glasses into the top rack of the dishwasher.

You finish the dishes and grab a damp cloth to go wipe the table down. You stop by a few other surfaces to clear away rings from the finish and return to the kitchen. As you enter from the dining room, Nick appears in the other.

The woman faces him as she grabs her shoes, “hi.”

He growls and lumbers over to the coffee machine. He sees the mug waiting for him and peers into its empty body. You clutch the cloth in your hand as you watch his naked back tense. He wears nothing more than a pair of briefs. At most, you’ve seen him shirtless when he needs some stitches.

“More coffee?” You offer the woman.

“No, I should go,” she peeks at him nervously.

“Alright, well, you take care,” you bid her and take her cup.

“Thanks,” she says and skulks to the door, “bye, Nick.”

“Mmm,” he flicks his fingers at her as he pours himself a cup.

You narrow your eyes at his shoulder blades. That wasn’t very polite. Well, it isn’t your job to be his mother, even if it feels like it sometimes.

You put the almond milk away as he turns to lean in the corner of the counter. He presses the porcelain to his forehead and groans. You shake out the cloth over the sink and rinse it out.

“You have a daughter,” he states plainly. A question but not really.

“I do,” you answer evenly.

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

You shrug, “guess it never came up.”

"You’ve worked for me for three years…” he mutters.

“You never asked,” you say lightly, “it’s fine.”

He lowers the cup and slurps loudly. He swishes the coffee around before he swallows thickly.

“Your husband okay with you working twelves?”

You chuckle, “sir, really, it’s fine.”

His curiosity is not usual. You stick to the expected, the manageable. You don’t stray outside the lines. You’re friendly but you’re not overfamiliar. He always seemed to prefer that. He enjoyed talking about himself far more.

“You were busy yesterday,” he shifts his weight to one foot, his muscled chest rippling.

“I suppose as busy as you,” you roll in the racks of the dishwasher and add soap before closing it up.

“I… interrupted your plans?”

“Sir, it’s fine, I had a good day off and now I’m back,” you insist, “are there any other messes I need to worry about?”

He tilts his head and exhales deeply. His cheek dimples as he considers you. The cut on his head is exposed but not as bad as it was, though the bruise under his eyes has only gotten darker.

He scoffs as a smirk slants his lips, “sure. You could change my bed sheets.”

“Sure,” you accept breezily, repressing the glimmer of concern at the base of your skull. 

Something about his response seems trite, as if he means to insult you. You’re an adult, you’re less than shocked at his after hours play. By now, you’re quite used to it. He’s in his prime, he’s well off, and he’s handsome by anyone’s measure.

“You could try some witch hazel,” you touch your cheek then point at his, “for the bruising.”

“I can handle it,” he retorts and pushes himself away from the counter, “enough chattering. Get to work.”

🥃

You knock on the office door and wait for an answer. The little device you keep clipped to your belt is still buzzing with Nick’s demand. He calls to you from within and you enter.

“Sir?” You greet him.

“What took you so long?” He growls.

He’s in a foul mood. He has been all day. He can be gruff, you’re used to that, but today, he just seems prickly. His romp must not have been much fun. Come to think of it, his partner had been all too eager to flee.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts and clear your throat, “I was in the laundry room. Sorry.”

“My head is pounding,” he rubs his temples.

“Right, sir, I’ll bring you Advil and some water–”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” he snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I’m a lot older than your daughter, so cut it out.”

“I wasn’t– sir, I’m sorry.”

“Go, get the pills,” he shoos you, “and call Rhonda.”

You nod and leave him. Wow. You don’t think he’s ever spoken to you like that. The mention of Joey also puts you off. Why is he so concerned? Most people could look at you and assume you have a kid or too. At your age, with your hips…

You go downstairs to retrieve the Advil and a tall glass of water. You climb back upstairs and follow the airy hall down to your office. As you enter, he sits with his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk. You don’t say a word as you set down the glass and pills.

He doesn’t move. You back away slowly and pull out your cell phone. You’ll call the masseuse, she should be able to work out the tension.

As you get to the door, he growls and his chair squeaks.

“You said something, about witch hazel,” he snarls.

“Uh, yes,” you face him, “it’ll take down the bruising.”

He narrows his eyes, the gesture tweaking his swollen cheek. Even battered, he isn’t unattractive. And the woman in his kitchen was just as gorgeous. So you find it hard to fathom why he’s in such a mood.

“Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” You ask, trying not to sound too pandering.

“Sure, whatever.”

You sweep away and go down the hall to the cabinet. You keep everything stocked well. Part of your job is inventory. You’ll have to go through the liquor bottles later and see what needs replenishing too.

You return to him with the witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls. You place them on his desk as he leans his head against the chairback, his eyes closed. You step back on your heel and his eyes pop open.

“Would you mind?” He motions to his face.

“Sure,” you take the cotton balls and pull one out.

You uncap the dark bottle and dampen the cotton with the liquid. His eyes close again as you sidle closer and you dab gently along his cheek. He flinches, just once, then stills. It must be cold. 

His eyes flick open again and startle you as you retract your touch. Awkwardly, you move away and gather up the bottle and bag of cotton balls. He’s quiet as he leans forward to grab the bottle of pills.

“I should’ve guessed,” he says as he shakes two tablets out, “that’s what I do. I read people. You’re a mother, for sure. She’s older, isn’t she? College? You had her young–”

“Sir,” you sniff, uncomfortable.

“Just the one. And you didn’t answer me when I talked about your husband so he must be out of the picture. Divorced. About the time you came around here, huh? You need the job after the messy break up,” he suggests as he wags his finger with a knowing grin, “probably another woman, huh?”

You blink. You’ll let him think what he wants. His opinion of your marriage isn’t important. It won’t do to correct him anyway. He doesn’t really seem to care, he just wants to wound. You just can’t figure out what you’ve done to deserve it.

[sweetenerobert]

SOBER REALIZATIONS

dom!joel miller x dad!male reader

genre: neighbor joel, no outbreak au, explicit, minors dni

summary: after waking up in joel’s bed — naked, you try your best to ignore him, but joel’s persistence becomes apparent when he interrupts dinner with your daughter.

warnings: infidelity, strong language, fingering, porn with plot, joel is 40, reader is 38, unprotected P in A, dirty talk, outdoor sex, fingering, praise and degrading, cockwarming, choking

word count: 7.8k

a/n: dividers by @firefly-graphics

official playlist

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YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WOKE YOU UP FIRST. THE PAIN-SPLITTING HEADACHE OR THE ACHE AND SORENESS IN YOUR BUTT.

A string of sun rays hit you straight in the face, and you were agitated that it was the morning and that you had to be an adult.

You mumbled and grumbled as you brought your hands up toward your forehead. You knew it wouldn't help with the pain right away, but it would bring some of it down. The hangover you got was coming like a truck, and the sun wasn't doing any favors of slowing the pain down.

Getting up from your bed felt like it would be an impossible task. Your eyes were blurry from the headache in your head. Moving your hands away from your face and down by your side, you took a deep breath and contemplated getting out of —

Your hand hit something on your side, something hard.

You squint your eyes and look to your right, and that's when you see it — a tanned body next to you.

Your eyes open wide as you sit up, and you notice it’s Joel Miller. A married Joel Miller is naked, next to you, who is also naked — and in the same bed he and Adaline share.

You have trouble breathing for a second but then catch the staggering breaths. You slowed down to process the night before.

Going over to Joel’s to drink, getting drunk, the question, then you touching his bulge. Then the city boy, nickname/pet name. Your head yelled at you to stop what was happening, but you ignored it. The rough sex that resulted in you being in Joel’s bed.

You facepalmed before cursing yourself, slowing your head down; you knew you had to get out of his bed while he was sleeping out from the alcohol you both consumed.

You slowly slid toward the edge of the till your feet were near the end of the bed. Softly placing both feet on the wooden floor below you — standing up, you felt pain in your thighs, like an intense vibration.

That sensation made you fall on your knee; you held yourself up the best you could with the bed on your side. It felt like your legs were jelly under your weight, but you had to escape this predicament.

Walking out and down the stairs of Joel’s house was a mission on its own; you almost slipped down his stairs at least twice. Finally, making it on the floor, you see Joel and your clothes sprawled, the two glasses you drank from on the coffee table, and the bottle of rum you bought over — almost empty.

You shook your head and grabbed your clothes, and put them on, hoping that. Marigold, Sarah, or Joel wasn't seeing you naked. As you slipped your clothes on, you heard Joel upstairs, mumbling and grumbling.

Then you heard the floor creak above you, and your eyes widened. You slip your shoes on as fast as possible and slip out of the front door as quickly and quietly as possible. Once outside, you take deep breaths — like you were getting choked.

Hands on your knees and gasping for breath, you feel the bile coming up your throat. Holding in your cheeks, you release the contents in your stomach on the grass next to you. After throwing up, you shuffled your feet toward your front door.

Groaning in pain as you open your door, you notice Sarah and Marigold sleeping on the couch in the living room. You smile at the thought of the girls having a fun/eventful night.

You rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, got a glass of water, opened the ibuprofen, and popped a pill in your mouth, taking a swig of water for the medicine to travel down your throat easier/faster.

Exhaling a breath and looking around your kitchen, you feel defeated that what you did with Joel might eat you alive for a long time.

“C’mon, city boy, let's be an adult.”

“Do you want to go out to eat?” Marigold asks.

You look up from the paperwork you are doing in your kitchen.

“What made you think of that?”

“Well, we barely go out to eat, anyway. I mean, when was the last time we enjoyed dinner, father, and daughter?”

You slowly nod and think about the last time you and Marigold actually went to dinner, she had to be ten the last time, and now she’s fifteen.

You did need a stress reliever from the paperwork; you could always do the paperwork another day; or procrastinate.

“Any suggestions?” You shrug.

Marigold puts her fingers to her chin as if concentrating hard on her answer. But then her eyes light up with astonishment.

“What's that one place where it's like a family-owned business, and they used to give the kids milkshake with Twisler straws?”

You had to think about what she said. Many family-oriented businesses resided in Austin at times, hell you own a bakery your dad wanted to build back when you were a kid. But the milkshake with the Twisler straws made you scratch your head.

“I’m drawing a blank, Mare. Do you remember the letter of the building? Or anything that stuck out to you?” You ask.

“They had light-up letters, with a pattern of blue and red, while the background was blue, and the red and blue lights flashed at times,” Marigold explained.

It was on the tip of your tongue, and you hated that you couldn't immediately remember the name. It had to be something familiar that it almost pissed you off that you couldn't —

You clap your hands with an answer. “Pete’s?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Marigold exclaimed.

“I can't believe I didn't remember that place.”

“Me either,” Marigold breathed.

“Hell yeah, let's go!” You smile. Marigold smiles from ear to ear as you get up from your seat.

“Do you think Sarah has ever been to Pete’s?” Marigold asks.

Your heart sank as you felt cold, grabbing your keys off the coffee table. Involving Sarah would’ve been friendly, but you wanted it to be a father-daughter night. And you knew your daughter; whenever she brings up Sarah, somehow Sarah has joined the party —which you didn't mind, just after last night, you wouldn’t want to see any Miller.

“Maybe, Joel might’ve,” You shrugged.

“Maybe the four of us can go one night,” Marigold smiled.

You nodded, hoping that the conversation would end there. “That sounds nice. You ready to go?” Marigold’s smile beams as she bounces her head.

Out the front door, Marigold races to the passenger seat of your black 1967 Chevrolet Impala and is almost bouncing with anticipation. As you unlock the doors, standing in between the open door and the leather seat, you see Joel and Sarah watching something on the TV and your heart aches. You were happy that Sarah could be with her dad and not worry about anything.

But it destroyed you that you could be what Sarah would have to worry about.

Marigold’s hand finds its way over to the horn and hits her palm smack in the middle. “You coming?”

You snap out of your head and sit in the driver's seat, closing the door and starting the car up, and hearing the engine roar to life.

“When are you going to get a new car? Don't get me wrong, I love this one, but don't you think you deserve something better?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, moving the stick shift to drive. “This car is something better,” You start driving.

You didn't tell Marigold or anyone this, not even your best friend — your ex-wife. It was a gift from your late dad, and you couldn’t simply part from it. So you fixed it, got it working, and now it's yours.

You start driving out of the cul-de-sac, and you notice Marigold already has her headphone in her ears and is texting away. You shake your head and smile as you drive to Pete’s and be hopeful that the night goes smoothly and quickly as you planned it — in your head.

But a part of you wished you had asked who Marigold was texting. A chill ran down your spine as you thought of Mare texting Sarah and Joel would arrive unannounced. But he wouldn't do that, right? Right?

At Pete’s, your worries are off as you pull up in the parking lot, noticing it fills up fast with many cars.

Being seated, you notice that Marigold is bouncing in anticipation; you can't tell if she’s more excited about a milkshake with a Twisler straw or the memories returning to her head. You can't help but smile at how adorable your daughter is acting.

She notices you and stops bouncing.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You, you're adorable,” You comment.

Marigold shakes her head and looks down at the table under her hands. “Your so corny, Dad.”

You chuckle as you hear her mumble; your daughter was always your pride and joy, the main thing you always looked forward to seeing after work was over. Seeing her smile always made your heart melt with happiness.

You notice how noisy Pete’s is, and well, it is summer vacation, and families love this place as much as you and your daughter remember it.

You notice a girl wearing a tight ponytail walking up to your table; here come your daughter’s ants in her pants. She bounces with joy when the girl introduces herself.

“Hello, Welcome to Pete’s; I am Quinn, and I am going to be your server tonight. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

As Quinn takes the notepad from her back pocket, you open your mouth, but Marigold beats you.

“I would like a vanilla milkshake with a Twisler straw, please.”

Quinn writes Marigold's drinks down on the notepad. “And you, sir?”

“Um, I’m driving home tonight, so just water is fine,” You smile.

Quinn finishes writing and nods and smiles her head, shoving her notepad in her pocket. “Okay, I will be right back with your drinks,” She smiles.

The teenage girl walked away with a bit of pep in her step; either she was eager to get our drinks or trying to accomplish her task.

Glancing at Marigold, her phone is on the table, scrolling at something; you can't determine what she’s staring at.

“Whatcha’ starin’ at?” You ask.

Marigold’s neck snaps up. Theirs a hint of blush rushing to her cheeks.

“Nothing important,” Marigold dismissed.

She looks back down at her phone.

“Uh huh, and the fact that your blushing has nothing to do with what you're looking at?” You point out.

Marigold snaps her neck up again and places her palms on her cheeks. She looks panicked as your looking at her but then looks defeated.

“Is this a boy?” You ask, crossing your arms.

When you mention a boy to your daughter, you can see her cheeks get redder and her smile wider. “So this is a boy,” You confirm.

She nods her head with a smile plastered on her face.

“Aww, my little flower is growing up.”

“Dad, stop,” Marigold blushed.

“Does Sarah know him?” You ask.

“Well, yeah! I mean, she knows a little about him, bits and pieces.”

“Well, you should bring him by the bakery one night, so I could finally meet this mystery guy,” You suggest.

“You're not going to be that one dad who interrogates the guy I like, right?”

“Possibly, If he checks all the boxes,” You smile.

Marigold and you are chuckling together, and you can't help but feel happy in the rare moments you can spend time with her; it always makes your day better.

Even though she was growing up, it tugged on your heartstrings that she would be going to college soon, and you wouldn't have these moments with her anymore —

“Okay, here are your drinks,” Quinn arrives with yours and Marigold’s drinks.

She places Marigold’s milkshake before her, and Mare claps like an eager kid; Quinn places your cup of Ice water in front of her, and you shoot her a smile.

“Do you guys know what you're ready to order? Or do you still need another minute?” Quinn asks.

You look at Marigold, who shakes her head no.

“Give us a minute,” You smile.

Quinn smiles and walks away. Marigold glances at the menu under her hands; you look at the menu under you while your hands are between your thighs.

“Have any idea of what you want to get?” Marigold questions.

“Um, no, I don’t, you?” You pick your head up.

“I’m conflicted between the pasta or the chicken tenders.”

“Well, since I’m a child; I suggest the chicken tenders.”

Looking up, you noticed Sarah and Joel standing next to Marigold. Marigold jumped out of her seat to hug Sarah while you awkwardly smiled at Joel.

“Oh my gosh, what are you guys doing here?” Marigold asks, breaking the hug from Sarah.

“Well, I showed Dad our texts, and he had the bright idea to come to surprise you guys,” Sarah smiled.

“Of course, he did,” You thought.

“Well, it's a nice surprise,” You smile.

“Yes, it is. Come on guys, sit, sit,” Marigold commands.

“Okay,” Sarah giggles.

Sarah wastes no time sitting next to her best friend. She’s smiling from ear to ear as she side-hugs your daughter. Joel comes and sits next to you; you shuffle to the side, and your shoulder connects with the wall next to you.

“I’m sorry if we interrupted father-daughter time,” Joel apologizes.

“It's okay; I’m pretty sure Marigold would rather hang out with her best friend than her old dad,” You comment.

“Nonsense, Dad, I love you both equally,” Marigold smiles.

You grab Marigold’s hand and smile.

Quinn arrives with a smile plastered on her face.

“Okay, guys, and — woah, I didn't know you were here.”

“Surprise,” You and Sarah shrug.

“Well then, it’s a nice surprise. Do you guys want anything to drink?” Quinn asks.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Sarah points towards Marigold.

“A beer,” Joel answered.

“Coming right up,” Quinn smiles and walks away.

“But you're driving home,” You spoke.

“I know how to sober fast, city boy,” Joel comments.

“City boy? That’s a new one.” Marigold chuckles.

“I like it; it makes sense, considering you guys lived in a city before you moved here,” Sarah Acknowledges.

“Mare told you about that, Sarah?” You question.

“Mhm,” Sarah nods.

You nod. Thinking about what Marigold had told Sarah—hopefully only good things.

“I promise I haven't told Sarah anything embarrassing,” Marigold admits.

“Well, besides the fact that you sing in the shower as if you were doing a live concert,” Sarah smirks.

Your mouth drops in a playful grin.

“Marigold,” You exclaim.

“C’mom, Dad, you didn't expect me to bring that up.”

“No, I didn't. Sarah would’ve had to see it as everyone else does — also, thanks for signing me up bake one hundred cupcakes,” You roll your eyes.

“Hey, those cupcakes are amazing and neighbors need to know how good they are — besides me.”

“You are aware I own a bakery, right?”

“Not the type of man to have a sweet tooth, but for city boy. I’ll have any cake he makes; any cake of his,” Joel interrupts.

You couldn't tell if he was genuine or flirting with you, but he hid it well with that smirk. But you know you have butterflies in your stomach that you don't need now.

He brings his arm around your shoulder on top of the leather seat. You feel his arm on the back of your neck, and you sense his legs move as he spreads his legs apart.

It's like he’s teasing you in your mind. Making you remember what you did that last time he spread his legs apart.

Your spine shivers as your daughters are talking to one another. You could feel his gaze on you as you were looking for any means of escape, you didn’t want to cause a scene but you knew you had to leave but how —

“Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?” You ask Joel.

“No city boy, lemme get out of your way. Joel fixes his position and slides out of the leather seat. You slide out and try to hide your speed walk away from the table.

Pushing your hand to open the bathroom door, you noticed the bathroom was empty. Breathing heavily, you grab the porcelain sink.

You couldn't tell if Joel was making you confused or frustrated.

But breathing heavily in a bathroom was a reaction you didn't know would come out. A low scream: maybe. You want to pinch yourself: the low possibility of doing that was on the floor. But heavy breathing was off the table.

You had no idea how to feel, but you didn't want to let that interfere with the dinner with your daughter. But this feeling you couldn’t describe, and with Joel just next to you, it was going to explode one way or another, and you weren't ready for —

You hear the door open behind you; you snap your neck up from the sink to the mirror in front of you. You see Joel in the reflection behind you. You shake your head as you don't want to look at him, simply imagining that he walked in here, but once you stop shaking your head, he’s still there, looking at you.

“Everything alright, city boy?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, peachy,” You breathed.

“Are you sure? You got away from the table fast—”

“Why’d you come here?” You asked, turning around.

“It’s a good place for the girls to talk to each other and — I just needed to talk to you,” Joel admitted.

“You could’ve talked to me any other day, but the day after, we —” You stopped talking to look in the bathroom stalls.

After calming yourself down by confirming the empty bathroom, you continued your sentence.

“Had sex in your house.”

“I needed to figure somethin’ out.”

“What, Joel?” You ask.

Joel stepped closer to you, at least four feet from your position. “How did it feel afterward?”

One of the questions you were going to regret answering; How did it feel to have sex with a married man? Honest answer; fantastic. Lie; awful, you're the reason I threw up.

You obviously couldn't answer with either because Joel wanted to hear the correct answer, but you couldn't spit out the lie without it sounding fictitious.

“What are you trying to prove, Joel?”

“City boy, I’m attempting to figure something out,”

“What? What is so important that you interrupted my dinner with my daughter?”

Joel stepped closer to you, your chests were practically touching.

“How was the mind-blowing sex we had last night feel?” Joel growled.

He knew he didn't have to word it like that — at all, but he needed an answer; the truth.

“I. . hated. . it,” You gritted.

“Really? City boy?”

“Yes.”

Joel leans his head towards yours — lips barely touch each other; you can feel him ferociously exhale from his nostrils.

“City boy, if your lyin’ to me, I’m going to have to punish you, and you know how rough I can be,” Joel breathes.

You had to hold back on the temptations, and he wanted your reaction. Joel wanted you to fold, but you were prone to think with your head than your intrusive thoughts.

“Joel, what happened last night, it was great — fantastic even, but you’re married; you understand that, right?” You stated.

“We’re not even together enough. Adaline sees me as more of a business partner than an actual husband. What you and I have is so much more —”

“We’ve been together one night, Joel; how do you know that what happened last night wasn't just a mistake?”

“Because city boy, I’ve never felt more electricity ever in my life until that night. I’m pretty sure you haven't felt the same, too,” Joel commented.

He wasn't wrong; your body was on overdrive that night; you thought it was just adrenaline — it could’ve been both: electricity and adrenaline.

“Joel, think about our daughters — their best friends if they catch us; your daughter — Sarah, could hate me forever, and my daughter might hate me for ruining her friendship with Sarah. I can't do that, Joel.”

You try to walk away, but Joel grabs your hand. His rough hands contrast with your sweaty palms. Joel didn't grab your hand with force, but you didn't pull out, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Your worth the risk; 'I’d divorce Adaline just to be with you.”

“Don’t make any empty promises. I’m so sick of hearing those—just false hope your feeding me,” You spoke.

“I’m not the type to do that, city boy. You’re too important.”

“Your family should be more important than some second-rate-world-class-hooker that could ruin everything you worked so hard for,” You confessed.

Trying to walk away, Joel pulled you closer to him, and you both bumped chests. Joel wasted no time kissing you with such force and determination. Your reasoning almost went out the window with that electrifying kiss.

Keyword: almost.

Your lips melted together like a puzzle piece. Your arms found their way around his tall shoulders. Joel’s hands slid from your lower back to your ass. He gripped your ass so hard a yelp escaped from your mouth and into Joel’s mouth.

Joel was mad at you for calling yourself a “hooker.” The fact that you could call yourself that made Joel filled with rage. He wanted to spank the shit out of you to learn your lesson, having to control himself in the porcelain walls of the bathroom the best he could.

Joel backed his lips away from you, heavy breaths escaping as he was fuming, trying to calm himself down. “Never call yourself that again, you understand me,” Joel snapped.

You want to nod, but trying to control yourself, you shake your head. “Why did you do that, Joel?”

“Would you have rathered the east route or the hard route?” Joel asked.

“Neither; you should've just let me walk away.”

“And lose the chance of explaining myself to you? I did the right thing,” Joel expressed.

“No, Joel, you didn't, god this is messed up.”

You try walking away again, but Joel’s hand is still in your grasp; this time, you try to leave his grip, but he’s holding on, not ready to let go.

“Joel—”

“Come by tonight,” Joel breathes.

“To do what?”

“I just need to see if what happened last night was a fluke. I want to see,” Joel admitted.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Come around the back. I’ll meet you there,” Joel nodded.

Joel, let go of your hand. You resume leaving the bathroom and walking toward the table, where you see Sarah and Marigold conversing. You slide into your seat, breaking the girl's conversation.

“Everything okay, Dad?” Marigold asked.

You nod.

“Well, we ordered for you, considering I know what you like,” Marigold smiled.

“Thanks, sweetie,” You exclaim.

Joel shuffles into his seat after coming back from the bathroom. You didn't know what he did after he left, and you didn't care now. You were just happy to be with your daughter and her best friend.

“Hey, Sarah, if you wouldn’t mind, Marigold would love it if you spent the night again,” You started.

“Wait, what?” Marigold asks.

“Are you sure, sir?”

You nod. “It's summer vacation; the two girls in our lives deserve some fun,” You smirk.

“Thanks, Dad,” Marigold laughs.

Marigold and Sarah start talking in their world. You look toward Joel, and he gives you a look of confusion. You lean towards his ear.

“When you beg, it's weird. Don't do that again, I prefer Joel from last night.”

You wink at him as you back your head up from his ear; Joel leans closer to you, and you can feel his exhale leave his nostrils against your ear.

“Let me give you a preview of what tonight is gonna ensue.”

Joel slides his hands onto your thigh. You hitch a breath as he slides down your inner thigh and rubs up closer to the outline of your cock. Your hands find their way to the table before you; you trail your finger on the condensation on the water cup before you.

“You like that, city boy?” Joel whispers. You wanted to kiss him, hell, even moan, but your girls were sitting in front of you.

Joel slid his hand off your thigh, and your cock strained on your zipper. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab your cup of water to try to calm down.

The girls had already made their way up to Marigold’s bedroom. While you sat in the living room, waiting for some indication from Joel to come over there. You felt like a schoolgirl carrying this huge secret. You sat with your phone in your hand — screen black having no confidence in your gut like before at Pete’s in the bathroom with Joel.

What if you were over your head and never wanted this huge secret creeping down your neck? You could just —

Your phone screen lit up with a text from Joel.

Joel: You comin?

You didn't even text him back; you left your phone on the counter and got up from the couch, and walked out — slowly closing the door behind you so the girls didn't come downstairs.

The crickets and cicadas chirp in the night air as the stars twinkle above your head. A slight breeze sends a shiver down your spine as you cross the street. You’ve seen the door to the house that Joel, Adaline, and Sarah shared many times, but you weren't going through that door.

You went to the side of the house and quietly stalked, as you didn't want any of Joel’s neighbors to notice you. You heard mumbling and grumbling in the back; peaking your head around the corner, you saw Joel’s face illuminated by his phone screen. He must have been annoyed that you haven't texted him back.

“Can't even answer a simple question. You don't know what you’re doin’ to me, city boy,” Joel grumbled.

You could’ve made some excuse to Joel when you see him the next day. You honestly didn't know if you wanted to be here or not. It was a puzzle in a video game — no matter how many times you go through each possibility, you always land with the same outcome.

Doing the mature thing was the best outcome of an alternative. You could find another person you could mess around with — though that always felt like a needle in a haystack, you always found something to work for you — until it didn't.

“Just turn around and leave,” You thought, turning around.

As you turn around, your arm hits the house next to you, and a loud thud vibrates against the house. Joel snaps his neck towards the sound and calls out for you.

“City boy? You there?”

You facepalm and huff a breath, doing another 180 turns and walking towards Joel. You cross your arms as your whole body now feels cold. “I was wonderin’ where you were. Didn't you get my texts?”

“No, I left my phone at home.”

“Ahh, understandable,” Joel nods.

“In what way?” You ask.

Joel steps up to you and crosses his arm in front of you. “C’mon, city boy, I gotta think of a good enough punishment for ignoring me this whole day.”

“I wasn't ignoring you,” You comeback.

You were trying to ignore him. You didn't want to see him for at least a week.

“City boy, are you lyin’ to me again?” Joel questions.

“No,” You huff.

“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk,” Joel breathed. He chuckled at the end of his Tsking. He was wiping the corners of his mouth.

“Let me ask again,” Joel started.

Before you can open your mouth again, Joel’s hand finds its way onto your bulge. You hitch a breath as you place your hands on Joel’s biceps. You tried to move Joel’s hand, but it was like his hand was welded onto your crotch — not moving.

“Are you lyin’ t’me again, city boy?” Joel questions.

“Yes, god, yes, now move your hand.”

“N-no, I’m not,” You breathe. You were getting hard under Joel’s strong hand; his touch was addictive — you wanted an out, but it was just too good.

“Seems like your cock, is betrayin’ you, city boy. I’m going to have to punish you,” Joel growled.

“How?” You ask.

“Like this,” Joel nods. Joel moves his hand and shoves you toward the pool next to you. Ears muffled with water, your vision blurry as you stand up; you see Joel standing with his arms crossed, looking down at you.

“You asshole!” You exclaimed.

“Shouldn’t have lied, city boy,” Joel shrugs.

“I could've drowned!”

“The water’s like five feet.”

“Whatever, damn. It’s cold as hell.”

“Hold on, I'm comin’,” Joel states.

Joel bends down in front of you with his hand extended. As you grab him, you pull hard towards you. “Oh sh—”

Joel’s coming in, making a big splash. You laugh as he goes under. You can't control your laugh as Joel stands up and looks at you. He looks angry. The dark grey shirt he’s wearing clings to his chest. His nipples hardened under the damp cloth.

“You think this is fuckin’ funny? What if my phone was in my pocket?” Joel asks.

“It would’ve made me laugh even harder,” You nodded.

“Oh yeah, city boy?”

“Yeah,” You keep laughing.

Joel’s scowl could kill you with how hard he’s staring at you. You can't contain your laughter; it's as if Joel said the world's funniest joke.

You tried your hardest to stop laughing, but the laughs escaped your lips. Joel looked furious at you as he was standing there, dripping, fuming at the predicament you put him through.

Joel trudged his feet towards you, looking like he was on a mission; as he walked towards you, your laughs finally died down — but you still had a smile on your face.

Joel wrapped his hand around your throat as he placed his lips on yours — hard. You moaned in shock; you weren't expecting this hard of a kiss from Joel and the pleasure that came along with it.

His grip on your throat was tight. You wrapped your hand around Joel’s, and you could feel his veins almost jump out of his hand.

“Joel — can't breathe,” You cracked.

Joel loosened his grip around your throat — but his hand was still around your throat. The water around you seemed like they were roaring to life with how much passion you and Joel were experiencing. Joel’s rough exterior was cracking piece by piece — slowly as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. You slid your hand around Joel’s neck, bringing yourself closer to him.

Your moans radiated off Joel’s mouth as they were being muffled by the water splashing around the two of you. With how much water was moving between the passionate kisses you and Joel shared, you could’ve had a tsunami in the backyard.

As Joel still had his hand wrapped around his throat, his other arm had wrapped around the curve of your back, exposing your skin towards the cold pool wall.

You hiss as your skin makes contact with the pool wall, stopping the kiss with Joel suddenly.

“You all good, city boy?”Joel asks.

“Yeah, my back hit the wall, just cold.”

Joel lifts you and makes you sit on the pool's edge —with your feet still in the pool. He pushes himself up and walks past you as you watch him escape towards the back door.

Your whole body starts to shiver as you wait for Joel. You rub your hands together like you were sitting by the fire on a cold day, but you weren't. You were sitting on the edge of Joel’s pool — feet still dipped in on a warm summer night.

You cross your arms, hugging yourself so you can feel warm. Your mouth chatters, and your body starts to shake. You look up and notice the stars are looking down at you as you're looking up at them.

You could get lost in the stars for hours at this time of night. But unfortunately, you didn't have hours. You knew the sun would rise soon and ruin this illusion.

You hear Joel’s backdoor close, but you don't turn around. Neck strained up and shivering, you didn't want to make sudden movements to make yourself colder.

Joel wraps a towel over your shoulder. You almost jump, feeling the material on your covered shoulders.

“There you go, city boy,” Joel states, sitting beside you, placing his covered feet in the pool — towel-wrapped around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” You shiver.

“No problem.”

Joel notices you looking up and not at him. He strained his neck to see what you were staring at.

“What are ya looking at?” Joel asks.

“Just the stars,” You answer.

“What’s special about ‘em?” Joel asks.

You scoff before answering. “I’ve always thought someone would never kiss me under the stars — I know, such a baby thing, but I’ve always yearned for it. So that pool kiss was a thought that fluttered in my mind.”

“I was going to fuck you back here. If you’d look down at my dick, you’d notice that my cock was hurtin’ against my jeans,” Joel starts.

You stop looking towards the stars and then towards Joel.

“Wanted to hear those pretty moans again, right in my ear. Hell, thinkin’ about it right now, my cock is throbbing so hard.”

You can't stop your eyes from glancing at his bulge. You can tell that it wasn't the fabric of his jeans. It was his actual bulge rubbing against his jeans. You could feel his pain as your cock was growing hard in your damp jeans.

You lick your lips out of comfort rather than pleasure.

Joel’s eyes are still glancing down at his aching cock. You didn't know if you wanted a repeat of the last twenty-four hours with Joel, but you were sober, so you had to think about your situation with a clear state of mind.

“Unbuckle your belt.”

“What?” Joel asks.

“Take off your belt, Joel. I‘m helpin’ you out again,” You smirk.

All mature thoughts must've left your head when Joel kissed you in the bathroom or when he threw you in the pool, choked you, and kissed you. But right here and now, you wanted Joel’s cock again. You knew you were going to regret it in the morning. But that would be you in the morning; this is you at midnight — running on adrenaline and satisfaction.

Joel had undone his belt as you take your feet out of the pool and waste no time leaning on your knees.

Joel’s pants were around his knees, but his boxers constricted his dick. You could see his cock throbbing and his precum through the material in his underwear.

“Remind you of anythin’, city boy?”

You scoff at Joel. You fixed his boxers for his cock to go through the hole. Lines of pre cum leaking through the slit of his huge cock.

Your mouth takes Joel’s length, and he throws his head back in pleasure. You taste Joel’s pre cum and the mix of pool water on your tastebuds. You could hear Joel’s breathing rushing through his teeth like he was ready to explode.

“Fuck, baby boy. I missed that mouth,” Joel groaned.

You started to go faster, and your throat kept getting tighter as you almost gagged on Joel’s cock. Joel’s hand found its way to the back of your head. His hand was making your pace go faster, and his balls tingled with more satisfaction than he could handle

“Oh fuck, baby. I could cum in that pretty mouth right now.”

You slow down as you want this experience to last for a long time.

Joel's hands slid down from your head to the curve of your back to under your pants and underwear. You could feel his rough and calloused hands on your ass. You moan on Joel’s cock as he slips one of his fingers into your ass.

His actions started slow and pleasurable for you.

“So fuckin’ tight, city boy. I’m gonna bury my cock so far into that boy pussy ‘f yours,” Joel growled.

You pick your head up and stroke Joel’s cock. You place your lips on him as his finger picks up the pace. He’s going faster, and you can barely keep stroking his cock. Your moans are bouncing off Joel’s lips.

His cock was throbbing in your hand. It felt like Joel was on overdrive. His kisses felt hungry, desperate, and all-around passionate.

“Turn around, baby. I miss eatin’ that ass out,” Joel grunted.

As you back away from Joel’s lips, you see the string of saliva coming from your lips and his. You unbuckle your pants before you turn around on your hands and knees — your ass is now facing Joel.

You hear a mumble and grunt from Joel as you hear the water dribbling off his shoes and pants. You feel Joel’s hands slap your ass hard — you yelp in retaliation.

Joel’s mouth makes contact with your hole, and you moan. You could tell Joel was hungry — starving. You could cum with how Joel’s tongue was in your ass. You clench your fists as Joel is working wonders for your ass.

“Damn, Joel. That feels so amazing,” You moan.

“I’ve been missin’ this sweet peach since last night.”

Joel smacks your ass again and again and again.

You could feel the sting on your ass cheeks as you feel Joel’s tongue again. You were getting greedy. You wanted Joel’s cock buried in your ass — you wanted to feel what his cock would feel like sober and not drunk.

“Joel,” You breathe.

“Yeah, city boy?” Joel breathes.

“Can you please fuck me?”

Joel gets his mouth away from your ass, and you look back at him — straining your neck.

“What happened to my city boy? Beggin’ for my cock, like that? Soundin’ kinda needy again,” Joel growled.

“Fuck you,” You shudder. You turn your head back and lay your head on your hands. You wanted the same feeling from last night. Joel’s cock couldn't compare to your old hookups.

You almost scream as you feel Joel’s cock slowly go inside you. You pick your head up and clench your teeth in pleasure.

“Ahh, fuck, city boy. How do you keep gettin’ so fuckin’ tight?” Joel growls.

You don't answer; you hold your head up as you look back at Joel. You have a flashback from last night as you see Joel’s shit-eating grin. His hips started going back and forth, and with each thrust, you could feel his cock stretch you out — slowly.

Joel’s hands were on your waist — rough. It felt like he could mark his territory with his hands there. You moaned, but you didn't want to give the whole neighborhood an unpaid show — you suppressed them the best you could, but with every thrust, your moans would slip from your mouth.

“Baby boy, your takin’ my cock so well,” Joel grunted.

“I missed it so much, Joel,” You breathed.

“My cock has missed your tight ass, city boy.”

Joel’s grip from your waist released, and he picked you up from the front of your neck so your back collided with his chest — wrapping his arm around your neck, not tight. You could feel Joel’s breath on your ear, and you felt like you could cum right then and there.

Joel’s hand made hard contact with your ass, you moaned in retaliation, and you could hear Joel’s grunts as he pumped his cock in and out of you.

“J-Joel?” You started.

“Yeah, city boy?”

“I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, city boy? Cum for me,” Joel command.

You haven't even touched your dick ever since Joel started fucking you, but you knew you were close to having an orgasm. It was a feeling that felt different sober than drunk.

You could feel your cum almost shoot out of your hardened cock, and you almost broke your neck, placing your head on Joel’s shoulder. Joel takes the opportunity to kiss you. Joel was still hungry, and he wasn't full yet. Joel’s hand wraps around your cock and starts to stroke you. You moan in his mouth — it was the hottest thing you ever experienced, and you didn't want it to stop.

You pick your head up, and Joel attacks your neck like a vampire; you are on the brink of cumming, and his neck kisses are helping you have more pleasure and satisfaction.

“I can feel your cock twitch in my hands, city boy. Y’gonna cum, baby?” Joel growls.

“Yes, oh god, Joel, yes!” You whimpered.

A married man is the first person to make you whimper — to feel overstimulated. You knew you shouldn't like this, but your mind went blank the second Joel’s cock was inside you.

“That’s so fuckin’ hot, baby,” Joel grunted.

Hearing Joel’s voice in your ear again was enough for you.

“F-Fuck, Joel. I’m cumming.”

Your moans kept escaping from your lips; were they loud? Maybe. But you didn't care; you were feeling so much pleasure you wanted people in space to hear you.

Strings of white cum littered the concrete below — and Joel’s hand. Joel hearing your moans, thought he had cum under all the pleasure you were screaming. He was still hard as a rock — on the verge of cumming. But he wanted to treat you right and make you feel good.

Joel dislodged his cock from your ass as you pant on your hands and knees.

“Is something wrong?” You ask.

You turn your head — still panting and notice Joel’s pants and underwear aren't around his ankles anymore, but his boots are still on, laced up.

“Can you stand, city boy?” Joel questions, standing up.

You try to pick yourself up, but the same feeling from this morning comes back like a truck, and you are back on your knees.

“No,” You shake your head.

You didn't notice Joel’s smirk on his face; you were too busy feeling ashamed if you did something wrong. Joel’s cock was still hard and stiff. He huffed a breath as he picked you up bridal style. “Wanted to make sure that city boy knows that those moans you were screaming are for my ears and my ears only,” Joel hisses.

You are back inside Joel's house — in the same familiar setting as last night. Joel had removed your pants and underwear before you returned inside, and your casual shoes were still on your feet. Joel placed you on the same couch you both fucked on hours before.

Joel’s one-sided grin on his face made your cock twitch. Joel had lifted your pelvis and had his cock hovered over your hole.

He had one boot on the couch and one on the floor.

Joel didn't waste a second; he just shoved his cock inside you.

Your moans exploded, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Joel’s hips were going up and down, and he was throwing his head back in pleasure.

“FFFF—Fuckin’ Christ, city boy. I missed this boy pussy so badly,” Joel gruffed. Joel’s hands on your thighs were under his palms, and he was grasping them like a stress ball.

“Is that why you brought me inside? To tell me you missed my boy pussy?”

Joel fixed his position so that he was inches away from your face. Both boots were on the couch, while your calves were on either side of Joel’s head.

Joel started to pump his cock in and out of you. Your moans radiated all over the house's walls — the sound barrier could break.

“I needed those pretty little noises you make inside — don’t want the neighbors to think I’m murderin’ you,” Joel grinned.

“As if — you could — mmph — ever murder me, — FFFF-ucking hell Joel.”

You roll your head to the side and shut your eyes as you feel every inch, every thrust, every grunt, and every time you can feel Joel’s cock throb inside you. It was electrifying — adrenaline-inducing, like last night.

You snap your eyes open as you feel Joel move your neck to look towards him. His hand still wrapped around your throat — you can see lust and pleasure in his eyes.

Joel had determination written on his face as he breathed through his teeth, pumping his cock Inside you. You could swear you could feel Joel’s cock hit your stomach — your moans became hitched as Joel nearly exploded. His grip around your throat got a little tight for you.

It was hard to get a good breath in your hand found it's way towards Joel’s wrapped around your throat.

“Jo-Joel, can barley breathe,” You breathed.

Joel realized his mistake — keeping the same pace before unwrapping his hand off your throat and placing it on the side of your face.

“I’m sorry, city boy. I’m just so close, I’m do fuckin’ close, city boy,” Joel clenched his teeth.

His forehead was on yours, and he quickly picked up his pace.

“Oh fuck baby, I’m going to get you pregnant with how much cum is gonna be inside you,” Joel growled.

“Please, Joel, give it to me! Get me pregnant!” You moan.

With a couple of thrusts, you could feel Joel’s warm cum inside you. He moaned, and your cock twitched at the sound of it. His whole body shook once, twice, and then he rested his body on top of yours. His cock was still inside you. He just wanted to rest for a second.

“City boy, your pussy is so fuckin’ amazing. I can never get tired of it,” Joel breathed.

“You’re funny,” You panted.

You and Joel couldn't help but feel safe and comfortable. Last night, you both fell asleep, but now this is a vulnerable setting you weren't used to.

“I didn't hurt you. I- I didn't mean to hurt you anyway, city boy.”

“You're okay, Joel. It was a little different, but I’m okay,” You admitted.

“Good, that's great.”

Joel's friendly personality went back into his dominant personality as he slipped his cock out of you and picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?”

“Your punishment isn't over, city boy — far from it.” Joel spat. Joel started to walk with you over his shoulder, and you could only guess what punishment he planned.

taglist: @alt2606 @evans55 @traningdummy @odetodilfs @strang3lov3 @groggygrogu @psychoticzaddysimp

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[mentality-project]

Carry Me Home - Part 2

Morpheus x fem!reader

While being tucked into bed by the King of the Nightmare Realm was lovely, waking up with a hangover from Hell was not.

A pitiful groan works its way up your throat as you roll over to the cool side of your bed, trying to find relief for your overheated skin. You kick off the blanket as you snuggle into the cold, trying to will your body back to sleep as you chase after the last scene of your dream.

After a few more moments of tossing and turning, you admit defeat and blink open weary eyes. Once the waking world comes into focus, the sight of painkillers and a tall glass of water on your beside table greet you.

It could only be Morpheus’ doing. You weren’t capable of such forethought last night. With a grimace on your face, you drag yourself upright enough to pop the pills in your mouth and chase them down with a gulp of water. Its at the temperature of ice water despite the lack of condensation and you could cry from the relief it brings your parched throat.

“Fuckkk…I love you, Morph.” you mumble against the rim of your glass as you lean back against the headboard.

“He loves it when you say that.”

The speed at which you turn your head towards the raven perched at the end of your bed nearly gives you whiplash.

“How the fuck did you get in?”

“The bathroom window was open.”

“Oh.”

You and Matthew sit in comfortable silence as you continue to sip your glass of heavenly water.

“What did you mean by that?”

“What?”

You shoot Matthew a death stare over the rim of your glass.

“Oh, the boss loves it every time you say you love him. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

You nearly snort water out of your nose. “Dream? Warm and fuzzy? Seriously?”

“I am being serious!” Matthew’s feathers puff up with indignation, "Every time you say those words, Dream becomes a much more lenient boss. He takes whatever opportunity he can get to be close to you." "That's..." you clear you throat, wishing there was some water left in your glass, "That's a lot of information before breakfast."

"Sorry, kid. Rough night?"

"Fun night, rough hangover." you manage a grin as you set the empty glass back down, "Wanna stick around for a cuppa tea, Matthew?"

"I'd love to."

"Cool. Be a dear and boil the kettle for me, would you? There should be enough water in it. I'm gonna have a quick shower first, feel free to help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Matthew swoops out the door as you drag yourself off to the bathroom.

--- You hear the sound of the kettle switch flicking off and the rumble of boiling water as you round the corner, drying your hair off with the towel draped around your shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asks from his spot on the kitchen counter.

"Definitely," you sigh as you hang the damp towel over the back of one of the chairs, "What kind of tea do you fancy today, Matthew?"

"Earl Grey, please." "Milk, sugar?"

"Yes to both." You take two mugs out of the cupboard, pausing as you notice the small parcel by the kettle. It has your name on it.

"What's this?" you ask as you tug at the string to unwrap it.

"Hangover cure from the Boss."

"Dream was here?" you blink over your shoulder at Matthew.

"Nah, he had me send it over. Under strict instructions to make sure that you drink it. Not allowed to come back until you do."

No wonder Matthew agreed to stick around for breakfast. You almost snort with laughter as you unfold the wrapping, which turns out to also be a handwritten note from Dream. Upon seeing the size of the cloth teabag, you swap your mug for a tea bowl and begin to read as you pour the hot water into it.

Your Grace,

The corners of your mouth creep up into a smile. Could it be? Do you share an inside joke with the Dream Lord now?

According to the dreams of the best apothecaries in the Waking World over the last millennia, this tea contains the best herbs to help alleviate the aftermath of overindulging in alcohol. I hope it is of use to you. - Morpheus

You are practically glowing as you lift the note to your lips and press a kiss to the parchment.

"I love you." your whisper, watching in amazement as the note dissipates into sand and stardust.

You lift the bowl to your lips, taking care to blow a couple of times before taking a careful sip, eyes widening in surprise.

"Huh...not bad."

"Where's mine?" Matthew squawks in an accusatory tone.

"Sorry, sorry."

You get to work brewing Matthew his cuppa, changing your mind about the kind of mug you originally picked and deciding on a wide teacup to make drinking more convenient for him. You ratio the water and milk out so the tea is at the perfect drinking temperature before placing the drink in front of him and heading over to the toaster.

"Would you like some toast, Matthew?"

"Sure, I'll have a slice."

"What do you want on it?"

"Got any butter?"

You retrieve the tub of butter from the fridge, along with some avocado and smoked salmon for yourself - that combo with a sprinkle of black pepper has you in a chokehold lately. After you butter Matthew's toast accordingly, you rip it up into bite-sized pieces before sliding the plate towards him. Matthew murmurs his thanks before digging in with gusto. You lean your head against your palm as your elbow presses into the countertop, watching Matthew as you chew your own mouthful of toast, contemplating. Eventually, you're brave enough to break the silence.

"Why'd you tell me all that stuff?"

"Hmm?" Matthew buries his beak in his tea, the hum being the only indication that he heard you.

"About Morph, and how...how he feels about me...?" "Honestly?" Matthew stares you down and you stare back at him, "there's only so much one can take of watching the slowest slow-burn ever." You gulp down on your tea so fast you start to choke on it.

"C'mon kid, between you and me, you know you've gotta be the one to say something. The Boss has all the time in the world. He's Endless. By the time he works up the courage to make first move, you'll be dead and buried. No offence."

"None taken." you mumble around a mouthful of toast. There's not much conversation after that and you're quite content to eat the rest of your breakfast in silence. Matthew's given you a lot to think about. -- "Hey Boss, how's it going? (Y/N) drank that tea you sent her, all of it. And...Boss? Hey, you okay? Boss?"

Matthew tilts his head at the sight of Morpheus on his throne, but for all his trying, Morpheus doesn't appear to hear the loyal raven.

No, he's far too occupied with the lingering feeling of your kiss pressed into his cheek from his stardust, fingertips still on his cheekbone as if he's trying to keep the feeling there. In his other hand, the parchment materialises, your words scrawled in the smallest print as if it is a secret:

'I love you.'

[darylsfavoritegirl]

HEYYYY IM HONESTLY SO FUCKING EXCITED WHAT DO YOU THINK ABT THESE HEADCANONS bc i wanted to do smth like for a while i just never could come up with anything but its easy in a sense sooo here you gooou

SFW

• I don't think his mommy issues are necessarily sexual, sometimes you would do something that would invoke that "motherly" "safe" or "warm" feeling inside of him. He would never be able to understand what it was or would tell anyone about it. It'd be one of the reasons why he'd care for you as much as he did. You'd make him feel safe by saying something or embracing your arms around him in a certain way which would make him commemorate his mother, though because his mom died when he was young, he wouldn't be able to understand it at all bc he doesn't consciously remember those moments with her. This man fr would think you'd cast a spell on him :D

• I just know this man is a feminist in the core. Growing up, he'd always hear Merle running his mouth about women and how they were like this and they were like that, overall his ignorant, blunt, dumb thoughts about women. He would witness his dad going off on benders with different women each time and how he'd vulgarly talk about them later. And hell maybe he's disrespected women or been really cruel to them but he still regrets it to this time and yeah we all know this man suffers in redemption, always trying to make up for his past mistakes and wrongs. Yet I'm %100 sure he loves seeing women thrive, turning into their best selves or just witness them be real badass and it might even give him some kind of arousal 👀👀. He is into that shit. I said what I said.

• One of his love languages is definitely showing you the places he'd used to spend his time in. Could be a special spot in the woods, could be a small cabin he'd used to get lit with people. Hell it could be random corner in town whenever you'd have to be in downtown for various reasons. He wouldn't even mind if those places brought him bad memories or unpleasant ones. He'd just like being there with you, doing whole ass story times and watch you react them with a wide-eyed expression. He did have a weird and a "crazy" life before the fall that'd make him feel like he was on mushrooms everytime just thinking about it. He'd love letting you know more and more about his past. It would just give him a reassuring feeling deep down. He would feel like it would bound you two together.

• That.man.has.a.sweet.tooth. He loves anything that has sugar. He'd always snack on candies or cookies or chocolates after a hangover. Or when he'd be on drugs. Sugar wakes him the fuck up and he loves the energy boost. He'd carry some candies in his pocket back in the day, eating them throughout the day when he'd feel his blood sugar dropping.

• He is definitely a car-date type of guy. He got more into it after the apocalpyse started and he met you. Sometimes you'd go on runs and you could sit in the car for hours, smoking, eating, talking or yk👀👀 if supplies you found weren't an emergency need. He absolutely savored those moments. You could sit for hours without speaking, in a complete silence. He appreciates quietude.

NSFW

• I know him having a breeding kink is well known and acknowledged but he's insane about it that it hurts. He loves seeing you all squirmed and whiny underneath him with all his cum inside of you, some of it dripping down your thighs. You couldn't always find the right pills for unplanned pregnancy risk and it WOULD drive him crazy to not be able to it.

• He just loves to see you messy beneath him. Hair all tangled, thighs shaking uncontrollably. Your fingers digging so deep on his shoulders that you'd cause his broad shoulders to bleed sometimes, he loved it. Your eyes are all glossy with pleasure. You both would love to go wild and leave sloppy kisses on eachother's bodies and wouldn't mind them drying on your bodies at all, leaving it all sticky.

• He loves being submissive as much as he loves being dominant. You can't convince me otherwise. If you gained his trust, he will be all yours, all needy beneath you while you ride his soul out of his damn body. Again, he adores a badass woman, a woman to take the lead. You would place your hands on his chest and sometimes hold his strong large biceps and he wouldn't dare to move an inch. He liked being vulnerable like that.

• He is just so patient it physically throws you over the edge. He'd get so close making you cum and he'd stop, teasing you with his tip or fingers or sometimes his tongue. He'd smirk at you and even make fun of you in a taunting way to overstimulate you and don't worry he'd make up for it with better ways. He knows what he is doing. It's just come natural to him.

• It's safe to say you are the one who teases him in the public most of the time, your feet tracing his legs up until it stops on his bulge under the table and he'd give a stern stare, trying to shrug and look indifferent as others would notice his suddenly-changing demenour. However, there'd be boring Alexandria dinners that Deanna would host and if you sat next to eachother, he'd place his large hand on your thigh and even dare to slip a finger on the fabric of your panties, starting to rub his middle finger harshly in circles while having full ass conversations with people and try to hide his subtle smirk bearing his face. He would do it rarely yet he'd be so good at it because no one would suspect a thing, he'd always make it look like he was resting his arm on your lap. You'd squirm under his warm touch and heat waves would wash all over you while trying to look normal as ever. And believe me, after those nights, when you'd confront about him about what he did at a dinner with 20 people, he'd act as if he doesn't understand a thing you're saying or would say "Don' kno' what yer talkin' 'bout." while shrugging his shoulders and turning to his side with a wicked grin.

FOOTNOTE

well this actually took shorter than i thought idk why i believed it would take me couple of days to finish one lmao i deadass wrote this in like an hour max ???? anyway i wish there were more but idc i was so impatient to post one of theseeee :)))

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your professor helps you recover from a drunken night out.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Professor + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + Finger-sucking, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!professor!Andy Barber x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, power imbalance, professor/student relationship, mild drugging (pills), drinking (night before), hangover, praise kink, age gap, pet names, finger-sucking, kidnapping (?), and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You slowly come to, your head pounding. You blink until the blurriness leaves your vision, which takes quite some time. You feel disgusting, as though there are weights pulling you down.

When you look around, you realize you aren’t in your room. You’re startled, sitting up quickly, but you soon regret the action when your head begins to spin. You lean on the mattress for support and scoot upwards, resting against the bedhead.

This can’t be a frathouse—it’s too nice, too personal. You try to think back to last night, when you went out with classmates you considered friends, until they ditched you, leaving you on the curbside drunk and alone.

A familiar baritone fills your memories—Professor Barber. You remember being puzzled at the instructor’s presence at the bar, but you didn’t outright question him. Despite your insistence, he bought you a drink and complimented how you fared in his class, stating that your work was some of the best he had read.

You neglected to tell him about the nights you stressed about his exams and assignments. At least he was kind to you.

The rest of the night is a blur. You don’t recall how you got here, but you hope it wasn’t for a lame one-night stand. At that thought, you realize you don’t feel any kind of ache in your core.

The doorknob turns, and you look at where the sound comes from. The door opens gently, and in comes Professor Barber, carrying a tray of water, pills, and some toast. He smiles at you, even with the confusion written all over your face.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greets, placing the tray on the bedside table. You look for something in his appearance—regret, guilt, or an extra bounce in his step. Did something happen between you two? You feel nauseated at the thought of all the consequences that will follow.

Your head falls into your hands, and you groan, a pounding headache creeping up on you. 

“You alright?” Professor Barber asks, sitting on the bed. You involuntarily move your legs away, the idea of touching him too frightening. You nod your head. “Did we…?” you eventually speak up.

Your professor furrows his brows until he realizes what you’re getting at. “Oh, no, honey,” he smiles, placing a hand that is meant to be comforting on your knee. You exhale deeply, relieved. Professor Barber chuckles.

“Professor… I’m so sorry you have to see me like this. I’ll be out of your hair soon,” you promise, squeezing your eyes shut when the dizziness takes over. “Please, it’s Andy,” he requests. “O– Okay, Andy,” you repeat.

“And you don’t have to rush. In fact, I’d prefer it if you stayed here—you had a rough night,” Andy sighs. “Oh… Uh, what happened? And where am I?” you question.

“You’re at my place. Don’t worry, no campus scum to annoy you here,” he jokes. You force a smile. “You drank so much, and then your friends left with some guys. I found you crying on the curbside,” Andy tells you. 

You grimace. How did you manage to make such a fool of yourself in front of your professor? “So how did I get here?” you ask. “I drove you home,” Andy smiles. You nod, sort of absentmindedly. “I… Thank you so much, Andy. I really appreciate it,” you tell him honestly. Andy reaches a hand up to your face and uses his thumb to rub one of your cheeks. “You’re welcome, hon. How’s that hangover?” he asks. You freeze at his touch, but you don’t say anything. It would be rude, wouldn’t it?

“Oh, I’ve got a terrible headache,” you complain. The older man almost brightens at your words. “Here, take a pill,” he instructs, reaching for the bottle and popping it open. He shakes one out and hands it to you, along with the glass of water.

You take his offerings with thanks, downing the pill and the entire cup with ease. Andy grins when you hand it back to him. “Good girl,” the professor praises.

Then, his hand returns to your face again, this time dancing on your lips. “I know how stubborn you college kids can be,” he starts. “Just gotta make sure you took it.” Andy pushes two fingers past your lips, and he feels around your mouth, almost sensually. You don’t know what to do—freezing in shock. He strokes your tongue and the inside of your cheeks, secretly hoping you’ll suck on his digits like a really good girl. 

The professor is mildly disappointed when you don’t. Andy pulls his fingers out and wipes them on his sweatpants, giving you an approving smile. “You really are a good girl, huh?” he remarks. You awkwardly nod, looking down into your lap.

“Um… Do you think you could take me home, Andy?” you ask. “If not, that’s fine. I can just take an Uber,” you offer, looking back up at him. The older man’s face is serious, jaw clenched and eyes hard. You gulp thickly, scared.

“Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere,” he growls. You open your mouth to reason with him, worried you’ll further disrespect or anger Andy. But he holds a hand up, making the words dissolve on the tip of your tongue,

“You know, I think you need some rest,” he declares, standing up and taking the tray. He pauses, leaving the plate of toast behind, before continuing to leave. “No, Sir– Please, wait!” you exclaim, but he doesn’t listen.

“The sleeping pill will help you get some rest,” he explains, and you realize that you feel drowsy. But the pain in your head dulls, and you’re thankful for that. “We’ll have time to talk after, honey,” Andy promises, hand resting on the doorknob.

You’re not sure what to do, so you nod your head. Andy stares at you as he closes the door, hoping that when he returns, you’ll be much more obedient, just like how you were in his class.