#from the dining table to the church

[proventobeaj3lover]

ONE WORD

SMASH

(read tags)

[heavenlyraindrops]

smash

fallen angel

[hanniedream]

[apollo-zero-one]

I'm gonna read the Bible and start praying and possibly going back to church, I only wanna go to a UU church though because that's the only kind I ever felt safe in, and the nearest one I will have to see if the busses run there that early or if I could theoretically bike it...

I'm going to try to find a job with Sunday/Monday/Tuesday off (or at least Sun-Mon off), so I'll work Wed-Sat, and also days, possibly first shift? I want to get off nights though. We'll see. But I'd like to start going to church every Sunday like I did as a kid. I'd like to learn the prayers I rejected for so long. I feel disconnected from the Universe and maybe faith will soothe that. It can't hurt.

[rosiereveries]

Regency!John Price who inherited his brothers duke title, because his brother died without an heir. John was the second oldest son, and he never thought about being the successor to the title, so he chose a military career.

He was a captain who fought wars and won them, not some lord who fancied balls and dressed in fancy clothing. But now he doesn’t have a choice. John comes back home after he has been badly injured in the battle, he was shot in his leg, and he had to use a wheelchair for quite some time.

When he comes home, to the new house and staff who pities him, he doesn’t feel like a man he once was. At the first ball he must attend he can see everyone eyes on him as he stumbles with his cane. He absolutely hates it. So, he makes a plane, he has to quickly marry some girl, make an heir and go live to the countryside where everyone will leave him alone.

You were on the other hand the youngest daughter of noble family. You weren’t rich, but your sisters and brothers married well, so you could keep good family reputation. Now it was your turn to marry, and as you were introduced to the society you quickly came to the realization, that you will probably end as a wife of some old man, who could be your grandfather.

So, when your cousin Johnny mentions, that his loyal friend and mentor John Price is looking for a wife you are interested. He tells you that John is a duke now and that he wants to get married as soon as possible. From Johnnys stories you know that John is a good man, who will hopefully respect you and treat you well.

You don’t get to meet your husband till the day of the wedding. The whole engagement is short and feels very official. He writes you a letter with things that you should know about your new home and your mother and sisters help you prepare for the married life.

When you finally see your future husband standing in the church, you’re quite surprised. He is very handsome, older than you, probably in his late 30s, but you’re sure that if he waited a little, he could find a better wife that you will be. John on the other hand is smitten by you, he also doesn’t understand why you would choose to marry him.

After the ceremony you immediately leave the town. He is very quiet the whole ride to his mansion and even thought you have many questions you stay quiet too. You arrive late in the night, exhausted from the long travel, but the only thing that concerns you is the wedding night. You heard a lot of horrible stories told by maids about their first nights with their husbands. The only thing that John does is that he shows you your room, tells you which butler to call if you have any troubles and he is gone. You’re left in the huge mansion alone and confused.

The breakfast takes place in the dining room. You sit at the table so far from John that you would have to shout to get his attention. He ignores you most of the time. At first you don’t mind it, you finally have some sort of freedom, you explore the land, the house and you find a huge library with many books you want to read.

But after some time, you start to crave his attention. The maids don’t want to be your friends, they think that it is highly inappropriate, you as a couple don’t attend any balls and there is no noble lady in the near distance you could visit and be friends with.

So, you start to write a diary, you write about how you feel and how would you like your husband to actually acknowledge you. Sometimes you also mention that you find him very attractive and the romance novels that you found in the library don’t help your imagination.

One time you forget your diary in the library and John accidentally picks it up. He thinks its some book that he hasn’t read yet. When he realizes that it is your handwriting, he knows that he should put it down, it is not right to invade your privacy. But then he sees his name there and he must know what you write about him.

He reads the whole paragraphs about how your meetings in the dinning room leaves you all flustered and how you crave his attention. He didn’t think that a young girl like you could find him attractive, and he wanted to be a good husband and leave you as much freedom as you could want. He didn’t want to pressure you into any kind of intimate relationship even though he was pressured by the rest of his family to have an heir. John leaves your diary where he found it, without any evidence that he read it.

The next morning, he invites you to eat breakfast with him in the garden. It is far more intimate, and you finally have a conversation with him. He asks you questions about your hobbies, your family and if you like it here.

It finally feels like he is courting you and you leave every encounter with him with rosy cheeks and butterflies in your stomach. He invites you on walks where he holds your hand as you tell him about your day or about the new book you just left. You spend the whole days together learning about each other.  

John tells you stories about the war, the battles he fought. His leg heals up perfectly and now, that he is healthy again, he takes you with him when he goes riding. When you ask him if he likes the hight society he tells you the truth. He tells you how much he despises the formal event and the balls and suddenly it all makes sense to you.

You finally understand why he wanted to marry so quickly and why you live alone in the middle of nowhere. You tell him that you loved the dancing and the beautiful gown you could wear at balls but now you don’t mind the quiet life. Now you have him and that is all that matters.  

One evening he makes a ball just for you. He invites a musician to play, he buys you an expensive gown and you pretend that you are at some formal event. It’s just the two of you dancing, laughing and drinking expensive champaign he bought for the ball. You dance the whole night and after he walks you to your bedroom he kisses you. It is a soft kiss, just your lips barely touching, but it starts a fire in you, and you want more.

When John realizes that you’re not pulling away he deepens the kiss. He knows that you have no experiences, and he wants to show you that he will treat you well. He spends the night with you, showing you in many ways how much he loves you.

And when you finally fall asleep, he thinks how lucky he is to find a wife like you. When you wake up and you see your husband sleeping in your bad you are very grateful that you accidentally left your diary in the library open on the page that mentioned how hot he was. Such a shame you didn’t come up with the plan a little earlier.

Masterlist

[hornydonutpost]

lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the ool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magniticent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, he could put a nuclear bomb inside me and i'd still ride it and I would give this man the sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, slimy, life changing, death DROPPING, heaven sent, flabbergasting, hypnotising, ungodly, astonishing, leg trembling, back arched, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, legs stretching out again and again, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing, waist slowly moving up and down, small heavy breath " I can't take much more of this", breaths getting quicker, twitching, throbbing, eyes shut, lip biting, edging begging for relief, warm hot rush bubbling up, spit upon the tongue twisting ground tip-talking against the mouth, sideways spit from the end and lick from the bottom to the top then spit and lick to the bottom,

deepthroating, thrusting slower then faster, faster, FASTER twisting mouth around each side, spiritually enlightening, chakra aligning, mangekyo sharigan unlocking, golden light like a halo, noise from the very edge of his throat for the final, hardest release ever....and THEN I'd let him pound me so FUCKING HARD UNTIL HE IMPRENATES ME WITH HIS BABIES. My prayers for you be like no lube, no protection from the condom or the lord, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the church, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, while i gasp for air and scream the lord's prayer, YOU sir can OBLITERATE me and uses no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the ool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking,

[chobunz]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the dining table, from the bed to church, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream for satan mercy, HE CAN TOP ME. until i’m swollen, until i’m crying, until he’s out of juice, until i can’t walk, until i’m numb, until my throat hurts, until my cheeks are red, until the neighbours know his name, until my inside becomes outsides, until my holes remember the shape, until my jaws fall off, until my legs are useless, until my eyes are rolled back and it stays there, until my body does a backflip, until my whole body shakes, until the skin peels off, until i’m paralyzed for the rest of my life, until all my holes are filled, until i can’t breathe, until it gets longer than before, until he can’t stand anymore, until i die, until his testicles don’t cum anymore, until my mouth can't eat, until i remember the length of it, until the end of time, until it reaches my stomach, until he’s grunting and growling, until the whole world hears. i’m gonna get him pregnant ten times, over breeding him all day and all night, no protection just me and him all over the house on the floor, on the couch, on the bed, in the shower, on the rooftops, even god couldn’t pull me out of him.

[nana-au]

church boy! eren | pt 2. to this drabble MDNI

warnings: sacrilegious themes, dom!eren, eating from behind, eren's a munch<3, risk of getting caught, unprotected sex, creampie, reader and eren are in their early 20's

pastor's son! eren who portrays himself as this innocent, godly man but as soon as he gets you alone in the dining room of his parents home it becomes very clear he is anything but. he has you bent over the table, the weight of your body crushing the open bible beneath you from when you had at least attempted to take this study session seriously. your skirt laid abandoned on the floor, panties held to the side by eren's slender fingers while his lips sucked on your clit from behind. you were a mess, mewling and bucking against the table eren's family said grace at every meal. he was on his knees behind you, tongue exploring your dripping folds while you desperately tried to get away from his mouth, attempting to give yourself some reprieve from his constant attack.

"stay still f'me," he commanded you, his mouth following your slit with every stutter of your hips. he made it next to impossible to stay still with the aggressive way he licked up your dripping cunt. you were too dazed to question it, but eren seemed wholly unaffected by his face buried in your folds - unwilling to spare a second away from it for air. the noises coming from the two of you could be heard throughout the whole house; the sound of him slurping up your juices was deafening compared to the otherwise silent residence.

"eren... please," you huffed, trying desperately to peel yourself away from his punishing mouth. your legs shook with each delve of his tongue into your pulsing entrance, threatening to give way. he pulled away at the sound of your voice, coming face to face with your glistening pussy, his chest heaving to catch up on some much needed air.

"please what?" he asked nonchalantly. like he couldn't seem to grasp what the problem could be - like he didn't realize he was eating you like a starving man having his first meal in days. no, weeks. the hand that wasn't currently hooked into your soaked panties reached up to play with your cunt, his fingers teasing your folds awaiting your response.

"it's too much," you tell him, voice high-pitched and strained. your bottom lip stuck out in a pout as his fingers trailed up and down your folds.

"but look at her... she wants this," eren hushes you, eyes glued to the way your cunt clenches each time his fingers linger over your entrance a moment too long. you just about died hearing him refer to your pussy as its own entity - like it has its own thoughts and feelings separate to yours - but with each tempting stroke of his digits against your needy hole you begun to consider he might have a point. you could only look back at him, mouth agape as his fingers easily slid through your entrance, allowing him to effortlessly glide in and out. you shuddered upon feeling his long digits breach your cunt - unable to stop him from attaching his tongue onto your engorged clit. he continues his previous act of suckling your clit, this time accompanied by his fingers buried deep into your pussy. his fingers mapped out the ridges of your tight walls before he found the spot he was looking for. the spongy little spot accompanied by your little hiccup confirmed it for him, and he let out a cool, "there it is...."

your thoughts grew muddy by the constant curling of his fingers into your sweet spot, gasping and clawing at the table beneath you while he continued to suck and fuck into you. his mouth and fingers worked in tandem to rile you up - his pace punishing - desperately attempting to get you to squirt into his awaiting face.

"eren, 'm so cl-close," you stuttered, brought on by the sharp suck against your labia. his knees dug into the hardwood floor beneath him, his mouth puckering against your hardened clit and fingers drilling into your cunt while you shook against the table above him. he didn't respond to your statement, only sticking to the same punishing pace awaiting your release. when it came, it came hard. he pulled his fingers abruptly out of you, replacing them with his tongue while he drank from the sweet fluid spilling from your twitching hole. his hands gripped the fat of your ass, spreading them apart to get a better angle while he licked up the fruit of his labor.

it was then you heard the jangling of keys at the front of his house - along with muffled voices you presumed to be his parents. you shot up immediately, attempting to dress yourself before they inevitably walked in on the scene in their dining room.

eren stood up along with you, pupils blown and pulse racing from the sudden thrill of getting caught. he watched as you bend down to pick up your skirt, his hand reaching out to stop yours. you look up to meet his eyes, silently questioning what he was doing. "i didn't get to cum yet," he tells you, and if he didn't look dead serious you maybe would have laughed.

"your parents!" you whisper-shouted at him, appalled by the idea of being caught by your pastor of all people. his eyes continued to linger - his resolve remained unaffected by the threat of being caught. at this point his parents had unlocked the door and made their way into their house - taking off their shoes and jackets while the two of you remained frozen in each other's gaze.

"they won't know if you keep quiet," he told you, and you couldn't believe the audacity of the man in front of you as you heard his parents stomp around the front of the house. he was completely unphased by the sounds of them only a few rooms away from the one you two were currently in. "relax," he told you, moving in close to you, causing your butt to hit the dining room table behind you. his fingers went down to fiddle with the waist band of your panties - still soaking wet and bunched towards the right where eren had held it just moments prior. your hand reached out to slap his away when you heard his mother speak.

"eren, where are you honey?" she called out - all sweet and expectant. unaware of the debauchery her darling son was partaking in.

"in the dining room," he called out. ignoring the horror written across your face as he continued, "i'm studying with a student, mom. we'll be done soon," his fingers absentmindedly fondled your waistband awaiting his mother's response. he executed his lies with practiced ease, and you were surprised with how he spoke with such conviction.

"do you two need any snacks?" she asked, her voice louder as she got closer to where you stood half naked with eren's hands trailing across your white panties.

"no thank you," he smiled. "she has dinner with her mother soon," you stood still listening to them talk across the house, trying desperately to ignore the ache of his teasing fingers. "we'll be done soon, mom. i'd appreciate if you could leave us be - she needs the quiet to focus."

you were astounded how easily that worked on her. her footsteps trailing towards you halted and her voice came out terribly sweet, "of course. your father and i will be watching tv in the living room. join us when you're finished."

you didn't know if you were mortified or impressed at the ease in which he lied; how convincing he was to be teasing your body just rooms away from the mother and father he swore his purity to. his thumb dug into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your sides and stripping you completely bare. you felt a shock of something cool - his purity ring - hugging the slender digit of his hand as it trailed back up your inner thigh and against your sodden folds. "will do," he called out a final time, eyes dark as he picked you up and set you on the wooden table behind you.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, eyes stuck on your delicious body beneath him, appreciating the subtle arch of your back as your subconscious anticipated the sight of his cock springing free against his stomach. your body felt on fire - flooded with guilt and horror and worst of all arousal. even after attending every sunday sermon the past month - and never once missing a second of bible study - you couldn't get yourself to believe in things such as heaven and hell. but with eren standing in front of you, taking his time to release his pulsing cock just to tease you - with his parents only rooms away; the tv speakers echoing family feud of all things... you believed the devil had to be real. and he was standing in front of you - teasing his own body and reveling in the way yours buzzed with obvious excitement.

"you can be quiet, can't you?" he teased, tugging down his boxers, his dick slapping against his taut stomach - the tip red and eager to be encompassed by your awaiting cunt. you swallowed thickly, allowing him to push you back until you laid flat against the table. a deep chuckle came from the living room where his parents resided and your body jolted at the sudden noise but you weren't sure if eren even registered the sound - too entranced by what was to come. he gently guided you down onto the table once more before rubbing his cock against your slit, poking the head against your hole. "ready?" the words that left his mouth were hypnotic - almost trance like as his other hand squeezed the fat of your hip. you nodded your head; still all too aware of the noise just outside of where you two were. he struggled a little to push past the initial ring of your cunt - but once he managed he let out a soft sigh - burying himself deep into your snug walls. his hand shot up to push back any stray hairs out of his face - wanting to focus only on you as you arched beneath him. the bible next to you lay cold while eren begun to pull out - only to push himself back in as far as he could go. your tummy bulged where his tip met deep inside you and all the air fled from your lungs at the feeling. "god, this pussy is so perfect," he told you - using the lord's name in vein to compliment your cunt.

"eren-" you squeaked out and he leaned down to deliver a small peck to your lips.

"shhh," he hushed you. "let me do all the talking," he didn't trust you to stay quiet and eren was all too familiar with keeping quiet in the four walls of the home he was raised in. "let me take care of you," he slowly made his way up to an unforgiving pace - taking his time at first before giving you what you both craved. your tits bounced with each snap of his hips and eren softly grunted with each punishing squeeze of your insides. he grew rougher with every moment, his hands holding your thighs far apart as he ravaged you with vigor. you brought your hand up to cover your parting lips that threatened to cry out his name and his own came down to rip it away - replacing it with his lips as he devoured you completely. the table groaned every time he took you, thrusting fervently while you milked him. "she's mine, right?" he asked you, referring to your pussy, voice heavy with lust and sin hot in your ear. you nodded - eyes rolling back. the cross necklace that typically laid against his chest - a reminder of his undying faith in the lord - fell out from his shirt with the passionate way he took you. the cross dangled down - tickling the skin of your neck and you winced when eren bit the skin of your lip. "fuck. take it. take my cock," he groaned. the room grew stuffy with your shared lust - and your poor pussy - too wet for its own good, begun to squelch from his cock. between eren's primal groans, your heavy breaths, the table protesting beneath you, and now your filthy pussy, the orchestra of noise could be heard outside of the room you two shared. alerting his parents.

"eren?" his father called out. not a moment later he came - his sperm spilling deep inside you. hot and sticky while your cervix contracted - desperate to take all of his children.

"yes, father?" he called out, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck.

"what's going on in there?" the gravely voice barked. eren swallowed deep, peeling off of you and pulling your skirt up your tired body.

"nothing, sir..."

[chososho3]

No lube. No protection. All day. All night. From the kitchen floor to the toilet seat. From the dining room table to the church. From the front porch to the balcony. Vertically. Horizontally. Quadratic. Exponential. Logarithmic. Doggy-style. Sideways. Frontwards. Backwards. Upside-down. 360°. Skin on skin. In the living room. In the bedroom. In the fridge. In the closet. On the ceiling. On the walls. In the bathroom. On the couch. In the car. And on the street.

[jjscrybaby]

thinking about being in a long term relationship with rafe and being so in love & happy him.

you have made a home together with love & warmth — and you’ve given him a secure home where his siblings come over. you’re a natural hostess and you love having wheezie, Sarah & John b (and their baby) over

thinking about how grateful he is to you for creating a home that he and his siblings haven’t had 🥹

rafe cameron x fem!reader | fluff | (i named sarah’s baby, not after jj because in ALL my fics he is still alive and thriving, just fluff tbh)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Christmas in Tannyhill has always been magical. There were always expensive gifts under the tree, lights covering the building and an all-you-can-eat buffet on the dining table for lunch. The sight of it was something out of a fairytale, something only rich kids would be able to afford.

The problem was that Ward was never there. He was working. He didn’t buy the gifts, the maids did. He didn’t put up the lights, he hired someone else to do it. He didn’t go to church with the kids, he didn’t help them write their letters to Santa, he didn’t do anything.

Rafe can remember the Christmas that he realised Santa wasn’t real, because the only thing he’d written on his list was for his dad to spend the day with him and his sisters. He’d woken up bright and early and ran down the stairs, expecting for Ward to be sat beside the tree with a grin on his face as he got ready to watch the kids open their presents, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, the maid was there waiting with a bored expression on her face as she waited for the kids to wake up.

You’d always adored Christmas. Your family wasn’t perfect, you didn’t have over-the-top gifts or lights surrounding the entire house but you had the thing the Cameron’s didn’t; you had love. Rafe remembers the first Christmas you spent together, three years ago, you hadn’t spent an entire month’s paycheck on his present, you’d gotten him something meaningful, a scrapbook you’d spent hours making. He cried, he cried for hours, because for the first time ever he felt that love you’re supposed to feel at Christmas time.

“You look beautiful,” he complimented, walking into the kitchen where you were in the middle of pouring cocktails. He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek.

“Gonna ruin my makeup,” you warned, but there was a soft smile on your face as you looked back at him. You turned around to face him, hands looping around his shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“In love,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss your red painted lips.

You giggled, shoving at his chest. “I’m serious. I know this is gonna be a bit weird for you, and for Sarah.”

“We’ve been getting on a lot better, and I didn’t invite them to see Sarah, I invited them to see our niece,” Rafe explained, making you grin.

“Are the cookies ready?” Wheezie appeared in the kitchen, wearing the purple dress you’d forced on her. Rose had finally allowed for her to come visit, so she was staying with you and Rafe for the holidays.

“On the table,” you replied, nodding to the dining room that you and Rafe had never used before.

Half an hour later the doorbell rang, you pretty much ran to get it. Sarah, John B and one-year old Mimi stood there with smiles on their faces. You squealed, taking the chubby baby from Sarah’s arms.

“Merry Christmas,” John B greeted, holding a bottle of wine.

“Merry Christmas, lovebirds,” you replied, leading them inside the house. You kissed Mimi’s cheek before handing her to John B, wanting to greet your boyfriend’s sister properly. You hugged her and she eagerly hugged you back.

Even when Rafe and Sarah didn’t get along, all for good reasons, you and her were always friends. You’d gone to school together, you helped the Pogues out countless times, it was impossible for any of them not to like you. She truly believed that if it weren’t for you Rafe may have never changed, you didn’t believe that; he just needed a push in the right direction.

“Give me her.” Rafe demanded, making you laugh as he held his hands out expectantly for the baby. John B chuckled too, passing her over. It was something you never thought you’d see, John B and Rafe having a civil conversation. John B giving him his child. “Her presents are under the tree.”

“Oh, God,” Sarah laughed. “How many did you get her? We’re trying not to raise her spoilt.”

“Don’t want another one of you, huh?” Rafe asked, a smirk on his face as Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. “The other one’s eating all the cookies.”

Sarah and John B left to go and say hi to Wheezie, leaving you, Rafe and Mimi in the hallway. He was rocking the baby, talking to her about her presents as if she could understand a word he was saying.

“What do you think about… havin’ one of our own of these?” Rafe asked, looking over at you. He looked nervous, something you didn’t see often.

“A baby?” You replied softly. He nodded his head, looking between you and her. “We could just steal that one.”

“We could, not sure Sarah would be too happy about that,” Rafe smirked.

You walked closer to him, his arm gravitating towards your waist to pull you into him. “I’d love to have a baby with you, Rafe. You know that. I’ve wanted that since I was fifteen.”

“Damn, someone’s obsessed,” he teased. You rolled your eyes, poking his cheek. “I love you, a lot. We ain’t ever had someone do stuff like this for us, I mean, you pretty much brought the family back together.”

“No, I didn’t,” you argued. “You did that, baby. You sorted things out with Sarah, you called Rose and demanded her to let Wheez come. You did all this, okay? Don’t give me the credit, all I did was put on a pretty dress and make some cookies.”

“Maybe… maybe we could do this next year, too. If tonight goes well, that is,” he suggested, that nervous tone back.

“It will go well,” you reassured. “Maybe next year we’ll have someone for Mimi to hang out with.”

He looked down at you, eyes full of love. His lips met yours, but only a few seconds later you were interrupted. “Can you not make out in front of my baby?” John B snorted, coming over. “I want to see these presents you got her.”

“We got you something, too,” you laughed, starting to follow him out the room.

“Even better.”

You looked back at Rafe, blowing him a kiss as you went. He stayed put for a moment longer, looking down at his niece. If every Christmas was going to be like this from now on, then maybe he’d stop being such a grinch.

[looseyjuicy]

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE SPOILERS !!

“Isn’t this romantic? A private wedding with our closest friends and an entire orchestra to play us in.” The man next to you sighs dreamily, as if he hadn’t taken you and a whole church full of people hostage, “if that doesn’t say ‘dream wedding’, then I don’t know what will.”

“Are you insane?!”

“So kind of you to notice, sweetheart.”

He ignores any curses you throw his way as you both make your way towards the front, arms laced together in a mock loving gesture.

this was.. such a bizarre twist of events.

for almost two years, you’d been Lydia Deetz’s personal assistant. Grabbing her coffee, running her feedback to anyone who needed it, just doing whatever it was she needed done for her.

she was nice, if not a little spaced out at times. as far as employers go, she’d have to be one of your best ones.

which is why you felt a little obligated when she asked you a pretty big favor.

you had to drive out with your bosses to help deal a couple issues that arose when the show was briefly paused due to the passing of Lydia’s father.

once you arrived at her old home, you kept things organized for the wake to take some of the load off of her.

later on, by order of Rory, you were put in charge of handling all necessities required for his wedding before he even officially proposed.

gross.

taking it as an opportunity to avoid the family matters that plagued the Deetzs as much as possible, you kept your head down and typed away at your laptop.

you will admit that the change of scenery was refreshing. Instead of a city filled with noisy cars, you’d been brought into a nice, quiet town.

well, at least it was quiet before some weird stuff started.

first, it was the occasional static on your laptop, which you’d shrugged off as poor connection.

then, bugs had seemed to have it out for you as they found their ways into whatever clothes you’d packed for the trip.

“this is an old house. It’s not uncommon for bugs to find their way inside.” you tried to justify as spiders crawled all over your former favorite bra.

although you’d genuinely thought you were going crazy when some weird flyer kept popping up wherever you went. At the dining table, inside your shoe(?), in the bathroom.

not wanting to cause any potential trouble, you just kept everything to yourself and tried to ignore it for the time being.

(it was hard to ignore the one that somehow ended up in the back pocket of the very jeans you had been wearing all day)

all of which is forgotten as a series of bizarre events had completely derailed the rest of the evening.

as you’re rushed around town by both of your employers, you eventually find your way into the church for the wedding.

that is, until the ceremony was rudely interrupted by someone that had come to claim what was due.

now, you’re dressed in some poofy, 80’s wedding dress that’s practically impossible to walk in about to be wed to a demon. The very one who somehow wormed his way into your short visit.

Lydia looks on in shock from behind one of the pews, her daughter and stepmother sharing the same mortified expression as you’re yanked down the aisle.

“I can’t believe the day’s finally here! Are you ready for the rest of our lives together, honey?” Beetlejuice gushes, strong-arming you into his side.

“No wa-“ is all you manage to get out before something zips! over your lips, smothering whatever objections you had.

“Whoops, looks like someone’s gettin’ cold feet.”

He cackles as you try to remove the zipper that conveniently had no slider. You’re given one last slimy grin before he forces you to face forward, urging the priest to begin.

god, serves you right for being an assistant to a paranormal TV personality.

[proventobeaj3lover]

This is why I read fanfiction.

I will be rereading it every time it updates.

(read tags)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sin, sin, sin.

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, catholic church setting, confessional, rafe kind of pretending to be a priest (itll make sense quickly), religious trauma, if youre religious and easily offended probably skip this one

rafe knows little about his mother, but the one thing he does know is that she was a devout catholic. maybe it's stories ward told him, or the fact that his strongest memory of her was her funeral, held in the same catholic church he's currently pushing the grand wooden doors to enter.

it's his last chance as he looks into the candlelit hall. to turn around and go back into the darkness of the night, let the inky blackness swallow him whole.

rafe feels a pang in his chest. good old catholic guilt his mother passed down to him. rafe lets out a curse before he steps foot into the church, wishing he got his father's fake christianity instead, going to church on holidays and only using the religion when it suits you.

rafe looks away from the altar, the cross hanging above it, and to the confession booth to the side of the pews. his feet carry them there with the false confidence he's always been able to paste on as a front.

rafe looks at the door and then swallows thickly. guilt, guilt, guilt. he's not sure anything could help, yet he opens the handle and steps inside.

the creaky door slams shut behind him as rafe sits and faces forward towards the screen, just opaque enough to make out a figure on the other side in the low light.

rafe realizes then that he doesn't know the words. 

“forgive me father, for i have sinned.” a voice from the other side suddenly rings out, a soft, feminine voice. rafe suddenly is aware of his mistake. “it has been two days since my last confession.”

rafe knows he should interrupt you, stop you from continuing on, but something in him stirs him to stay, his interest peaking.

“ive slept with another man. i know you're tired of hearing it, father. i just can't help myself. i can't seem to wait, it's like something takes over me. father, i feel as if i am possessed by some sexual demon.” 

you scoff and rafe can see your body crumple on the other side, becoming an even smaller shape.

“tell me what happened.” rafe says.

“i-i had a date. a nice catholic man, or at least who i thought was a nice catholic man. he took me to dinner, and then i thanked him by getting on my knees immediately after.”

“keep going…” there's something about your voice that stirs rafe, has his hand gravitating to his crotch, there's a sexual prowess in your voice mixed with the guilt and innocence, like you're describing the deeds of some other woman entirely.

“he didn't even initiate it. i did. i pulled him into my apartment when he was dropping me back home. can you believe that? he was being a gentleman bringing me back to my doorstep and i just had to be a total hussy.”

rafe presses his hand down against his growing cock, imagining himself as that so called catholic gentleman.

“i unzipped his pants and tugged them down. he wasn't even hard. i played with him over his underwear, kissed his length and sucked on it and everything.”

rafes hands follow your description as he leans back against the wooden wall, tugging down his zipper and closing his eyes to picture it even better, some anonymous bold woman.

“i then pulled his underwear down. right there in the front hallway. when i saw him… i knew i was going to sleep with him next.”

you pause for long enough that rafe realizes he needs to speak. he hopes his voice doesn't come out strained. “then you slept with him?”

“yes. didn't even make it to the bedroom, he took me against the dining room table. how am i ever expected to settle down and have my own children and a loving family when all i really want is that high.”

“how does the high make you feel?”

“it comes right before the orgasm, really.” your voice drops in octave, and rafe wonders if your pussy is getting wet reimagining the scene. “when he's inside of me, pounding hard, and i know he's about to lose it too.”

rafe pushes his underwear down and tugs his cock out, not kid himself any longer that he's not extremely turned on and cannot leave the confessional with his pants tented.

“we're moaning in sync, not worrying about the neighbors in that moment. im clenching around him and he's-” you hesitate for a moment, and rafe swears he hears a sensual exhale, as if you may be touching yourself on the other side of the booth. “he's stretching me out. i love the pulsing of right when he's about to cum-”

rafe lets out a moan as he strokes before he realizes and sits up suddenly, but his reaction is too delayed as you're out of your booth and opening the door to his.

“you perv! father-” you come face to face with a handsome young man instead of the elderly priest you expected. “you're not the father.”

your eyes then travel down to his cock and that devious part of you taking over again.

“it-it was an accident.” rafe says quickly, trying to explain why he's in the priests side of the confessional when you step inside and close the door behind you.

“i have another sin to confess.” you pull the skirt of your dress up, revealing that you're wearing nothing beneath, your glimmering wet pussy directly in front of rafes face. he could so easily lean forward and taste you.

“ive always wanted to fuck in the confessional.”

rafe grabs your hips and tugs you down. he doesn't even know your name. he doesn't need to as his lips smash against yours, wildly making out.

you reach down between your bodies, grasping rafes hard cock and giving it a few strokes before you line yourself up.

you hesitate for just a moment before sinking down as rafe moans into your mouth, hoping that his mother isn't up in heaven looking down at him desecrating this holy place with you.

you gasp and pull away from the kiss as you adjust, your pussy being stretched just the way you described liking it.

“fuck.” rafe hisses out.

“shouldn't curse in a place of worship.” you smirk at him, cutting off whatever reply he had as you begin to move, bouncing up and down.

rafe grabs your hips, helping you move. his hands are strong as they disappear beneath your dress, needing to feel your bare skin.

“so good.” you whimper, pressing your forehead against rafes, breathing heavily as the temperature in the small booth rises.

“fuck, your pussy-” rafe grunts out as his hips begin to snap up into your tight heat. 

“you ever had a good catholic girl like this?” there's a hint of playfulness in your voice that rafe is shocked you can manage with your labored breathing.

“from your confession, im not sure you're all that good.” rafe says, moving his hand to rub his thumb over your clit, mostly just to see the reaction on your face as you moan out.

hes thankful for the late hour as he doesn't move his mouth forward to silence yours, letting your beautiful symphony of pleasure escape through the confessional walls and fill the church.

“this high.” you arch your back, eyes rolling back in your head as your fingers tighten on rafes shoulders. 

he knows exactly what you're speaking of. that moment when you're both on the apex, his cock swelling inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit, doing anything he can to elicit a reaction out of you, to increase your pleasure even more.

“cum for me.” rafe commands in a shockingly even voice, even surprising himself as your body stills and then shakes, crumpling forward into rafes strong arms as your pussy clenches around rafes cock, and it's all he needs to release himself, thrusting upwards and spilling inside of your cunt.

you're both breathing heavily as you come down from your high, wrapped up in each others bodies and your own intersecting pleasure before you have to pull away, realization setting in.

“oh my god.” you giggle. “we just fucked in the church.”

“shit.” rafe laughs as well. this is certainly not what he meant to do when entering into the church, yet his soul still feels lighter as he looks at your smile.

“god,” you look up at the ceiling, as if you're talking to him directly. “im so sorry. im going to hell.”

“i guess ill see you there.” rafe chuckles before he's interrupted by a gasp as you pull off of him.

rafe is quick to get himself back together, very aware of the fact that you're still bare under your dress, his cum no doubt dropping down your thigh.

you push open the door to the tiny booth and take a breath of cool air before rafe is quick to follow you out.

“i thought i heard a noise.”

you both freeze as you look up to see the nun walking from across the aisle.

“do you need the priest? he's already retired for the night.”

“no, sister.” you respond, a soft, innocent smile gracing your features as you grasp rafes hand and pull him to continue towards the exit. “see you at service sunday.”

you both let out a laugh as you push open the large wooden doors and flee from any more questions.

“can i at least get your name?” rafe asks as you enter into the night, way lit by moonlight.

“no.” you smile back at him. “but i will have another confession to make. tomorrow. same time.”

[youaremydearestdream]

i find it so interesting that the curtis family dining table doesn’t have all three chairs until the very end of the musical.

when darry sings runs in the family, there is only one chair. this highlights not only his isolation from the rest of the greasers, but the disconnection between him and ponyboy as well.

no one sits in the chair.

for runs in the family reprise, there are now two chairs at the dining table. pony sits in one chair, while darry and sodapop both take turns sitting in the other. Both brothers have pony’s best interests at heart, but they show it in very different ways. soda provides the emotional support, but darry’s contributions to pony’s well-being often goes unnoticed by pony. while they are a family, they are not united. there is still a distinct separation between darry and pony, with soda being directly in the middle of them.

during throwing in the towel, which i am going to assume still takes place in the curtis household, there is no dining table.

there are no chairs

and there is no ponyboy.

darry begins the song kneeling down on the floor, as if begging for forgiveness. soda crouches down to his level, and tries to lift him up, both physically and in the song as well. darry sits defeated on stool (or bricks that i am pretending is a stool or something, because it is definitely not a chair)

soda spends the rest of the song comforting and consoling him while pony harmonizes from a completely separate location (the church)

the third chair finally appears during the scene with soda’s breakdown. at the beginning of the scenes darry is sitting on the chair and soda is standing when ponyboy enters. pony then sits alone on the floor while darry comes over and crouches down to his level.

he takes a page out of soda’s book, trying to reach out and comfort pony the same way that soda was able to comfort him, but it turns into a confrontation that soda, once again, is in the middle of.

after stay gold, pony finally approaches the table and sits with his brothers. it is the first time in the musical that all three brothers are sitting together. darry reaches out in response, asking to read what pony has written in his notebook so far.

the three chairs are finally united, and so are the curtis brothers.

[harryslittlefreakk]

the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

[luvssdiorr]

no lube, no protection, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the church, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, doggystyle, sydeways, frontwards, backwards, upside-down, 360 degrees, skin on skin, in the living room, in the bedroom, in the fridge, in the closet, on the ceiling, on the walls, in the bathroom, on the couch, in the car and in the street.