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swordsandholly · 1 year ago

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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thereisanother · 2 years ago

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Walk Out in Toronto

Beautiful image of a carpeted walk-out basement with beige walls, a regular fireplace, and a stone fireplace

#artistica furniture #leather bar stool #pub table #basement #pub & bistro tables

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zaynsource · 2 years ago

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Home Bar Galley in Atlanta

Inspiration for a massive contemporary galley renovation with a seated home bar, dark wood floor, black cabinets, quartz countertops, white countertops, and a glass sheet backsplash.

#bar pendant light #basements #dining table #pub & bistro sets #wine rack #blue bar stool

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laylaheartphilia · 2 years ago

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Home Bar Galley in Atlanta Inspiration for a massive contemporary galley renovation with a seated home bar, dark wood floor, black cabinets, quartz countertops, white countertops, and a glass sheet backsplash.

#bar pendant light #basements #dining table #pub & bistro sets #wine rack #blue bar stool

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ulrikmyrtue · 2 years ago

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Basement - Walk Out Beautiful image of a carpeted walk-out basement with beige walls, a regular fireplace, and a stone fireplace

#leather bar stool #artistica furniture #basement #walk out #pub table #pub & bistro tables

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safequeersex · 2 years ago

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Game Room - Family Room

Game room - large modern open concept medium tone wood floor game room idea with yellow walls, no fireplace and no tv

#designer stools #pool table #chicago wall pub #family room #texas #game room

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bourbonanbarrelnorth · 1 year ago

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#Barrel Tables for Sale #Custom Logo Pub Tables #High Top Table #Bar Chairs and stools Collection #Bar Stool Furniture Collection #High Top Tables #Bar Chairs for Sale #Bar Chair Set

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twovialsofamortentia · 3 months ago

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sneaking away with james becomes a habit. 🍻❤️‍🔥

PART ONE

🎧 supermassive black hole- muse

warnings: smut. 18+, MDNI. unprotected sex, like VERY unprotected, mirror sex, rough sex, slight emetophobia warning, tipsy sex, james being a sex god (canon), james loving doggystyle bc he’s a man

You always sat next to James in the Three Broomsticks. Remus and Sirius usually sat across from you. Peter usually sat on a stool at the side of the table, but today he had swanned off to visit Zonko’s with Gilderoy Lockhart, a new friend of his. When they first started doing things together, James sulked for three days. Didn’t talk to anyone, not even you- he blanked out everyone who told him to get a grip.

That was by the by today, though, since James was in a good mood. You chalked that up to the fact that he had fucked you like it was your last day on earth approximately ten minutes before you left the castle.

You looked up at James through the corner of your eye while Sirius was off getting a round of drinks in. Sure enough, he was gazing right back at you. It made you laugh.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, catching him staring.

“Nothing.” he insisted, even though the look in his eye was suggesting the complete opposite.

“Don’t start being disgusting in front of me.” Remus protested, folding his arms. “I want no part of your weird foreplay, I’m telling you now.”

You dropped your head back and groaned, stomping your leg down onto the floor as you leaned back on the creaky wooden bench seat. You folded your arms in a huff, pulling on your best Moody Moony face.

“My name’s Remus Lupin, and I hate fun, because I’m all brooding and I smoke cigarettes while I pretend I’m not mentally shagging-”

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, it’s true though, you moody bastard.” you said quickly, slapping your hands on the table.

James was chuckling boyishly at your ridiculous impression, just happy that the conversation was deflected from his staring. James had a habit of getting carried away when he looked at you. His mind wandered frequently.

“Look who I found.” came Sirius’ voice, who was returning to the table with two drinks. He had Peter in tow, who was precariously balancing the other three in his hands. Impressively enough, he managed to set them all down on the table without spilling them.

“Finished with your boyfriend, Pete?” James asked, bringing one leg up to cross over the other, before resting his hand on his ankle. James was over the worst of his dramatics now, but he’d be a sad excuse for a marauder if he resisted the temptation to take the piss.

You kicked James sideways under the table and scooted up along the bench so that Peter could sit down next to you. You hooked one of your legs over James’ lap, letting it rest in between his own legs so that there was enough room for you all.

“You get anything good in Zonko’s, Worm?”

That prompted Peter to divulge into a several minute long rant about the haul of tat he bought from the joke shop down the road. Subsequently, because none of the marauders can ever shut up about anything, you ended up spending an hour planning your next six or seven pranks.

An hour of serious prank planning, though, meant another couple of drinks that got drained quicker than they would if you had nothing to talk about.

Which meant that by the time you shoved James out of his seat and stood up because you were gasping for a cigarette, everyone was a little unsteady on their feet.

You all stumbled outside, through the pub door and into the fresh air. You stuck a cigarette in between your lips, then one between James’, who was only a smoker when he’d had a drink- a smoker through association. Most of your friends had picked up the habit from Remus. Even Peter smoked occasionally when he wanted to look mysterious. James lit both of your cigarettes and shoved the small lighter in his pocket.

You gazed up at James as he leaned down to light your cigarette, smiling around where it was perched between your lips. You shot him a quick wink as you stood up straight.

“Behave.” he warned.

“Why?” you pressed, taking a step towards James and dropping your voice to a whisper. “I’m waiting for you to get wound up enough to actually take me in the bathroom.”

“You’re filthy,” he responded, in a low voice. James was very aware of the fact that not many people in the courtyard outside of The Three Broomsticks were still in possession of their hearing, so maybe he needn’t have bothered.

You giggled, nodding as you took another long puff of your cigarette, dragging your eyes painstakingly slowly over James’ figure. How nobody else had snapped him up by now was beyond you, but you weren’t complaining.

“Am I?” you asked, pulling your cigarette from between your lips, unconsciously darting your tongue out to wet them as you gazed up at James with an expression on your face that couldn’t have been interpreted any other way than please fuck me right fucking now.

That did it.

You felt James’ hand on the small of your back guiding you inside, and you followed because you knew what you were in for.

“Where are you two off to?” asked Peter, eyeing you suspiciously as you turned your back to him.

“Get another drink.” you lied over your shoulder, shrugging sheepishly at Pete as James whisked you off through the pub, straight past the bar and towards the little bathroom in the back corner.

It took a significant amount of restraint on James’ behalf to not manhandle you into the bathroom in a pub full of people. He wanted to drag you by the hair and throw you through the door. You wanted him to do the same.

He was, however, completely incapable of resisting once the door closed behind the both of you. James grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. kissing you hard as he pressed your back up against the nearest wall- which happened to be the one with the sink on it.

“Merlin-!” you gasped, kissing him back as your ass found the edge of the sink, and you perched on it, back resting flat against the mirror above it.

As soon as you were sat down, however, James was gripping your waist and pulling you off of the sink, yanking you back to your feet. James quickly spun you round so that your back was to his chest.

“Look at you.” he muttered, leaning down so close to your ear that you could feel his breath on the side of your face.

“Please.” was all you could manage to say, your eyes locked on James’ reflection because he was just. so. fit. He was holding you by your hips, and you could feel him against you, already rock hard.

James would be damned if he wasn’t going to give you what you asked for, every time you asked for it. He winked at you in the mirror, and you just about died, before he hooked one hand over your shoulder and kept the other on your hip, hinging you swiftly forward until you were bent over the sink in front of him.

“Fuck-” you gasped, grabbing the sink for support and gazing at yourself in the mirror as your hair fell down around your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” James promised, eyes catching yours in your reflection.

You nodded slowly, almost believing it. You watched intently in the mirror as James bunched your dress up. Then you watched as he ripped your underwear down your legs so it was hanging around your knees.

James placed a hand flat in the middle of your back to gently push you further forward, so you were well and truly bent over for him, your hands steadying yourself by gripping the white porcelain of the sink.

You gasped when you felt James sink two fingers into you, but as quickly as they were in, they were out, and the feeling was replaced by him pushing all the way into you.

“Oh, fuck!” you whined as James slipped inside you, your thighs clenching around his hips. You were already a mess. You watched him in the mirror as he looked down to focus on where your body joined his, and you could see his eyes flutter shut as he drew almost completely out of you, then pushed all the way back in.

He had one hand splayed flat over your back still, and he was gripping your hip tightly with his other. Once James had established a rhythm of fucking in and out of you, the hand that was holding your back down against the sink slid up across your back and into your hair.

You moaned when you felt your head being jerked back by James grabbing a handful of your roots, and you caught his gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck me, darling,” James fawned over you, as you looked up at him in the mirror. “You’re perfect.”

His hand stayed twisted in your hair, so even if you’d wanted to look away, you couldn’t. But you didn’t want to.

You just nodded, whining indiscriminately about everything and nothing at the same time. You weren’t speaking to be heard, you just wanted to release some of your pent up energy.

“I know, my girl, I know,” said James softly, as you whined. It was a beautiful sound, but he couldn’t have you being too loud. “Shh.”

“Fuck, fuck! James, fuck, feels so- oh, fuck,” you rambled on and on, hands still gripping the sink for dear life.

“I know, just be quiet, darling,” said James, gripping your hair a little tighter to drive the point home. “Don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

You were really had at remembering to have your wands on you for a silencing charm. You chalked it up to the fact that James got off on it, really. Filthy bastard.

You nodded, but it wasn’t much use, because the whines and curses were still spilling from your lips as if there was more than a flimsy wooden door separating you from everyone outside.

James leaned down over you, his hand slipping out of your hair and round to grab your face so tightly that it squished your cheeks together. He brought your back up against your chest, and dipped his head down to speak lowly in your ear.

“D’you need me to shut you up?” he warned through gritted teeth, staring down at you.

“Please-!” you mumbled, barely understandable because of how hard James was holding your face.

James got the message, and used the hand that he had holding your chin to push two of his fingers into your mouth, holding it open so that the sounds spilling from you were even less comprehensible.

“That better?” he asked.

You nodded, leaning slightly further forward and trying to tell James around his fingers that you were close, but you gagged around them and it all came out as a bit of a choked out mess.

“I know, sweetheart,” he assured you, and he was using that voice again. The voice that was only reserved for you, where his tone was soft against your skin, and he didn’t sound half as condescending as he did to anyone else. James knew that talking to you like that would let him get away with murder. He took his fingers out of your mouth and moved his hand around to the back of your neck, bending you roughly back over the sink.

You felt your legs starting to quiver, because being bent over like this meant James was hitting just the right spot. You had come to realise today that you were a complete and utter fool for James when he had you like this, because there was something so otherworldly about the way he looked when he was holding you down and drilling you like his life depended on it.

When James noticed that your legs were shaking, he knew you weren’t going to last that much longer. He brought his free hand round to your front, slipping it between you and the edge of the sink so he could reach down and circle his fingers over your clit.

James decided then and there that he loved having you like this, bent over for him, completely at his mercy, and resolved to bend you over more often.

“Fuck-” James huffed, snapping his hips harder against yours every time until he was lurching you forward every time he fucked into you.

“Please,” you begged. “James, I can’t-”

“S’alright, darling,” he told you soothingly. “Take it, you’re nearly there, I’ve got you.”

His fingers were digging into your hips, leaving little red marks over the ones he’d left earlier, which were already starting to transform into little pink bruises. They were tender, so the pain of James gripping you in the same spots was blinding, but so, so good.

“So gorgeous, darling, m’gonna- oh, fuck.”

It was at that point that you saw stars, because as soon as you felt a rush of warmth shoot up into you, your knees pressed together and you slumped against the sink, coming all over James’ dick for the second time that day.

James stilled as soon as he came, giving you the space to ride it out, but he twitched inside you involuntarily, your name spilling from his lips louder than it probably should have.

You couldn’t quite catch your breath as you went lax against the sink, hands pressed up against the mirror to try and keep you from hitting the floor. Your hips stuttered downwards and your thighs shook like you were freezing cold.

“Fuck.” you groaned, voice muffled by your own skin as you rested your head on your arms.

James watched your reflection for a moment, taking in how pretty you really were when you were like this, flushed bright red and bent over in front of the mirror.

“Love you.” he mused softly as he pulled your underwear back up over your ass before tugging at your dress so that it fell back down to where it was meant to be, the hem around your ankles rather than around your waist.

You hummed in response, sighing as you stood up straight. “Love you.” you echoed. “So much that I’m going to go back out there and sit with your friends while I’m leaking your fucking spunk.”

James laughed at that, pulling his underwear and jeans back up. He leant against the wall, still a little out of breath, eyes running across your face with adoration.

“It’s never ending with you.”

“You love it.”

There was no word of a lie. James did love it, almost as much as he loved you. You were kindred in your senses of adventure, and that was the most attractive thing about you in James’ eyes.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, opening the door for you and watching you duck under his arm and out of the bathroom. “I do.”

#james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders #dead wizards from the 70s #harry potter #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #gilderat #wolfstar

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vervainandspritz · 7 months ago

Text

WHEN I TOUCH HER

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy sees Y/N some time after breaking it off, she doesn't seem to notice him.. or does she?

A/N: Interact with the stories you read! It's important. Who wants something more tonight?:)

People surely noticed, looking over curiously as several blinders entered the pub. Not making a ruckus of sort, slipping between other people in the fairly big crowd.

Some joined others by the table, greeting with wide grins those they know so well. Others, like John and Arthur came up to the bar, so much bigger than one in the Garrison. Three barmaids worked behind the counter, skillfully pouring all kinds of alcohol for the men in need. Known well among the people of Birmingham, they didn't have to call over to the working women to get what they came for. One of the barmaids handed over a full bottle of the finest Irish whiskey, receiving a good tip as the younger man left it on the counter, pushing it towards her with a wink.

Y/N, one of the barmaids didn't notice any of the Shelby brothers just yet, focused on the orders and techniques she taught herself so well. Tips were pouring like never before that night, as the rich guests consistently ordered more and more. A woman with such abilities was surely never seen before in any local club around here.

Night seemed to be coming to a head as the crowd slightly dispersed, giving her a much more clear view on the whole, rather massive, room. To say she saw him right away would be a lie, but Y/N could feel an intense gaze on her hands and face as she worked, cleaning up the glasses and wiping the counter down before finally looking up.

The man she avoided for over a month, more or less successfully stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her from across the room. Despite the fact that this place was bursting at the seams, his gaze didn't falter as he watched her expression change, one much more bitter than the whiskey he held in his right hand.

”Fuck” Y/N sighed under her nose, internally rolling her eyes as she saw in her peripheral vision him slowly approaching.

Not giving him a chance to speak to her, Y/N turned around, wiping all the shelves behind her, keeping herself busy with anything, just so he wouldn't speak up. Involuntarily, the corner of her mouth raised slightly hearing his sigh of annoyance behind her back.

”Y/N” Thomas said, sitting on one of the stools. He wasn't surprised with the way she was acting, not really, knowing the situation he put them in some time ago. ”Y/N” He repeated, a little louder before dropping the glass onto the counter, causing her to huff before finally facing him.

Taking in the sight of him, already sitting by the counter, Y/N realized he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

”What the hell did I do to see you here today, Shelby?” Came out of her mouth as a greeting, her tongue effortlessly sharp as always before she cocked her eyebrow. ”Don't you have whiskey in your own pub?”

Tommy looked at her for a moment, nodding lightly with an amused smile, causing her anger to simmer even harder.

”Came to see what all the noise's about, yeah?” He offered, pushing his empty glass forward, as in a silent order for a fill up. Without missing a beat she turned it upside down, slamming against the wood in front of him.

”Unfortunately we're closing soon. Find your way out, would you?” She said, smiling so nicely in such a fake manner, Tommy internally winced.

Letting out a sigh, he got up from his chair, leaning forward on his arms.

”Don't be like that,” He insisted, looking her in the eyes.

Tommy knew how this... The whole situation looked. Without knowing the details, it was messy and he was an asshole. Like always. When usually it didn't bother him much, Tommy couldn't shake this off. So aware of what was going on in her head about him.

”Like what?” She hissed, unable to hold back the anger she held in her fear for so many days now. ”You made your choice, now don't you dare come around in a state of boredom telling me what to do!” She stated sharply, a little louder than intended which brought the attention of one of her coworkers, Diana.

She came closer, tossing the rag aside as she eyed both Thomas and Y/N, before reaching out to touch her shoulder.

”Everything alright, hun? Is this man bothering you?” She offered, narrowing her eyes without dropping his gaze.

Hearing it, Tommy smirked lightly, highly amused with how... Fitting this environment was to Y/N's combative personality.

Are all of them that feisty?

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair.

”No, Diana, it's fine he's just... A bloody idiot, he is.” She said, glaring at him before adding. ”But he's no threat. I'm fine. Get behind the bar, would you?”

After hearing an affirmative answer, Y/N grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter, walking around it and heading through the door. Tommy stood there for a moment, with his eyebrows raised in surprise. Only when Diana narrowed his eyes at him, contempt clear as day in her eyes, he rolled his own before following after Y/N.

She didn't go far, as a cloud of smoke awaited him right by the entrance, in the slightly darker side of the building. Moving closer Tommy lit his own cigarette, the air around them much different as the scenery changed. The reality heaving on his heart as he saw her hardened face.

”Y/N just let me say something, aye? If after that you decide you can't be arsed to talk to me, I'll leave.” He offered, the previous confidence and cockiness in his voice now gone. A long silence followed the echo of his low, husky tone while Tommy awaited her answer, standing nearby, yet not close enough.

Her hand was super still, eyes blank as she stared ahead for a moment.

”I simply don't understand why you're bothering me now, Shelby. It's been a couple weeks and you're suddenly back like a bloody boomerang.” Y/N made sure her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, knowing that she would be able to read her eyes, so the poor lighting was an advantage she was happily using.

He walked back and fourth a couple steps, smoking the cigarette before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his black, leather shoe.

”Campbell sent her to the Garrison. She came and sang, lied to us lot sayin' she's from Ireland.” Thomas finally spoke up, taking a step forward and keeping just the minimal, necessary distance he knew she needed. His eyes locked on her as best as he could in the dark, feeling her gaze as she hears his words. ”But Polly knew, saw her by the cut with 'im. Wore a hat, thought it would be enough to fool us.” a dry chuckle left his lips. ”After a couple meetings she started spilling, believed I felt the same. Kept talkin' and I needed to have the full view before the races.” The explanation slowly started.. having sense. But not enough to calm her nerves fully.

”No need to explain it all, no it's in the past.” She said, focusing on the black material of his tie, not looking at his face. ”You've had a long time to tell me, hell, to warm me you'd go 'round with a blonde on your arm, but you didn't. Now it's– not important.” Y/N said, involuntarily stuttering by the end of her sentence.

It was all... Hard. Hard on a different level. Before it all came to a head, it was all uncertain as well. He'd come, take her places or fuck her over the counter. He'd tell her things, but never enough to make it special. Keep his arm around her shoulders in the pub but never call her his. Y/N wasn't sure what was happening between them back then, but she liked it. Felt good around the man with blood on his hands and dimples in his cheeks. The casual flings turning into something she held dear to her heart, without trying to make it hard on him with confessions.

...but then she came around, taking all his attention. Leaving Y/N feeling like nothing important, like an underwhelming fuck he'd want to forget about.

Not calling, not talking, not coming to see her.

So she moved past it, and now he was back, suddenly scooting closer and getting ahold of her hands as she finished her cigarette, ripping her out of the dark thoughts.

”He was watching you. Knew about us, I couldn't risk them taking you to jail. Not after Arthur came back barely walking.” His voice was stern, more desperate now as he saw what seemed to be indifference in her eyes. ”Look at me, Y/N” He asked, quieter, and this worked.

It always did when he talked to her gently, using the soft tone he hasn't used with anyone else. So she looked, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

”I'm looking, Thomas. It's a lot.” She admitted, her teeth nipping on her lower lip nervously.

”I know.” He responded, leaning down for a better look on her eyes. ”Today were the races. I was supposed to take her with me so she'd sing all the missing bits into my ear.” Tommy added, his voice growing husky, breathing more ragged.

”Why the hell would you tell me that now?” She asked, frustrated with his weird tactics, jealousy gnawing on her throat. Thomas smiled lightly, not noticeably seeing it.

”Because I didn't take her. Made sure she's gone for good.” Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her eyes meeting his as she searched for the truth. He was honest. Another step closed the distance between them, his firm chest pressing lightly against her own before he leaned forward, caging her between the wall. Calloused fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up so she wouldn't look away.

Oh, how he missed the way she looked at him. These deep, expressive eyes he grew to yearn after whenever she wasn't around.

”Because when I touched her...” Tommy whispered, moving even closer. His warm breath touching her lips and chin. ”It felt like I was cheating on you.” His forehead came to rest against hers, feeling how she slightly relaxed against his body. ”I couldn't risk putting you in danger just because I so desperately need you around, Miss Y/L/N. You must forgive an old fool, eh?” His low voice slightly muffled, as his lips moved against hers in the incredibly close proximity they found themselves in.

Y/N chuckled, hearing him. The tears in her eyes remain hidden from his watchful gaze only because of the awful lighting by the pub.

”You're awful, Shelby.” She finally breathed out, leaving a small kiss, almost a peck on his lips before pushing her arms beneath his coat, wrapping them around his torso. ”Hug me, Tommy” Y/N asked quietly, touching the terrain they never explored before. The simple intimacy with no sexual undertones.

Surprisingly, Tommy couldn't imagine a better ending to this encounter as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her face into his neck.

Resting his chin on her head, Thomas knew he was the real winner, regardless of the race results.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby dark #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby dark #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy

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thanksbutno98 · 3 months ago

Text

Jail

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price ends up in jail after protecting a loved one.

Warnings: Sexual themes, violence, blood, fighting, not edited.

——————

“Date night, date night, date night.” You chanted over and over.

John was chuckling and following you close behind while puffing on a cigar. The way your ass moved in that little black dress made John very thankful for date night. You were two glasses of wine in and John knew another drink would mean he was getting lucky tonight, if he wasn’t already.

You wore a black fitted velvet dress that came to mid thigh. It was long sleeved and had a square neckline. You paired it with silver jewelry and your black red bottom heels. You knew your ass and tits looked amazing in this dress by the way John kept groping you every chance he had. Your hair was loosely pulled back and framed your face elegantly while you did natural makeup.

John dressed much simpler in his black slacks and white button down. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and top two buttons undone. John had on his silver watch and shiny black loafers. You thought he looked so handsome with his beared neatly trimmed and his fresh haircut. And he smelled nicer than he looked with his oaky cologne and beard oil.

Life had slowed down with your children out of the house besides your youngest daughter. Jj had just gotten home from his latest deployment while Evelyn was in medical school. Lily was just finishing up school and was accepted into a culinary program. John consistently made sweet comments that you were able to hold on to your figure when you had a daughter who baked so much. He on the other hand was combatting weight gain and breaking even some days due to Lily’s exquisite desserts. John wasn’t losing by much and held on to his muscular frame but had developed a softer stomach instead of his toned abs that were now hidden beneath the thin layer of fat.

Tonight you two decided since your youngest, Lily, was old enough to be home alone you’d go out. That meant dinner and drinks. Dinner was fantastic and John didn’t even look at the bill because you two definitely spent more than you should have. Now, you two were on your way to some swanky pub for drinks down the street.

Opening the door for you, you gave John a kiss while he grabbed a handful of your ass. After flicking his cigar to the ground he walked into the pub that seemed to be for a much younger demographic. There were some people your age who were enjoying themselves. The bar was upscale and had to be way too expensive for university students.

Walking in, the bar was located on the right side and stretched for about half way of the long room. The stool cushions were beige leather while the legs were a red wood that matched the shiny bar. The glass cabinets behind the bar were stocked with expensive alcohol with fairy lights twinkling behind them. To the left were half moon booths that stretched the same length of the room that the bar did. The upholstery matched the bar stools and the round tables were shiny red wood. In the back were more round tables with chairs filled with nicely dressed university students.

“How do kids this young afford a place like this.” You whispered to John as he lead you to the bar, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Mummy and daddy have fat wallets.” John joked sarcastically, then laid a kiss to your temple.

You knew John’s distain for spoiled rich kids. It truly rubbed him the wrong way to deal with anyone who had all their accomplishments handed to them. Before you could respond a familiar voice interrupted you two.

“Aren’t you two a little old to be out this late?” Your eldest daughter Evelyn smiled mischievously at you and John.

John’s entire demeanor changed seeing his eldest daughter. He went from the suave flirt he was when alone with you and shifted right back into being a father.

“Guess we’re the ones with fat wallets.” You joked, which had John chuckling.

Evelyn looked so much like you but as she grew into a young woman started to look like no one else but herself. She had her long brown hair pulled back into a white hair clip that allowed her full bangs to frame her face. As usual she wore a rosy Smokey eye with winged eyeliner and a soft pastel pink lipstick. She was dressed in black tights and a grey skirt that came just above mid thigh. Her faded green jumper was loose and showed off her white turtleneck underneath. It was paired nicely with the gold jewelry set she had been gifted by you and John when she started medical school. Your dad, Evelyn’s grandfather, liked to tell you both that you had that girl nextdoor kind of beauty that your mother had.

“Mum, you look right fit in that. Can I borrow it sometime?” Evelyn admired your dress and was gaping like a trout at how good you looked.

She was accustom to seeing you barefoot, in leggings and t-shirts with your hair tied back and a broom in one hand. You took keeping the house clean seriously and the hard work that went into that left you wanting to be comfortable in how you dressed. Evelyn admired that about you because she struggled to keep her one room flat clean and she didn’t know how you managed the entire house with only the help of her father and Lily. You use to get the whole family to help clean and it only took a couple of hours. Now with two men down it had to take a full day.

“You think?” You looked down at the outfit you were once self conscious about and blushed at the compliment.

“Yeah! God, hope I age like you. Bet no one here would guess you’re my mum, more like sister. A Jennifer Aniston, Ava Mendes, Halle Berry, Michelle Yeoh, kind of aging-so jealous!” Evelyn continued, making you giggle lightly at all the compliments. You knew she meant it too because she wasn’t usually a kiss ass to you.

“Oh stop it-“ Evelyn cut in before you could swat her compliments away.

“Sandra Bullock! She’s also aging phenomenally.” The fact Evelyn was now going on about celebrities she thought were aging beautifully was having you cackling laughing.

“Jamie Lee Curtis.” You added.

“Viola Davis!” She half shouted.

“Salma Hayek.” John said while wagging his eyebrows and appreciated the approving nods he received from you and Evelyn.

Evelyn and you continued to name beautiful actresses that you thought were aging like fine wine. It wasn’t lost on you that the actresses John named were some of the sexiest women alive. That was until your daughter brought her attention to John and gave him a judgmental look. You thought she was about to tear him down because of the actresses he was choosing to name. She could be protective when her father was being insensitive.

“And then there’s you, dad. Dressed like a store mannequin. . . Lucky man, with mum being so hot. If you two were single you’d never be able to score her now. Still don’t know how you did in the first place.” She continued and gave John’s outfit a once over and seemed to be unimpressed.

“How about you play nice and I’ll pay for you and your friend’s drinks.” John gave her a hug that she returned.

“No, they’re all a bunch of rich pricks. Just pay for mine and Archie’s.” With a big cheesy smile Evelyn moved to hug you while John nodded with a chuckle and flagged down the bartender.

“I’ll have a pear martini-“ You paused and looked to John.

“Whiskey, neat. Keep it open and put whatever she gets on my tab.” John nodded toward Evelyn and handed over his credit card. He then scanned the room until he saw Archie chatting with a group of friends.

Archie had grown into a handsome young man. No longer that scrawny little boy, Archie stood a little taller than John. Archie left behind the dorky attitude and haircut. It was swapped for a smart looking cropped cut and quiet confidence. He had also made it a habit to hit the gym so he was no longer all limbs but now had an athletic build to him. The two things that never changed were his freckles and thick rimmed rectangular glasses he’d always worn. The lenses were so thick it made it obvious he was blind as a bat without them.

“And him.” John pointed to the unsuspecting young man that remained his daughter’s best friend after all these years.

“He’s paying for some girls-“

“I’ll take care of it.” With that the bartender went on his way to make your drinks.

John had no reservation paying for Archie’s drinks and whichever young lady he was attempting to court. John saw Archie like a son and often gave him the fatherly advice Archie craved. It truly felt at times that you had four children instead of three. This had helped you and John make peace with never having a fourth child like you wanted. Because Archie was enough and fit in with you all seamlessly.

“So how’s studying.” You asked Evelyn who was happy to ignore her friends to chat with you.

Evelyn could become so immersed in her life that she would forget to check in or stop by. She was a person who gave herself to whatever life she was living. When at home, school seemed to be a distant thought and when at school or with friends, it was easy for her to forget about family.

“I would be studying now, if Archie hadn’t dragged me out to have fun.” With a shrug Evelyn took a sip of her mysterious dark drink.

The ice clinked against the glass as she brought it to her lips and took the smallest sip. After a moment you realized it was a dark and stormy and smiled how her alcoholic preferences had improved. She use to drink sweet wines that would leave most feeling sick the next day.

“Drinking that slow, I assume you want to study when you get back?” You asked which had her nodding as if she’d been caught doing something naughty.

It made you think back to when she was little and would give you that same charmingly sweet look. You were the same way at this age, putting your studies above all else; including fun. It made you happy you met John after you were established in your career or you might not have given him the time of day.

“Don’t tell Archie. He’s been on my case about ‘enjoying my twenties.’” Evelyn mocked Archie’s voice and used air quotes.

“You’ve turned out just like your mum.” John chuckled.

“Good, means I’m smart. Now I just have to figure out where I’ll be doing my special training. Archie’s already figured that out so I need to catch up.” Evelyn sighed heavily.

She never liked when someone else had things figured out before her. It was seen as the beginning stages of failure which she refused to ever let happen. Failing was not an option and much like John, Evelyn would fight tooth and nail for the things she wanted. You on the other hand made everything look easy and Evelyn was convinced you never once struggled academically.

“Could I buy you a drink?” A young man a few years older than your daughter approached the group.

He was tall, dark, and handsome. Dressed in dark blue jeans, a burnt orange sweater with a collard shirt underneath. You looked at Evelyn to see how she was about to handle being hit on. Wagging your eyebrows at her to signal the boy was cute. John on the other hand was unamused.

“I’m not interested, but-“

“Oh sorry, love. I was talking to-“ The man motioned to you.

Evelyn scoffed while you laughed audibly in this strangers face and then clamped your hand over your mouth for being so rude. Your reaction looked as if you shoved him with how he physically leaned away. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get hit on by men your own age when out like this but someone close to your son’s age was rare.

“Piss off.” John started to deeply chuckle until he was full on laughing at this man who couldn’t be any older than Jj.

“Sorry-“

“Oh my god! Don’t hit on my mum!” Evelyn loudly exclaimed making people around look over at you.

The man quickly ducked his head and walked away clearly embarrassed. Evelyn was now laughing because she had only done that to embarrass the man.

“That was-“ you spaced out for a second at how utterly ridiculous you found that. It was flattering but still, you would prefer things like that to not happen.

“Look who’s still got it! You’re a lucky man dad.” Evelyn hyped you up.

The three of you carried on and chatted about Evelyn’s studies and when she would come home next. Finding out Jj was coming home tomorrow was enough for Evelyn to agree to come back with you and John after this drink. Then you would take her to her flat and she’d pack a bag and stay the night.

“What are you drinking?” Another stranger came up but this time it was clear he was approaching Evelyn.

He was closer to John’s age which threw you off and immediately had John on guard. The middle aged man was slightly shorter than your husband. He had shaggy black hair that was greying and stubble across his chiseled face. You thought he almost looked like John Snow with how good looking he was.

“I’m not interested. Thanks though.” Evelyn barely looked his way and continued to talk to you about Lily.

“Oh c’mon it’s one drink.” The stranger insisted.

You felt John stiffen beside you at the pushy nature of what he saw as an average looking man. The gentle hold John had on your hip slipped away and bawled into a fist now resting on the bar. It was infuriating enough for John to witness you be approached by a pushy man but when it was his daughter; John became irate.

“Nope, thanks.” Evelyn waved him off.

“Oi, another of what she’s having, on me.” The man called to the bartender.

He waved his hand around Evelyn’s drink, you were focused on her eye roll while John was staring daggers at the man. John tried to step forward but you stoped him by tugging on his belt loop and pushing him back with one hand on his chest. With a sweet smile and big doe eyes that John loved you tried to distract him. Your effort was futile as John would never stand around while anyone made his daughter uncomfortable.

“I said-“ Evelyn was about to confront the man when she felt the hulking presence of her father. It was as if a looming shadow was cast over her and this stranger, causing them both to shrink under it.

“Leave her be. Or I’ll shove that drink, glass and all, so far up your ass you’ll taste it.” John practically growled.

Throwing his hands up in defeat and giving John an annoyed scoff the man stopped. John’s presence was enough to scare off most men and you were thankful it didn’t need to go past John threatening the man. But the man continued to cast dirty looks Evelyn’s way, like she had spat in his face when rejecting him.

“Just waiting for the drink I ordered. Stupid bitch.” He mumbled the last part.

You grabbed John before he could start throwing punches. It was hushed but you were begging him to stop and let it go. That those were just words and nothing truly happened. Evelyn was waving her hand at her father to calm down, annoyed he couldn’t control his temper. It was her biggest gripe with him and she had been complaining about it since she was a child.

“Hope it chokes you.” Evelyn spoke in a sugary sweet way that flustered the man. His nostrils flared and he couldn’t find a good enough retort.

Evelyn’s response calmed John down somewhat along with your quiet pleas for him to not loose his temper. That Evelyn was grown enough to handle herself and she didn’t need John to intervene. John listened to you and felt proud at his daughter’s smart mouth being used toward anyone but you and him. The man stalked off to his friends and went about his evening.

Finally your drinks arrived and Evelyn turned her back to the guy. You and her shared a wide eyed look at John’s reaction. He was radiating aggression that was suffocating. Trying to calm him down, you rubbed his toned back and whispered about how good looking he was. You told him how nice it was going to be to have a full house tomorrow. Everything would be fine and you’d laugh about this in an hour.

“Gross.” Evelyn muttered to you and you both broke out in giggles like school girls.

Evelyn went to take another sip of her drink but stopped when John’s hand was quickly placed over top of it. Turning to look at him John had his gaze set off to the side at the crowd of people.

“What?” Evelyn said defensively. She immediately thought John was saying she was drinking too much.

“Don’t drink that. The ice isn’t floating.” John was off before Evelyn could ask any more questions.

Slack jawed she watched John walk off. His broad shoulders were squared and he looked like he determined to do whatever caught his attention. John’s quick departure made your stomach drop. It was instant how you knew what he meant.

“Fuck.” You whispered.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn looked at you who seemed to understand what her father was saying.

“Your dad’s about to get himself arrested. Give me that.” You quickly took her drink and saw John was right.

Waving over the bartender he nodded to you. This was not how you wanted to spend your date night. Glancing over your shoulder you watched John push through the crowd of people and make his way to the center most booth. There was a group of men John’s age drinking beers and loudly laughing and talking.

“Um- this drinks spiked. Can you pull the security tapes and keep it back there in case-“ before you could finish, shouting broke out.

You didn’t bother looking. It was obvious to you what John was doing, but not to Evelyn who shrieked. Evelyn watched as John grabbed the man who had hit on her. He took him by the shoulders and yanked him out of the booth. To Evelyn’s horror her father dragged the man across the floor toward the door. The man’s friends jumped on John to try and stop him.

John kicked them off with ease and instead of taking this outside, he decided he’d do what he had planned in the bar. With the fury of a thousand men, John started swinging at the man who had somehow staggered in to his feet to try and get away. John was beating the snot out of the guy who had just hit on his daughter and then drugged her drink.

“What do you mean it’s spiked!?” Evelyn was looking between you and her father who had tackled the man to the floor, straddled the guy and threw punch after punch.

People were trying to pull John off but it was no use. John was glued to this guy and ready to pummel him into a pulp. It was his goal to leave this man a bloody mess on the sticky bar floor.

“When ice doesn’t float what does that mean about the liquid?” You looked at Evelyn who stared back absolutely flabbergasted by your question.

“Mum, this isn’t the time for one of your science lessons!” She snapped.

Pointing to her father you glanced over at John now trying to get the crowd of men off of him. They had dragged John off and a few people were helping the other man back to his feet.

“What does it mean?” You asked again calmly and waved off your husband. You couldn’t stop him and no part of you wanted to get involved in his violent tirade.

“Oh my god, you’re just as insane as him! It means the ice’s density is greater than the liquid.” In her frantic state Evelyn kept pushing her bangs back just for them to fall into her face again.

“Was it greater when you first got it?” You asked expectantly.

A man’s shriek caught your attention and you turned to see John chasing after the man who was trying to make a break for the door. John got ahold of him by the collar of his shirt and had him in a headlock a second later. He was trying to choke the guy out. Once again John was yanked off of the man who then tried to hobble toward the door. John dusted himself off, faked that he had calmed down, then once people let go of him was back to charging at the man.

“No- oh fuck. Dad’s gonna kill him!” Evelyn gasped.

“What the hell are you two even saying?” The bartender looked at both of you like you were crazy people.

You found it somewhat comical he didn’t seem concerned with the fight that had broken out. But John was currently being dragged off the guy by security, who were not messing around. They were having trouble keeping a hold of him. John had a firm grip on the guys hair and due to this he was being dragged along with John toward the exit. At one point John got his hands on the someone’s shoe and chucked it at a one of the bouncers and clocked him in the face.

“The ice isn’t floating.” You pointed at the ice sitting at the bottom of the drink.

Ignoring John was easier than fretting over him. He wouldn’t listen to you even if you screamed your head off. There was no use getting yourself worked up. John was going to be John and there was no changing that.

“It was floating earlier, it doesn’t just sink on its own. Means someone put something in it. For example, a roofie would do this or a huge amount of alcohol but we know that’s not possible.” You gestured to the full glass.

“Oh.” Evelyn stared at her drink blankly.

“Oh god! Mum the police are here.” Evelyn had her fingers in her hair and tugged at the roots.

“It’s fine- uhhh. We’ll bail him out, don’t worry.” You waved your hand for Evelyn to stay put but she grabbed you before you ran off.

“How are you not mad at him?” She half shrieked at you. You were her mother who hated violence and got on her, John and Jj’s case for fighting since she could remember.

“No way was I going to be able to convince him to not go after the guy. Plus anyone who tries to roofie a girl has it coming. You just happen to be our little girl so it feels a little better your father’s the one to beat the shit out of the guy.” With a shrug you turned and quickly made your way outside. You had to do that little run because you were in heels but you made it there after pushing through the crowd that had formed.

“You’re both crazy.” Evelyn’s said to herself.

Pushing through the crowd you collided with the door and burst through it. The cool night air tingled your warm skin. It completely sobered you up to see police hanging around. Putting on your sweetest smile you were prepared to do anything to get them to stop handcuffing John. John was standing calmly with his hands behind his back and being patted down.

“Do you have to arrest him? The guy tried to roofie our daughter.” You smiled sweetly as you exited the pub.

It was now your goal to do anything in your power to get John out of trouble, like you had done countless times. A small smirk broke out across John’s face seeing you act all sweet and innocent. It was one of your tactics to distract men and it almost always worked, to John’s dismay. He knew it would be hard to ignore your subtle flirting when you were dressed like the little mix John saw you as.

“Ma’am he beat the man unconscious. Yes, we have to arrest him.” The officer motioned to the man lying on the side walk and bleeding from his face. He was out cold with another officer attending to him.

“He’s military-“ You tried to explain hoping that could get John off the hook.

You batted your eyes which distracted both John and the young officer. It was impossible for John to ignore how pretty you looked when worried for him. The officer faltered for a second and then snapped out of whatever spell you had cast on him when your husband spoke.

“It’s okay, darling.” With a charming, satisfied smirk John gave you a wink.

You never thought he could look so handsome with handcuffs on and a black eye beginning to form. The sleeve of his shirt was torn at the shoulder slightly and the white fabric was smattered in beer and dirt. You and John held a searing hot gaze as he was moved to be put in the back of the cop car.

“Wait! Can I just give him a hug?” You asked before John was loaded into the back. You didn’t wait for a response and made your way toward John.

The one cop who seemed to be in charge found this amusing and nodded to the younger to let you. You gave John a hug around the middle and then a kiss to the lips. Smoothing down the front of his dirty dress shirt your slipped your hand in his back pocket and took out his cigar. John’s face split into a wide toothy grin as you offered it to him and he happily took it between his teeth. Letting out a breathy giggle you lit the cigar for John and left him with one last kiss to the cheek before keeping his lighter.

“So I doesn’t get stolen.” You returned the wink from a moment ago.

The two of you continued to stare deeply into one another’s eyes, absolutely captivated by the other. John found you to be the most divine woman to walk this earth. With your sweet flirty smile and big bright eyes, he was falling in love all over again.

John got into the back of the police car and to you it seemed like neither officer truly wanted to bring him in. They were looking between you two as if you were love sick teens. Only you and John had been married for so long and had built a life together. That kind of awe and wonder of young love never truly left but could come out in moments of adoration like tonight.

“Would’ve done the same thing ma’am. Come and collect him once everything with your daughter is settled. We’ll process him quickly.” The officer patted your back lightly and then went on his way.

“Thank you.” You smiled and went to go back inside.

“God, your parents are so in love.” Evelyn’s friend Isabel sighed in a day dream like state. They were watching the exchange from the window.

“I want someone to love me like that.” Archie drunkenly pointed at you.

“Don’t we all.” Evelyn sighed in mock annoyance.

——————

“My wife here yet?” John called from where he sat in the holding cell.

John had been there for over an hour just twiddling his thumbs. It was him and one other man who was piss drunk, Charlie. The older man who looked down on his luck was sitting on the floor in their corner and babbling on and on about god knows what.

John had realized once he was being processed his watch was gone. It made him laugh to himself that you had slipped it off of him when you grabbed his cigar. You had been practicing slight of hand since the your kids were little. Clearly you were good enough to be able to get John’s watch without him or the officers around noticing.

John was trying to distract himself as he waited for you to bail him out. He was thinking about stopping and getting something sweet on the way home or asking you to make him something. That was when a police officer came in with another man to join John and Charlie. John lit up like it was Christmas morning.

It was the man who drugged Evelyn’s drink.

“What a treat.” John smiled devilishly.

You were standing at the front of the precinct having just bailed your husband out. You kept getting glances from passing male officers that had you regretting your outfit. Tugging at the hem of the dress you wiggled it down a bit and awkwardly waved to an officer who was staring at you longer than you liked.

“So you just bring him out and I wait here?” You asked the man at the desk who sighed loudly.

This was the last thing he felt like explaining, you were certain of that. He seemed completely uninterested and like he would rather be anywhere else. Then he stared at your cleavage and then looked back up at your eyes before answering.

“Where else would you wait for him?” The officer asked condescendingly.

The rude tone had you straightening up and ready to tell him exactly where he could go. You opened your mouth with an insult on the tip of your tongue but you were interrupted.

“AHH~” You perked up at the sound of a man’s high pitched shriek from down the hall behind the desk. The shouting didn’t stop and it sounded like a horror movie scene where someone was screaming and begging for their life.

“BREAK IT UP!” There was more shouting after that and you watched as two more officer went jogging down the hall and took a right to the holding cell out of view.

A few minutes later you watched your husband appear at the end of the hall. He was being escorted by two officers who looked angry while John seemed rather proud of himself. John had the hugest smirk plastered across his face and perked up even more when he caught sight of you. That charming energy came flooding back to John making you feel giddy.

“Take him.” One of the officers shoved John in your direction.

“And if you pull shit like that again you’ll get sued into oblivion!” The officer warned John by putting his finger in your husbands face like he was a petulant child. John put his hands up pretending to be innocent and you could tell by the smug look plastered across his face he felt he had done nothing wrong.

“What’d you do?” You asked as John took your hand and walked toward the door.

He had no intention of waiting around. John wanted to go home and take his beautiful wife to bed after a much needed shower. Then something sweet would be needed before bed and he could call tonight a successful date night.

“Idiot put that prick in the same cell as me. Oh, and nice job getting my watch.” John snickered as he held the door for you.

“I don’t want to know what you did to him. . . But it was probably cruel and over the top. And thanks.” You scoffed while squeezing John’s hand and leading him toward your car.

“You know me so well.” With that said John scooped you up causing you to squeal in delight.

He carried you bridal style over to the car after whispering all the naughty things he was planning to do to you when you got home. Kicking your legs you kissed his neck and egged John on to tell you more. By the time you were getting into the passenger seat John’s calloused hand was under your skirt and groping your ass.

John practically had his tongue down your throat while you made out in the passenger seat with him leaning over you. Your skin felt hot and a warm feeling was flooding your knickers. It was intoxicating having his hand under your skirt and thumb rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves that made you go cross eyed. Finally you pushed him off and told him to take you home so you could have your way with him. You didn’t need to get a talking to for making out in the car park of the police station.

John happily obliged and buckled you up so he could pinch your bottom one last time. The ride home was spent humming along to music and stealing glances that lasted a few seconds too long. Finally, after one long look from John where his icy eyes roamed your body you had enough. Holding on to your desire wasn’t possible, waiting to get home wasn’t an option. You needed him now.

“You should pull over.” You smiled mischievously.

“Hm?” John looked over to you and then his gorgeous blue eyes went wide.

He watched as you slid your pretty red panties off and tossed them in his lap. The two of you were on the same page. As much as rolling around in the sheets was what you wanted, a quickie was what you needed. Then round two could commence as soon as you two got in the shower together.

“Pull over.” You purred.

“Yes ma’am.”

——————

Hours had passed since Evelyn watched her dad get taken away in handcuffs and you told her to take a cab to the house. As soon as she was in said cab, Evelyn was calling Jj to let him know what happened. Jj was cackling and rushing home to see the aftermath.

“Where the hell are they?” Lily was hanging around the kitchen with Evelyn and Jj waiting for you and their father to come home.

Everyone rushed home to hear more about it and get on their father’s case for going to jail. Lily had gone to a friend’s without telling you or John and felt lucky that Jj called and told her everyone was heading home. Only it was taking you a lot longer to get home than the kids originally thought.

To their surprise their grandfathers car pulled up the driveway and out stepped you and John. You looked humiliated and John was trying to hide his smirk while your dad scolded him. It was loud enough Jj, Evelyn, and Lily could hear him shouting but not able to make out what he was saying.

“Why’s papa mad at dad?” Jj scratched his head.

Seeing your dad a few inches from John’s face and tearing him a new one was not how you expected date night to end. The fiery rage in his eyes was directed at you a moment later and you instantly felt like a little kid again. Shrinking under his disapproving eyes you wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

“Jesus, he’s laying into them.” Evelyn was watching you and John with your heads cast down.

You were tapping your bare feet while John had his lips pursed to keep himself from laughing. After a breath you didn’t give your dad a chance to keep going and made your way to the door with your heels in hand. John was right behind you and high tailing it inside.

“What took you so long?” Evelyn asked when you came through the door.

Everyone was looking at you, confused how you became visibly flustered by the question. Forcing a smile you shook your head and opened your mouth. It took you a moment to speak, your mind clearly wandering to something.

“Oh, nothing.” You looked and sounded guilty.

“Nothing.” John nodded in agreement. He seemed a lot more held together than you.

It was obvious to Jj that something happened by how his father was crowding your space and standing a little closer than he usually did. In fact John was practically breathing down your neck as you two shuffled into the kitchen. The siblings were sharing looks while you poured a glass of water and John started the kettle.

Your dad could still be seen on the patio. He was staring out into the yard with his back to the house. All your children had seen him do this before when he was particularly mad at you. It was how he gathered himself before he started screaming his head off.

“Nothing happened?” Jj asked you since he knew he wouldn’t be able to read his father.

“Yup.” You nodded and avoided eye contact.

“They’re liars-“ coming into the house your father was like a tornado ready to tear everything apart.

“Dad!” Your voice was high pitched, a silent plea for him to stop talking.

“Got arrested for humping like teenagers in the back of their car.” Your dad barked at you.

John finally broke and started laughing uncontrollably. He had to hold on to the sink to keep himself steady. This did not amuse your father and he was gearing up to turn on John next. Getting a call from his grown daughter who needed to be bailed out along with her husband sent your dad into a tail spin. He spent the entire ride from the police station shouting at you and berating John.

“OH MY GOD!” Evelyn shrieked.

“That’s disgusting!” Jj threw his hands up, looking at you as if you lost your mind.

“Woah. . . WAIT! Mum you got arrested!?” Lily went from unimpressed to shocked.

This was not how your children saw you or John. Yes, they knew you two were flirty with each other. It was hard to ignore the passing glances and how you both playfully patted the other on the bum. But doing something like hooking up in the back of your car was unimaginable to them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You were burning with embarrassment.

John’s uncontrollable laughter wasn’t helping you deal with the looks of disgust your two oldest had etched across their faces. Lily on the other hand didn’t seem interested in the conversation.

“We sit back there!” Jj practically yelled.

“And you’ve napped in our bed. What’s the difference?” John was just catching his breath.

His comment had Jj looking mortified and then John’s laughter kicked back up again at bursting his son’s bubble.

“Don’t let her fool you she’s been arrested before.” Your dad laughed loudly.

This was it, his punishment. It would be to air out your dirty laundry. You were an adult now, he couldn’t exactly ground you but maybe embarrassing you would keep you from acting so foolish again.

“Dad!” You hissed.

“WHAT!?” Your children shouted in your direction.

“Darling, why’ve you never told me about your criminal history?” John was belly laughing, unable to catch his breath and now leaning over the counter in his fit of hysterics. He knew everything about you, he was only teasing.

“You two can never get mad at us for anything, ever again.” Evelyn told you both.

“That’s not all!” Your dad was grinning like an idiot, looking proud of himself.

“I’ll kick your ass if you say another word!” You half shouted at your dad.

“Kick my ass?” He looked amused by the threat.

“Well. No. I’ll have John do it.” Meekly you pointed to John with your thumb.

Your dad and John shared a look. John shrugged and jokingly put his fists up. This had your dad chuckling deeply and shaking his head.

“Fine, but your mums no saint.” Your dad told your children who burst into endless questions.

“I know.” John grinned devilishly at you.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 year ago

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 5 ] || [ Chapter 7 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: firing guns, i guess (but John's teaching you). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 6: John.

You crossed the entrance to the small pub, head held high, in your most honest attempt at feigning confidence.

After you had accepted, jokingly, to meet with this ‘Captain John’, only as an opportunity to roast the three men behind the account some more, Kyle had reached out to you, through John’s account, saying he also accepted and wanted to meet you today, Friday night, at 8 P.M.

You almost backed out.

Keyword, almost.

Because when you went to your groupchat to ask for support from them, your girlfriends encouraged you.

You almost set a Siri reminder to get better friends.

Either way, you have to admit that it feels… better to meet up John. Your heart is still a bit sore, the wound of heartbreak still struggling to swell closed…

Meeting with Simon or Kyle or Johnny would’ve meant rehashing it. You couldn’t risk getting attached to them after a night of casual sex. But there’s no expectations here… John is older than you, than them. This is just drinks, according to Kyle. He had insisted, in fact, that it be just drinks.

It felt more comforting to know you weren’t expected to go home with him at the end… Even though he’s handsome enough that you wouldn’t exactly refuse had your heart not been in its current state.

So, here you are. You keep his Tinder profile open on your phone, like it has been since you left the house, trying to memorize his features so that when you spot him, you recognize him instantly.

In a way, this feels like a blind date… And it’s strangely exciting.

You spot him from the door the moment your eyes scan the room. He’s at a table in the far corner, his back against the wall, taking up a bar stool. You stop by the bar before making your way over, getting yourself a drink.

You’re not sure if he’s spotted you, if he knows who you are. So you take the time to get a proper look at him that isn’t through a grainy picture on your phone.

He’s about as wide as he is tall and his forearms are covered in hair (“built like a bear”, check.). He’s got a tumbler of ambar liquid in front of him, you can infer it’s whiskey (“likes Whiskey”, check.). His beard is a bit thicker than in the pictures you were sent, and he looks knackered, his eyes surrounded by heavy dark circles.

He sits with his back straight, however his head hangs low and he keeps looking around through his eyebrows like he’s suspicious of everyone. His legs are spread, heels hooked on the footrest of the stool, the jeans he wears clinging tight to his strong thighs. His hands hang limply between them. He’s wearing a maroon button-up atop a white crewneck t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show a black watch on his left wrist.

In short, he’s handsome. And does not look his age.

Stopping in front of the table, you offer him a smile. “John?” You ask, as if you don’t already know it’s you.

He seems to finally notice you, and his harsh face softens with a smile that scrunches his nose.

“Hi. How are you?” He asks politely as he pulls back the stool on his right side for you. You take the seat, squirming a bit as you look for a good position.

“Can’t complain. You alright?” You return and you catch how he looks at you, up and down, his head hanging low, as he glances at you.

“What are you drinking?” He asks.

“Oh, just… a Sprite.” You answer as you keep glancing at him.

He goes quiet and nods, looking away for a moment, giving you every indication that he’s not interested in being here.

“I get it, you know.” You say after a beat of long, strenuous silence.

John’s blue eyes immediately flitter over to you, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Get what?” He asks with a mix of confusion and disdain in him.

“Being forced to go out… Meet someone.” You explain as you sip your Sprite through the black straw the bartender gave you.

“Oh, really?” He retorts as he leans his left elbow on the round table and swivels to look over at you.

“Oh, yeah.” You say with a nod. “Recovering from a break-up.” You tell him. “My friends put me up to the whole… dating app-get laid thing. So, I get it. It’s… awkward.” You add.

“Hm.” He says with a nod and presses his lips together a bit, as if conceding to you.

“We don’t have to make this a whole thing, if you don’t want to.” You tell him and smile a bit. “I can leave, if you’d like. Or you can.” You offer, noticing how his eyes soften a little.

“No… it’s alright…” He tells you. His eyes slip away from you and he looks down at his lap, blinking a little. He seems… a bit lost in thought. He goes quiet again.

“Okay, then.” You say simply. “I just figured you needed a distraction, you know… Your lads were complaining about you being stressed…” You add, your eyes stuck on him, to try and spot his reaction.

He curls his fists closed and then uncurls them, running his clammy palms over his jeans for a moment. Then, he inhales sharply before slapping his hands on his thighs and turning to you swiftly.

“You ever shot a gun before?” He asks you, causing your brows to raise in surprise.

“No?” You answer, watching as he downs the rest of his whiskey and jumps down from his stool.

“C’mon. I’m teaching you.” He demands as he contours the table and helps you down, guiding you back out of the pub.

“Bend your arms about 10 degrees at the elbows.” John tells you from behind you, his big rough hands adjusting your shape with tender but determined touches.

John’s driven you to a firing club’s range just outside of London. You’ve been at this for an hour now and it’s… surprisingly fun.

You’ve yet to land a proper shot, your arms always shaking a little out of aim… But you’ve landed them in the target, which is more than you thought you were going to succeed.

“How the fuck do you handle this every day? This damn rifle is heavy, my arms hurt and we’ve only been practicing for an hour!” You tell him after firing another shot that did not land.

“Lots of practice, love.” He replies, his tone amused. He stepped up behind you, once more fixing your stance, giving little taps to your hip with one of his large hands to force you to stiffen.

John’s been trying not to snicker every time you fire. At first it was because you were flinching, but now it’s because your aim is that bad. But you don’t mind the mockery. He’s got a smile on his face, his smile lines and nose all crinkled.

“Go on, again.” He demands as he helps adjust you, his breath brushing against your ear, the warmth of his torso against your back, and his eyes above the rifle, to try and see if you’re in target. He makes some last second adjustments and then you fire.

This time it was a bull’s eye. “THERE WE GO!” You cheer for yourself and shimmy your shoulders a little while holding the rifle steady. This time, John doesn’t contain himself, and fully laughs. Deep and rich, right next to your ear, making you shiver a bit, your skin covered in goosebumps.

“Good job.” He praises you and gived you another little tap on your hip, this time, sort of catching the side of your ass. Your eyes widen a bit in surprise and you bite your lip before looking up at him.

“You’ve had enough yet?” He asks you with a cocked brow as you lower the rifle into a safe handle, pointing down and to the side.

“Depends.” You find yourself saying as he takes the rifle from you to return at the rental counter.

“On what, love?” He asks you, eyes locked on yours as you turn to face him fully. He seems to be in a much better mood.

“Me having enough of shooting…” You trail off. “Will that end the night? Are you going to drop me off at home?” You ask him.

His eyebrows raise for a bit, but then they lower and his eyes narrow as a ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Oh no, I’m taking you home, but not dropping you off. I’m spending the night with you.” He assures you.

Then, he walks off out to the armory counter, as if he hasn’t just said that.

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