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vettelsvee · 3 months ago

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THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…”

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.

“You know this has been really hard for me…”

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”

“Y/N, I know…”

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

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biteyoubiteme · 10 months ago

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redlightdesign

fem!reader x hyunjin

synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist.

warnings: !!!🔞!!! tattooartist!hyunjin, tattooing, needles, pain, oral (f!rec), use of teeth, overstim, multiple orgasms (f!rec), squirting, fingering, pussydrunkvibes, subspace kinda, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 5.2k

an: I want a new tattoo </3 feedback appreciated! [m.list] not proof read sorry ;-;

You didn’t think you would ever get a consolation let alone an appointment with redlightdesign. For over three years you have been submitting a request anytime their books were open. You set timers for when the form dropped to make sure you were one of the first to be seen but everyone was doing the exact same thing.

redlightdesign would make an announcement that the submissions were closed an hour later saying they were booked solid for the next three months. The process repeats itself and every time you pray you get a response.

Thirteen forms later and you finally got an answer. Your dream tattoo will be underway in a matter of weeks. You made sure to keep the perfect space open for the piece. Not a single artist is the right fit to do your idea justice the way Redlightdesign could.

Before you read the email you didn’t even think you would ever be picked, your thigh would just always be bare for the possibility that never would come to fruition. But sitting in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning avoiding finishing your homework for Monday's class you jump on the opportunity to check your phone when it dings. Post notifications for redlightdesign on since you started following them. Every time they announced open books or a dropped appointment you jumped to put yourself up for the running. You remember the magazine article Redlightdsign had been featured in that started your obsession. The anonymous tattoo artist is based in Seattle and New York, traveling across the states to get a wider audience. Not that they needed the help, they were globally known, with people submitting forms all around the world, purchasing plane tickets after they confirmed an appointment.

It was stiff competition and the anonymity of the artist was sacred to each client. There was barely any information about Redlightdesign on the internet besides the finished product, and the address to their studios was only given out just before your appointment. Once the details of the New York studio had been doxxed online and redlightdesign had stopped working for a year, packing up and shutting down in well deserved retaliation. When they came back to their socials they made it clear the next time they wouldn't stop for a year but quit entirely. No one shared any information after, only stating that Redlightdesign was one of the nicest people they have ever been tattooed by and a photo of the beautiful work after.

But there sipping on an almost empty drink avoiding work that needed to be done you felt your pulse race just like every other time you've submitted a form. Only this time your stomach bottomed out seeing the email that popped up in your inbox a few minutes later.

h.rldesign/gmail.com Hi, I love your idea and sketches. I think this would transfer perfectly in my style. If we are to do the piece on the thigh at the size you want I think it's best we split the work into two appointments. My open slots for this would be January 9th and 10th. Let me know if these dates work for you and then I can get started on designing and cleaning up your idea. -redlightdesign

even just knowing their email address was shocking enough, seeing a response could have sent you into a coma. If Redlightdesign needed you on the 9th and 10th you would do everything in your power to be right at their door. You didn't care if you had to call in sick, you would put on the most convincing fake cough known to man; you would sell out stadiums with the performance if need be.

You couldn't type a response fast enough, needing to send in a confirmation just to know it was solidified. Within seconds you got a link for a deposit to hold the dates and a promise that Redlightdesign would be working on your piece asap. You were too excited to even think about your work anymore, sitting in the coffee shop staring down at your phone in disbelief.

It was only a few days later when the first drafts of the tattoo you would be getting were sent over for you to approve. You could tell the work had been drawn in a sketchbook and scanned to send in an email, the charcoal lines and highlights showing the detailed work. It was everything you could have hoped for, redlightdesign taking the amateur rendering of your idea and turning it into the masterpiece sitting in your inbox. They promised to have perfected versions ready when you arrived early on the ninth, reminding you that they would transfer it into the stencil and use a pen to finish drawing the finishing touches to make sure it flowed with your body just right. Make sure to eat before the appointment and don't wear any lotions on the tattoo area. Take care to remember we can take as many breaks as you want you have the day booked up with me so no need to rush through just to get it over with.

You made sure to dress appropriately. A pair of shorts you didn’t mind getting ink on in case any decided to ruin them. It was cold the morning of the ninth, a drizzle setting in as you made your way towards the address you had been sent before you had woken up. Even just seeing the street name and knowing this whole time you’ve been a fifteen-minute walk away from Redlights studio was bizarre. How many times have you driven by the building without ever knowing?

The email with the address had said the door would be open and to take the stairs up to the loft. The separate space on the ground level was a bakery, the sign flipped to closed. But as you felt the first droplets of rain you pulled on the handle for the door only for it to not budge. You check the address again to make sure it is right, you can see the windows to the studio above but the curtains are pulled shut. You were running over the email you could send to redlightdesign, reading it over once more when someone reached past you making you jump. “holy shit you almost gave me a heart attack,” you breathe your phone pressed to your chest.

The soft laugh of the person beside you is muffled behind the black medical mask they wear, long dark hair hanging on their brow leaving only smiling eyes glancing over you. “I'm sorry I was running late and didn't make it in time to beat you here,” they push their key into the lock twisting until it clicks, painted nails wrapping around the handle to hold the door open for you.

You give a weak thanks stepping into the little hallway leading to the stairs waiting for them to step in and follow.

You're trying hard not to make it seem like you're staring at them but it's almost impossible not to. Right in front of you is the person whose identity has been hidden from the public for years. You've tried to imagine what redlightdesign looked like since you read that magazine article. Now with the early morning mist still stuck to their hair you were seconds away from knowing exactly what they were like. Watching how their long fingers flipped over the keys looking for the one to unlock the loft door, how they used their shoulder to push open the door turning back to give you smiling eyes, waving you in.

They moved around to pull open the long cream-colored curtains, the gray light pouring in revealing the space. The walls have tacked up charcoal drawings, painted landscapes, and oil pastel flowers. A worn brown leather couch pushed to one side, heavy white blanket pushed back like someone had taken a nap there against the throw pillows. Tattoo bed next to rows of inks and past designs. On another wall a cluster of polaroids, stepping closer you can see its every tattoo that redlightdesign has done here. You're excited to see ones they haven't posted on their socials, so distracted you don't hear a closet door opening and the wheeling of a cart behind you. “I wanted to be set up so we could get started right away but,” when you turn you see them shrug. The view outside of the waterfront off in the distance matches some of the paintings done during different times of the day.

“It's okay I can wait, we're booked all day right?”

“yes that's right,” they go through their bag pulling out a large sketchbook, “here take a seat and we can go over some of these together,”

they sink into the couch pushing back the blanket to make room for you to follow. Your thighs touching before they hand over the sketchbook. You're amazed by the craftsmanship, and the detail put into each variety of the tattoo idea you have given them. No other artist has given you so many possibilities, maybe one of two but a whole spread dedicated to small details was never on the table. redlightdesign had taken time working through this with passion. “Wow,” you breathe not knowing where to look first.

“do you like it? It's a big thing, a tattoo of this size, and I wanted to make sure it really had all the elements you wanted in it while also not being too chaotic and messy. You see this one has less shading and seems more open but this one is heavy-handed if you're into that kinda style. I see you have other work done on your arms and if you want to go that way style-wise I think this one would be perfect,” they point at the one you've been focused on knowing that it was exactly what you wanted.

“It's amazing, they all are, I'm so impressed redli-“

“Hyunjin, you can call me Hyunjin,” they chuckle, “I should have introduced myself earlier but I was late and it slipped my mind I'm sorry,”

“no, it's okay thank you hyunjin,” you try the name in your mouth, “I think this is exactly what I want, better than what I could have imagined,”

“great I'm happy to impress let me get this printed in a stencil and we can add anything else after we find the right placement,” you watch as they stand moving to the corner with a desk, you can't see their face but know they've taken their mask off as they turn on the printer. “Do you live around here or was it a commute?”

“oh I live right up the street, I was surprised to see how close it was to my place actually,” you say over the sound of the scanner.

“that's good, sometimes I have people coming from all over it's fun to finally have a local visit,”

“I would have come out to New York if that's where you would have been,” you admit.

“I haven't been out there in a while, they are doing construction on the street the studio is on so I've been located here for a while now,” he states pulling out the stencil sheet. “I did a few different sizes to start with,”

he turns around and you're shocked at how beautiful Hyunjin is. In all the time you've thought about redlightdesign never did it cross your mind to account for prettiness but if you did your scale would be broken. You're still seated when he comes over and kneels in front of you.

“Can I?” he asks looking up at you, your hands in your lap covering your thighs.

“oh yeah sure,” you're flustered lifting your hands away.

“left or right?” he asks, holding two of the stencils over each leg.

“right,” your hands sinking into the couch as Hyunjin wipes his thumb over your bare thigh. He shows you the three different sizes and you decide on one before he asks you to stand in front of the mirror so he can place the stencil on.

“Here,” he mutters, being gentle to get the placement right in the first go. “We can always print more if you don't like it here,” he blows cool air over the purple lines traced on to make sure it's dry enough for you to move. He slides his hand behind the pit of your knee tugging your leg. You reach out to steady yourself with his shoulders, the backs of your hands feeling the tickle of his long hair hanging past his ears. He lifts your leg enough so that your foot is resting on his thigh, his hands slipping over your skin checking it looks good.

You love the way he's found the perfect spot on your thigh so that it flows with your body, “I think you got it first try,”

“Look in the mirror first just to make sure,” he lets you go, pulling himself to stand behind you so that you can see yourself.

“yes it's perfect,” and he nods, grabbing a purple pen.

“finishing touches then,” he gets back down in front of you lifting your foot back to his knee so that he can steady you. The marker is cold on your skin as he draws, adding lines and shading in spots to make the work blend better. When he blows on the wet lines of ink you shiver especially when he draws on your inner thigh, your skin so sensitive you swear you could imagine his fingers tracing shapes instead of the pen. “Perfect,” he states, giving your knee a tap letting you know he's done. “Let me set up and if you need the bathroom before we start I'd go now. I have water and a kettle for coffee over under the desk, and we can stop for lunch around let's say twelve or one-ish?”

You nod, taking your seat on the tattoo bed. He's set it up so that you're slightly leaned back but still sitting up. You watch him pull on black gloves and get all of the inks and needles ready, following a system you've seen done before. He clicks on a stereo the soft song playing in the background just loud enough for us to talk if we wanted to or just to listen. you adjust in your seat when you hear the sound of the tattoo gun whirring, hyunjins free hand stretching your skin in preparation, “The hard part will be around the knee so let's get that area out of the way,”

you nod watching as he starts, the familiar burn of the needle digging in but not too painfully. He was right that it was worse than some of your other tattoos but not unbearable. What distracts you is how concentrated he looks leaning over your leg, hair pushed back behind his ears but one strand hangs across his forehead, the corner of his lip between his teeth.

He starts to ask you small questions about yourself, the conversation leading to learning about him and how he got into tattooing. He talks about his art and the little things he likes. Both of you are so invested in one another that you don't even notice how far you've come in the day, lunch already rolling around before you know it. He's gotten through more than half the outline when he starts the loose wrap to keep it clean while you go out for lunch. The bakery is just downstairs offering lunch deals you can't refuse and when you get back upstairs both of you sit on the couch and continue your conversation. Giggling over nothing much but being comfortable in each other's company more than what you could have asked for.

redlightdesign could have been a total dick but you were blessed enough to get someone so genuinely kind and talented. And when you got back in the chair to finish the day's session you were sad to know that tomorrow would be the last time you saw Hyunjin unless you somehow got another appointment. The idea in it of itself was making you dread leaving.

“Could you tie my hair up?” he asks lifting his wrist up to you, a hair band waiting for you to take off. You lean over taking the tie from him and running your fingers through the dark strands. He hums as you brush the hair from his face gathering it all to tie into a ponytail. “thank you,” he nods letting the end bob up and down, a sweet smile teasing his lips before he goes back to the linework.

When he finally declares you done for the day you sigh, his thumb smoothing over the ends of the tape he's put to hold the wrap he put over your thigh. His finger slips across your inner thigh making you jolt harder than when the needle was to your skin. “sensitive?” he asks and you nod, not wanting to think too much into it. You were definitely sensitive but not from the pain, watching his long fingers work over your skin didn't put the cleanest image in your head.

He starts to break down his workstation, cleaning up and wiping everything to disinfect. While you put on your coat he asks, “Do you want to get dinner?” you turn to make sure he is not on the phone but he is in fact asking you, “I know this great spot a block over it's not that far a walk if you're up for it?”

“Sure,” you nod and he rubs the back of his neck.

“You know if you're not busy or anything I don't usually ask clients out for dinner but we were having a good chat and you know if you don't want to,” he drags on his ears pink, it was cute to watch him flustered.

“I'd love to go to dinner with you hyunjin,” you smile following him out.

You share an umbrella as you make your way to the small cafe-style restaurant, outdoor seating covered with a canopy so you won't get hit by any rain. Sitting across from one another, Hyunjin asks to see your other tattoos. You lay one arm down on the table, hyunjins fingertips ghosting over your skin as he traces the lines of all your other work. “I think I've seen this one before, did you get it from Felix? Or what's his username…”

“youg.ink?” you nod, “I actually got it because I saw you mentioned them before and it introduced me to their work. instantly fell in love with this when he offered it up,”

hyunjins not even paying attention to the tattoos anymore as he lets his fingers glide over your smooth skin. Most times after a client was done for the day in his chair he walked them to the door, waved goodbye, and worked in the studio on the next person's design. Most times he had people who he didn't mind not seeing again but you and your laugh, your gentle conversation, made him want to break his own rules for once. He walks you home after dinner and promises to see you tomorrow at the same time.

When you show up for your second session you're double fisting two iced coffees; the door is already unlocked as you make your way up the stairs. Hyunjin is sitting at the desk with headphones on sketching away before he sees the movement in the corner of his eye. He gives you a big smile, all teeth and is so cute. He tugs his headphones off letting them hang around his neck, “you got me a coffee?”

“Maybe or maybe I have a caffeine addiction,” you joke, handing over his cup. You look over to see what he's working on and he leans back to give you a better view.

“The next client wants their back done, it will be spaced out over the next four months. first sessions tomorrow,”

“I wouldn't even know where to start on something that big,”

“the same way I started yours,” he looks down at your legs, the wrap still in place only today you're wearing a skirt instead of shorts. The only other clothing item you felt would give him space to work today. Hyunjin looks back to his sketchbook, shutting it and standing. “let's get you up on the chair and get started,”

you follow his instructions, sinking back into the chair and letting your skirt bunch between your legs to expose your thigh. Hyunjin starts to set up his station, pulling on his gloves after flipping to the sketch of your design to have to glance at while he works. “might hurt today with all the shading if you need any breaks let me know we can go as slow as you need,” he peels away the tape before cleaning your leg with a towel and watered down soap. “It already looks good,” he nods, pressing around the tattoo.

“I think I can handle it,”

“Okay, we can work the bottom to the top again today, get the area closest to the knee and get the most painful bit first,”

and you think you can handle it and you can for the most part but the dragging of the needle over the still red outline from yesterday is painful today. Your hand bunching in your skirt as you remind yourself to breathe. You let your head roll back in the chair not able to watch anymore, focusing on the music playing, the dull hum of the tattoo gun usually comforting you but now a reminder that you're here for a while.

hyunjin is trying to concentrate, he's great at what he does, but what's testing him is how you're flashing your panties at him. he was going to say something, bring up a conversation about anything but when he looked up, a simple glance he was face to face with the dark grey fabric, the outline of you silencing him. You didn't even notice, your neck exposed as your free hand not holding your skirt gripped the armrest.

Tattooing people made nudity and almost nudity normal. It was why Hyunjin preferred his private studio so that he could make people feel comfortable, it was better than having someone who wanted a hip tattoo strip in a shop where anyone could watch. But with you sitting in front of him he forgot that he shouldn't look so close. Because instead of ignoring the view he was imagining ways that he could make your pain more bearable. Imagining how if he reached over and brushed where he knew your clit would be waiting you wouldn't be moaning in pain.

It's not until lunch that your skirt is let go but it's done the work of keeping Hyunjin hard for the entirety of the progress he's made toward the tattoo. When he sprays the tattoo down with the soapy water beads roll back up your leg because of the way the chairs are angled. The cold water feels great against your hot skin and Hyunjin apologizes for the mess passing you a paper towel to wipe any that got too far. You slightly lift your leg to wipe your inner thighs, the movement flashing Hyunjin again only this time the droplets of water had dampened your panties. The gray fabric was dark where he had been fantasizing they would be.

He doesn't even want to think about standing from his stool knowing that the second he does he will have to adjust himself only drawing attention to the fact he is very hard. He tries to make a list of things in his head as he wraps your thigh. To think about how it's almost over, that you will be gone in the next hour or two but that only makes it worse. You would be gone when he was this needy? He wanted to make an excuse to have you come back for another session. But it was quite obvious he would be dragging out the appointment when he only needed to do a small section when the two of you were done with lunch. He could have waited and finished, pushed your lunch back, and waved goodbye but no.

He swiveled his chair away from you, taking a sip from his almost empty cup of coffee as you slid down the bed to stand. Hyunjin takes a breath and prays you don't notice but it's the first thing you see when he turns, the strained outline not very well hidden. You pretend to look out the window, feeling your cheeks get hot. All you can think about is if it was your noises that did it, all the whimpering wasn't usually how you handled tattoos but this one was the biggest piece you've gotten, and didn't know two sessions would make your usually composed self break so easily. it would explain the silence compared to yesterday. So you toy with the idea, how far would he go if you made yourself available?

You grabbed lunch together, hyunjin putting a pillow over his lap to steady his plate of food but both of you knew that wasn't the real reason. And when you were back in the chair you intentionally let your skirt roll up this time. It doesn't help that he's now working on the part of the tattoo closest to your center, how he wraps his hand around your thigh, pushing your legs further apart to reach a spot on your inner thigh. Gloved fingers brushing over your panties for the smallest second, your hips sinking into the seat to keep yourself from moving. Hyunjin noticed but needed to get through the rest of the tattoo, if he stopped now he wouldn't know when he would start again. Your lip between your teeth he watched as you tried to close your legs again to block your exposed panties, now wet with your slick and nothing else. He could see the spot and almost ripped his gloves off as soon as he finished his work. But now he was teasing you. Cleaning the tattoo down and wiping it down. He doesn't even bother with the normal photos he would take right away instead putting on the second skin to protect the tattoo. As he smooths the thin film over your inner thigh he lets his fingers slip up brushing against your center to see your reaction.

Your head rolls to your shoulder watching him through your lashes as he takes off his gloves and tosses them on the cart. He lifts the armrest on the tattoo chair before reaching behind your knees to pull you to the edge of the seat so your legs are dangling off the side. “how is it someone can make the prettiest sounds and sit so still for me?” he leans down and plants a kiss on your tattooless thigh, “because all I could think about was how I wanted to see your legs shaking for me while you whined like that,”

you tried to draw your knees together but he was in the way, kissing up your inner thigh, nipping at your skin with his teeth. When he reached your skirt he flipped it up with a lazy hand giving you no time before his thumb was over your clit rubbing a harsh circle over the fabric. You felt the shock run up to your stomach, your voice breathy as you whimpered his name. He followed the wet line down the front of your panties before hooking his finger along the seam to pull them back. He wanted one taste, needed one taste but knew he wouldn't stop at just one, not when you looked this edible and ready for him.

He ravages your clit, your hands shooting to his head burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks. He's careful of your tattoo but your other thigh is fair game for him to wrap his arm around and push you open, fingers bruising with how he spreads you. His free hand prodded your entrance, circling in your wetness before slipping in knuckle deep. “Hyunjin,” you whine, your hips rocking against his lips, feeling the build up of your orgasm. He curls his fingers pressing up into you enough to make your legs jerk from the new angle.

You're seeing spot before too long, hips stuttering as he gives a final hard suck, fingers still as you clench around them. You're moaning so loud you're sure someone will hear but you don't even care. Hyunjin doesn't stop the flick of his tongue against your clit making you cry out, “I said I wanted to see them shake,” devilish smile covered in your slick before he latches on to your clit again. Fingers pumping in and out of you before he presses deeper into you. You can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, and when he pulls away slightly to let his teeth brush your clit you're done for, legs trembling as you cum. He is persistent and you have to tug his head away, a slight smile stuck on his wet lips as he watches your body shake from the overstimulation. “once more?”

“I can't- I can't do it,” you shake your head but he drags his fingers out slowly before inching them back in, your hips jumping.

“I know you can, you've been doing so good for me already, one more time won't hurt,” he hums, dipping his nose down to brush over your nub. Jolting at the feeling he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, slowly building up speed with his fingers, “can't you do just one more?” it's the way he asks so softly, the heavy gaze under heavier eyelids that makes you nod.

You're so sensitive that one lick has you shaking, your orgasm feeling so far and yet so close all at once. His tongue laps through your folds circling your clit. Hyunjin is obsessed with the taste of you, completely under the spell of your pussy and how it responds to his touch. He could go all night eating you out, watching as you fell apart again and again before him. Your cries are getting louder and before you know it your back is arching into him almost coming off the seat, your orgasm so intense you don't expect the clear fluid to squirt out of you until it has.

You're breathing so labored you place a hand over your chest to try and calm yourself. hyunjins pleased grin is the only thing you see before he pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in his mouth to clean them. Every once in a while your legs jerk from an aftershock, the delight in his eyes worth how tired you feel. Your thighs are sticking to the leather seat under you as Hyunjin pulls your underwear back into place leaning down to leave a ghost of a kiss over your clothed clit. “next time I want you to cry this pretty for my cock okay?”

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #seungmin #kpop smut #bang chan #lee felix #lee know #han jisung #i.n skz #changbin #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin smut #Hyunjin smut #hyunjin skz

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femmeroll · 3 months ago

Note

hiii, could you write something about sevika corrupting a sweet church girl?

your blog is really cute btw <3

omg omg omg !!! i’ve been dying to write something like this, thank you for the request!!

sevika x fem reader

cw: religion, corruption, implied age gap, fingering, semi-public.

you’re a good girl. made good grades in school, good daughter, good sister, kind person. you never miss a sunday service. and if you must, you’ll be at the church for service on monday afternoon. you spend your life being pure, avoiding sin wherever it may rear its devilish head.

no pride or greed or lust. just simple, sweet purity.

that is, until you meet that lady.

every day on your walk home from mass you see her. maybe mid forties, dark hair, and easily six feet tall. she stands outside the deli every morning at 11:45 on the dot for her smoke break.

and every sunday morning she says hello, or good morning, or asks how ‘sunday school’ is going. it’s strange. you always give her a smile, say hello back, but she seems so condescending. like every word she says to you is secretly making fun of you.

you don’t really know her either, which is weird. it’s a small town, everyone knows each other. not…her thought. she’s just an impossibly rude person you see on sundays that causes you to remember the jesus was always kind to strangers.

it’s a cold january morning, sidewalks slick with ice. like clockwork, that woman is standing outside the deli with her cigar.

“careful, virgin mary. don’t want you slippin’ out here.”

okay, rude.

“i’m okay, no need to worry,” you respond, stopping in your tracks in front of her. the gaze she holds on you is almost uncomfortable. she’s staring down at you like she’ll burst out laughing at any moment. like the mere idea of you is just hilarious to her.

“sevika, by the way. my name.”

oh. sevika. okay.

“y/n. it’s nice to properly meet you. i’ve never seen you around outside of…this.”

“i’m not very social” she responds.

you smile. you certainly know the best way for people to find community in town.

“well, there’s a service on mon-”

she cuts you off with a scoff. “not interested. not the place for me.”

“why not?”

sevika leans closer, letting her lips fall near your ears.

“i like smoking, drinking, cursing, fucking. it’s not the place for me, princess.”

you clutch the cross around your neck with a gasp. this is wrong on so many levels. sinful, disgusting, unnatural…and yet you feel your face getting impossibly redder.

sevika stomps out her cigarette. “see you next sunday, princess.”

whether you like it or not, sevika evokes quite a bit of lust in you. her smirk, her piercing grey eyes, her muscles that stretch the fabric of her impossibly tight tshirt…you can’t help it. the forbidden fruit is strong. you suppose it’s all a part of the lord’s plan. send you a taste of homosexual temptation and watch you be a true follower.

you aren’t though.

you entertain her flirting, all her lustful stares, and your church dresses start to come above the knee just to give her something to look at. you don’t know why you like this so much. it’s gross. it’s wrong. it’s against god’s wishes.

but jesus christ, one look from sevika and that all goes out the window. every good christian moral, everything you’ve known to be true disappears the second sevika locks eyes with you.

after a monday evening service, you take your weekly stroll home. it’s dinner time, and sevika is working.

you open the door to the deli, seeing sevika behind the counter. you watch silently as she meticulously rearranges the meats on display.

“i could use some dinner, sevika” you say and she perks up, brief shock replaced with her signature smirk.

“princess. c’mon back, i’ll make you whatever sandwich you want.”

and she does. you’re sitting on a wooden stool in the back of the deli, making small talk. sevika’s presence feels strangely right, like these little moments were made to happen. maybe this was the lord’s plan after all.

sevika steps closer, towering over you.

“you have sauce on your lips. messy eater, huh princess?”

she takes her calloused thumb and wipes the sauce away, eyes never leaving yours. the air feels thicker and your face feels hotter. and without skipping a beat, your lips on on sevika’s.

she stammers a bit in shock, then immediately gaining back control. she wraps her hand around the back of your neck to pull you in deeper. you can feel her smirking against you, prying your lips apart and exploring the inside of your mouth with her tongue.

her lips feel like the missing piece of a puzzle, perfectly slotting against yours in a dance of passion and affection. she’s calculated with the way she kisses, making sure you feel every bit of her tongue gliding against your mouth.

“sevika-” you pant, pulling away. “we shouldn’t, i-it’s not right.”

“shush, princess,” she growls, “gods not watching right now.”

and maybe he’s not. so fuck it. you nod and let sevika pull your blouse off, pushing her head into your chest. she litters your chest in bites, reveling in the sweet moans you let out.

her hands make their way under your skirt, silently asking for permission to pull your slick panties down.

all you can do is nod, desperate and utterly dumb for her touch.

“so soft, princess…” she moans, “so wet. is that all for me?”

another nod.

“you gonna be a good girl?”

another nod.

sevika pulls hand away with an evil grin. “words. or you aren’t getting shit from me.”

“yes, it’s all for you. yes, i’ll be good. please hurry before i remember that i’m a woman of god and stop,” you groan.

her ring finger circles your swollen clit, spreading your folds and rubbing you down to your needy hole. one of her thick fingers is enough to stretch you out, walls tightening around her as she slowly moves in and out of your cunt.

“tight fuckin’ pussy…so pure and innocent, huh? just a good little church girl who likes other women fucking her greedy cunt?”

she chuckles darkly at herself, and at the way you get even tighter at her mean words. so humiliating, so blasphemous, so unholy. and yet every deep, deliberate thrust has you closer and closer to cumming.

“sevika,” you whimper, “i can’t hold it, please.”

“is that right?” she teases.

“you can cum, baby. but make sure to repent after.”

#sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x reader smut #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane smut

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bcacstuff · 1 month ago

Note

Proud Mary on the Peaker Playlist. Sam's so proud of Cait and is showing his love. Not a coincidence, suck it up buttercup.

Dear Buttercup!

My goodness the desperation in the shire can never get anymore evident than when you have to seek for receipts at a playlist that is created by Peakers. 😂 Can't actually can't stop laughing about this, I swear he has not the slightest thing to dowith all of this.

Coincidence? Bwahahha then we must be all married to Caitriona and sending secret receipts into the world. I remember how I always requested 2 of the best popsongs at a party that are at any time successful to get the crowd on the floor and keep you singing along at the top of your longs! Can you guess the ones?

Sure, Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboardlight and Proud Mary, though I prefer the version of Ike and Tina Turner. Nobody else can say these lyrics like Tina could:

You see we never ever do nothing Nice and easy We always do it nice and rough

But whatever makes you happy dear buttercup..... just make sure to not fall off the map of the world dear buttercup. Saying the world is round is most likely a conspiracy as well!

If I may ask a question in return, I wanna know why you're all so cheerful if you don't see her husband, Tony at her side? Not that we're desperate for it, the desperation is more on your side of the fence, looking to see if he's there. While all the same time, we see Sam months from home and not a glimpse of Cait nor any boos in sight? How is that possible? Oh we don't see her but she is there? Is that what you're claiming? Hmm... seems a bit hypocrite to me to not use the same standards for Tony or the boos for that matter! Don't you think so dear buttercup?

Let me even ask you another question. How is it that he's still active on Raya, updating his profile to show where he is?

Oh get it, you wont believe that! Sure.... well let me show you his profile, I received this one end of January, remember where he was? Just take a look at his profile.

As you know it's impossible to take a a screenshot from a Raya profile, so the only way is to take a pic from a phone. And that is exactly what you see here. I know it is 100% real, as I know where and from who it comes. But hey dream on, deny all the reality and the real proof out there. I can't help you dear buttercup. You suck it up and stop making these sad and desperate attempts to proof anything. It does make you look quite dumb and stupid, isn't that what you don't want?

Have a nice day

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 1 month ago

Text

i love you, i’m sorry

── hockey player!rafe x fem!singer!reader

ONE | TWO | THREE

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ALSO! did want to clarify there is nothing romantic between reader and jj. i looove a good friendship where it’s purely a platonic love and they just joke around. and we all know jj would totally pretend to be in love just to piss off rafe hahdnxsjdj. AAAAAND if anyone was curious i am thinking of a specific chapter in this song. it’s “missing you” by lauren weintraub, will link it when i’m home)

january 2 ~

liked by rachelzegler and others…

yn.sings surprise! taking some much needed time off but in preparation for some big exciting things happening this year, wanted to give you a song! as promised there will be an album this year, i haven’t forgotten. this is something we couldn’t quite make fit on the album but i still love it dearly and wanted to share. thank you for supporting me 🎶🎤 as always, let me know what you think! “missing you” available anywhere you can listen to or buy music!

user1 uhh who is this about!!!

user2 already calling it, this will be in the top 5 of my spotify wrapped for this year. i’m obsessed

↳ yn.sings thank you so much!! that genuinely makes me so happy to hear

jjmaybank still so fucking proud of you! can’t wait for the world to hear everything else too 🎧

↳ yn.sings ugh my heart 😭♥️ love you so much j, thank you for always supporting me through everything.

↳ jjmaybank of course, love you always ♥️

↳ heywardpope umm the rule 🤨📸

↳ johnb yeah what he said. don’t be gross.

↳ jjmaybank hey losers she’s a rich kook now the rule no longer applies. give me a smooch yn.sings

↳ yn.sings sudndjsndfjnad hahahdhc i hate it here 😭😂

sarah.cam ohmyfuckinggoddddddd it’s so good! brb gotta go memorize all the lyrics hehe

↳ yn.sings stop im actually in love with you.

↳ sarah.cam are we… are we dating?

↳ yn.sings ☺️💍

↳ johnb 😳

user3 just checked reddit, no theories who this is about yet.

↳ user4 well we don’t even know any of her exes so it’s not like there’s a list to go off of

user5 so like… album before this summer?

↳ yn.sings MAYhaps 😁😘😛

↳ user5 oh my fucjsjrhfisenfj

johnb real talk even though you stole my girl, the song is incredible. proud of you and holy shit you’re so fucking talented. everyone needs to be listen right now!!! ♥️

↳ yn.sings thank you, best hype man. ♥️

itsmekelce dude you killed it again! 🎵🎤🎶

↳ yn.sings and to think years ago i was sending you songs on a cd to help me 😭😭

↳ itsmekelce how much do you think those would be worth on ebay now 🤔🤔🤔

↳ yn.sings hate u hahahdhdbd #blockdtttttt

tmz who is this song about?! yn.sings has kept all previous relationships private, but we’re on the case!

yn.sings, johnb, sarah.cam, itsmekelce, heywardpope, jjmaybank, kiecarrera have all blocked user tmz

this photo has 0 likes

notmyspam let’s ignore the song i just put out. it’s national text your ex day, chat should i do it!! 1 like and i will.

notmyspam has liked this photo

notmyspam say lesssss 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

notarealpope no.

lostmykies also no.

johnbisnotme please don’t!!!

idkausername baby nooooo

ynfanclub do it pussy

↳ notmyspam you got it boss 🫡

↳ johnbisnotme wtf

↳ lostmykies why did you ignore all of us except HIM

↳ ynfanclub im ignoring that HIM again.

↳ notmyspam hshehdsjfjxjf suddenly i can only read his comments 🙈

↳ notmyspam bunch of haters though i wasn’t actually gonna do it 😔

notkelce do it, bet you won’t

↳ notmyspam shfhdkdixjsrbf 👀👀👀👀

↳ alwaysontop hey notrafe did you see what day it is?

TAG LIST ── 10 of 50 spots taken!

if you’d like to be added, just leave a comment :)

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padfootagain · 1 year ago

Text

Home for Christmas

Hi everyone! Here is a cute fic for Christmas! I hope all of you who celebrate have a great time <3

Hope you like this silly little fic! Tell me what you think of it!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none! It’s just cute fluff!!

Summary: Andrew is touring at the moment, and his busy schedule will keep him away for the Christmas season. Or at least, that’s what you thought would happen. That was without counting on how much he missed you.

Word Count: 2390

Hozier's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

24 December.

It’s midday and it’s raining. Against the window panes, the rain falls in a patted rhythm, adding to the soft voice of Ella Fitzgerald, a warmth that lulls you into a gentle sway. Around you, dispersed across the carpet, are a set of gifts, wrapping paper, some tape and glitter. You’re wrapping up presents for Christmas, ready to be delivered on Christmas morning throughout your relatives and friends. It makes for a rather tall pile, as you look at all the work you have left. You’re about half-way through, so you gather your courage in a sigh and get back to work, grabbing a box and some paper and trying your best at turning the whole thing into what vaguely resembles a gift.

On your left, you have set the presents that are already wrapped in red and golden paper. Three of these are for Andrew, and you’re quite proud of what you’ve found for him this year. Your gaze lingers on the items, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips as you think of him… but you end up looking away in a hurry.

He won’t be home for Christmas this year. His touring schedule won’t allow it. If he’s in Europe, he’s currently trying to catch a few hours of sleep in a hotel room in Vienna.

You’ve thought about joining him on tour for a few days, but you wanted to see your family at Christmas. Besides, the look your mother gave you when you mentioned the idea was enough to make you abandon the thought altogether. She looked too sad for you to go ahead with it. You guessed you would simply have to miss your boyfriend this year.

You aren’t angry or bitter about it, though. It comes with dating a musician. There are moments when he isn’t around, and that’s alright. He makes up for it when he comes home, or when you can join him for a few days. Still, as you glance over at his gifts, knowing that they will remain unopened until mid-January, you can’t help the tug at your heart that thought brings.

You grab your phone as an act of revenge, snapping a pic of the three gifts, and sending them to Andrew.

Your gifts are ready! And as I’m an awful girlfriend, you won’t get any clue to guess what they are until you open them in a month!

You add a few emojis to tease him some more, and wait for the phone to buzz while you go back to work. You’ve got glitter on your fingers, it’s all over the beige carpet too. You don’t mind so much, though.

Your Christmas tree is glimmering on the right side of the room, you’ve turned its lights on to get into a festive mood. You have a cocoa on the coffee table, and a bag of marshmallows as a snack. But despite the music, you can’t help but notice how silent the house is.

No humming, no guitar, no voice lost in conversation with you about the most random topic. No padding steps going back and forth across the living room, no curses after hitting the angle of a table, no clutter made in the kitchen to make something as simple as tea. There’s nothing but Ella’s singing, the rain, and the sharp sound of your scissors cutting the wrapping paper, the quick tug at tapes…

Your phone buzzes, and you drop everything to reach for it. A laughing emoji appears under the name Andy, followed by a short text.

How mean! An awful girlfriend indeed.

A pause, some little dots appearing as he writes another message.

I’m worse though.

You shake your head as you type.

Nah! You’re all good. It will only take some extra chocolate to make me forgive you, that’s all. The worst is being abandoned for gift-wrapping. I’m terrible at it.

You’re too focused on the screen to notice any sound coming from outside, like a car-door closing.

I don’t have chocolate. Opted for flowers instead. Hope that works too.

You giggle at that, failing to hear footsteps before your door.

You still have a month to get the right thing.

You jump as you hear keys unlocking the front door. Frowning, you finally stand. Andrew’s parents have a set of keys, just in case, but they’ve never used them. And why would they when you’re here?

You’ve barely reached the hallway that the door opens… on a very tall figure you recognise in an instant. You gasp at the sight, hands flying up to your mouth.

Andrew, on his part, is grinning like an idiot, soaked despite the small distance he had to cross from the cab to the front door. The rain is still heavy, falling on the bouquet of flowers he’s carrying.

He barely has time to step in, throw a travel bag across the hall, and find shelter in your home that you’re jumping into his arms, and he laughs as he catches you with ease. He hasn’t closed the door yet, the air is cold as it sips into the hallway, but you pay no attention to it. You don’t care either about the fact that your clothes are getting wet against his drenched coat, that your fingers run through wet locks as you pull him closer, that his face is cold as you kiss, at long last, for what seems like forever. But then again, you’ve been waiting to see him for weeks, months even… you can’t be blamed for being eager to catch up on lost time.

“Hey,” he breathes as you finally pull away, although he keeps you in his arms.

Rubbing his nose against yours, your eyes are still closed. His voice is a bit deeper than usual in this whispered tone, and it makes shivers travel up your spine, makes your heart melt in a puddle.

“Hi,” you grin against his lips, stealing pecks there. “What are you doing here?!”

“You didn’t think I would really miss Christmas, did you?”

“But your shows…”

“I have nothing until the 26th. I’m not staying here long, just a couple of days. But I’m home for Christmas, at least.”

You hug him as close as you can, still too much in shock to truly believe that he is here, that this is happening, that he truly is home…

“I thought you couldn’t travel back here, that the flights didn’t fit the schedule.”

“I haven’t slept in 27 hours, but aside from that, it all went well,” he laughed, but you frowned at his statement.

“You couldn’t sleep on the plane?”

He blushes a little, averts his eyes for a second, before looking at you again.

“No, no…” he shakes his head, sounding a little embarrassed but smiling all the same. “I just… I was too excited to see you. Couldn’t fall asleep.”

You coo at him, making him wince as he finally puts you down.

“Oh, don’t start…” he warns you, but you love teasing him too much for that.

“You wanted to see me too much! You’re so cute!”

“I did fly all the way across Europe to see you, remember?”

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re hooked, buddy!”

You both laugh at that, but his smile grows tender as he reaches to brush his thumb across your cheek.

“Don’t I know that already…” he states, and again, the warm feeling spreads across your entire form, a perfect balance of happiness, fondness, and love.

He finally hands you the bouquet, and you breathe in the perfect scent: sweet and addictive, making you dizzy for a moment.

“So… no chocolate,” you tease, and Andrew struggles not to laugh, his smile tugging at his lips.

“No, I’m afraid not. The flowers will have to do.”

You hum, as if pondering.

“You’re lucky they’re so pretty,” you add, and he breaks into a cheeky grin.

“Not as pretty as you, though.”

You laugh, walking to the kitchen to give your flowers a vase and some water.

“Lousy line!”

“It was a masterpiece, are you kidding? That timing! Delivery!”

“And he pretends he’s a poet…”

You both laugh, Andrew has followed you after leaving his coat, scarf and shoes by the door. He wraps his arms around your waist, unwilling to be parted from you even for a minute, chasing after your warmth like a moth to a flame.

He drops a kiss to the top of your head.

“I pretend to be a musician, not a poet.”

“Considering your lyrics, you are a poet.”

You feel him grinning into your hair.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and you know he’s blushing without seeing his coloured cheeks.

“Thank you for the flowers, I love them.”

“Next time, I’ll get you chocolate. I promise.”

“I was just joking. You didn’t have to get me anything. I was happy enough to simply have you here.”

You turn in his arms to face him, gently pull on the collar of his green cardigan until his lips meet yours, and that’s the best feeling in the world, really, to be there in his arms, to feel his heart against your palm…

But as you look up at him again, you notice the dark traces under his eyes, the heaviness in his eyelids. He looks exhausted, and if he always does when he’s touring, he seems to be barely being able to stand. For proof, he’s leaning more and more against you as he hugs you tight.

Gently, soothingly, you rub his back, and you don’t fail to notice the sigh he lets out, his body relaxing under your hands.

“We still have a few hours before heading to your parents’ house for the evening. Want to take a nap?”

“Only if you come with me.”

“I have to finish preparing all the gifts…”

“We can do that in the morning. We can even just hand them without any wrapping…”

“No! We’re doing this properly!”

“Tomorrow then.”

You yield easily, nodding.

“Alright. You go and dry your hair while I prepare some hot chocolate, and then we cuddle and take a nap. Deal?”

He grins.

“Deal!”

He kisses you again, passionate and overwhelming and leaving you dizzily blinking; before he disappears upstairs to change out of his wet clothes and get dry.

Meanwhile, you’ve prepared some warm beverage for him and go grab your own mug in the living room. You abandon the gifts for now, climb upstairs and under the covers to wait for Andrew.

You’re grinning at the thought of him joining you, and your smile only brightens when he actually does, clumsily hurrying to the bed.

He slips under the covers, on his side of the bed, the one you’ve been staring at for entire nights, feeling the empty space of his absence. He’s barely settled in that you’re already reaching for him. He takes the hand you’re holding out, kissing your knuckles before placing it against his heart.

He takes a few sips of his warm beverage, complimenting your creation before lying down fully with you, tucking you both in, making sure you’re both fully covered by the heavy blankets. You lie there together for a long time, legs tangled to the point that borders between his body and yours disappear, on your sides so you can stare at each other, bathe in the presence of the person you love most in the world, in the warmth of this home you share, this bed that feels empty when you’re not both here.

A few minutes are all that’s needed for the bed to be filled with the warmth of your entwined bodies, and you relax as you shuffle even closer, arms wrapped around his torso. He holds you close, his large palm rubbing circles into your back that make you close your eyes. He rests his forehead against yours, closes his eyes as well.

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers, his voice quiet and soft in the gentle air of the room, the one disturbed only by your shared breaths, the tapping of the rain, and the occasional movements of your limbs under the covers. “I needed this. Needed to hold you close… you can’t imagine how much I needed this.”

You tighten your hold on him, an attempt to silently tell him that you understand, that you need him too, just as much.

“I’ve missed you too, honey,” you breath, your tone matching his. “So much. I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Only for a couple of days…”

“I don’t care. You’re here, now. That’s all I care about. I might not think the same in a couple of days when I cry my eyes out at the airport but…”

You chuckle together, and he kisses the tip of your nose as a reward.

“Same here,” he mumbles as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply your scent, the one he tries to get drunk on, to commit to memory so he can reminisce later, once he’s alone again at night in some hotel room.

“Thank you. For coming home to me. Thank you, Andy.”

But he chuckles, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“I did it for myself as much a I’ve done this for you, you know.”

“I bet everyone in the band was tired of you complaining all the time,” you laugh, and he does the same.

“Alex was this close from kicking me out of the bus.”

You double with laughter, and yet keep on holding onto each other just as tightly, unwilling to ever let go again.

“I bet he was!”

He nuzzles into your neck, kisses the skin at the base of your shoulder, making your heart skip beats and your breathing stutter. His beard tickles your skin, and you’re certain you’ve been transported to heaven.

“I love you,” you whisper into his hair, kissing every inch you can reach. You feel his grin against your neck.

“I love you, too. So much, darling.”

You forget to set up an alarm, and when you both fall asleep a few minutes later, you’re too comfortable to wake up. You arrive late at Andrew’s parents’, but they can’t pretend to be mad. They’re too happy to have their son for Christmas, and you feel the same.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #the hoziest #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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forestshadow-wolf · 4 months ago

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Happy christmas! @maicandy

This was supposed to be like 1.5k words turned into 3.4k

No warnings. A bit of action, nothing graphic. It should be a fun read (I hope)

Ao3 link

“A’righ’, ya muppet, get up.” Price chuckled, “I signed it fifteen minutes ago, when you handed it to me.”

“Fift- then wha’ th’ fuck am I on th’ floor for!” Soap climbed up on aching knees, Price looked like he was in pain with how ard he was holding in his laugh.

“Wanted to see how far you’d go.” he shrugged.

“Oh, up yer arse wi’ it, ya bloody baw.” Soap scowled, adding, “itsnae funny.” when Price couldn’t contain his boisterous laughter any longer. He slumped into the chair he should have been sitting in, and pointedly did not sulk. It was about as funny as a Scot dating a Brit. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t.

“Oh don’t sulk, Soap, I was never gonna send him to Siberia in December.”

Soap slumped harder in his seat, making it a point to not look at Price. He was mad at him. It was harder to hold his frown when the man was gleefully nudging him with the toe of his boot. Okay it was a little funny. Not that he would ever admit that to the man.

— — —

“How are you gonna jus’ sit there!” soap threw his arms up in exasperation, “he ‘ad me on my knees, an’ you’re laughing!” he was starfished across Ghost’s bed while the man worked on reports at his desk. Laughing at him. Not exactly routinely… okay it was pretty much standard.

“You won’t even tell me what you were there for, why would I help you.” Ghost shoots back at him smoothly. Bastard.

“Wha! You dinnae need to kno’, yoo’re just supposed to defend my honor.” Soap cried in faux-offense.

“ ‘Defend your honor’.” Ghost parrots as he sits back in his chair, he hums thoughtfully as he turns to look at soap, “for all I know you were getting in trouble for taking Price’s cigars last week. I don’t think that’s an honor even I can defend.” Ghost chuckled, catching the pillow Soap threw at his head. Soap was going to say something else when Ghost’s phone rang. taking it out of his pocket, “it’s Price.” he said before answering.

“Yeah, he’s here.” Price’s voice was loud enough to hear, but not loud enough to make out what he was saying, so Soap was only privy to a one-sided conversation. “No, not terribly. You ask me that after you ask if soap’s here?” Ghost bolstered, “mmmh not likely. And you mettle too much.” there was a pause that Price’s muffled voice filled. “Did you call on business, or just to poke at me?” Soap couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or deflection, but if it was Price on the other end it was all in good nature. “But it’s christmas. Soap has-” price, evidently, cut him off, “Fine.”, Ghost hung up with a sigh. “Price needs us geared up and on the tarmac in fifteen.”

— — —

They were kitted up and waiting on the tarmac faster than you could say ‘Two Clicks and a Cracker’, fortunately Price didn’t make them wait too long. He met them with a cigar, and two folders tucked under an arm.

“New mission.” he holds out the folders for them to take, “and before you start, I did my best, but without either of you putting in leave there’s not much I can do. But,” Price sighed. “I pulled some strings. You two are going to Chile for the next three weeks. We had a team pass through a few months ago, they had to crash at a safehouse for a few days. They sent in a report of broken equipment and utilities. It needs to be cleaned, as well as restocked.” Soap flipped open his folder, the list of broken shit was longer than it reasonably should be, in soap’s opinion. “Now, as your directive is not a highest priority you will have a scheduled exfil for January second at fifteen hundred local time. With what remaining time you have between infil and exfil, you will keep an eye on everything to make sure it’s running smoothly. You’ll have quite a bit of time on your hands, so just chill out and don’t break anything, I don’t want to have to go back to fix anything any time soon. Capisce?”

“Yes sir.” Soap flipped his folder closed, they had a long list to do, but nothing they can’t handle. Ghost was still studying the photos in his folder, as thorough as ever. “When do we-”

“Are these bullet holes?” Ghost cut him off, holding up one of the photos.

“Well it’s a military safehouse, what do you expect?” price said, unworried.

“For them to not break the safehouse.” Ghost deadpanned. Which to his credit, yeah that was usually what was expected. “Was there contact, or were they just dicking around?”

“The reports say there was brief contact, but all hostiles were neutralized.”

“Which could mean exactly nothing in this line of work.”

“It’s been months, Ghost, you’re always so suspicious.”

“It pays to be a skeptic sometimes.”

“Just take the free vacation, Ghost.” Price exasperated.

“Since when do I take vacations?”

“Since now.” Soap jumped in, he wasn’t much one for sand, but he wasn’t complaining as long as they weren’t sent for snow. Plus, a little birdie told him Ghost loved the beach. Ghost whipped his head to him, soap watched his eyes look him up and down.

“Soap hates the beach.” Ghost turned to Price. Soap wasn’t sure when or where he got that information, but it was Ghost, so he probably had a way.

“Nae, the beach is fine, Ghost. When do we leave?”

“Now. Nik is loading up your supplies in hanger two.” Price handed Ghost a card, and an envelope. “Money for anything else you might need.” he paused, “do not spend it on porn.” he said with humor in his eyes.

“What if it’s really important though?”

“If it was, I’d have already bought it myself.” Price walked them over to the hanger where Nikoli was waiting, and saw them off.

— — —

The human body isn’t meant to sit in the back of a cargo plane for twelve hours straight, though he’s had worse on cramped commercial flights, so he’s only allowed to complain a little bit.

Nikoli helped them unload, and then he was back in the air headed for home within an hour and a half.

When they finally shuffled all their things to the door and opened it up. The place was a mess. Soap stepped inside and just dropped his bag on the floor while he took it all in. It was like a frat house hurricane swept in, trashed everything, and left. Ghost pushed in beside him and all but froze.

“Well… looks like we got some work to do.”

“Steamin’ jesus, what did they do?” there was trash and takeout boxes everywhere, cans of beer to go along, and soap kicked probably a dozen shell casings just walking further into the living room. He’d seen the pictures, but he didn’t think it’d be this bad.

“C’mon help me get the rest of the stuff inside. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Ghost broke from their stupor, turning out the door.

It took a little longer without the help of a third person, but by the time they were finished they had stripped a few layers in the heat, and the sun was just beginning to set. They’d both stripped their kits, Ghost the mask and hoodie as well, Soap himself had stripped his own shirt off as well.

“Go get a shirt.” Ghost instructed, pulling out a face mask from his bag, and slipping the card into his pocket. “We gotta head to the store for dinner.” Soap tugged his shirt on as Ghost spoke.

— — —

The following two weeks were spent sweeping and cleaning, and fixing whatever they could find that was broken. Which included but was jot at all limited to, a broken water heater, A drippy shower, a leaky sink, a toilet that didn't flush all the way, and the team that was here last had left a broken down humvee around that back which Soap had taken to taking apart to fix.

But aside from that Soap didn't think they'd get all the shell casings given a whole season. And in the most random of places too. Obviously the living room, but also under the bottom cabinets In the kitchen along the crown moulding, behind the doors of just about every room, there were a few behind the toilet and in the bathtub, he even found one in the bed that first night.

Price and Laswell kept in communication, calling them every few days just to make sure everything was running smoothly, and to ask if they were in need of any extra parts that hadn’t been sent. As predicted everything was running smooth as butter, they updated them on what they were able to fix, and what was taking a bit more time. Soap had gotten the humvee running before the end of the first week, and road worthy by the second, albeit missing a few parts. The windshield was cracked to shit, and the metal top had been taken off in place of a canvas one, but it was solid. It was smooth until Laswell called one morning without Price.

“Soap. Ghost.” Laswell’s voice came through the phone’s speaker.

“Laswell. Is Price there? This isn’t a scheduled meeting.” Soap answered.

“On his way. Where’s Ghost?”

“In the shower. I assume something’s come up.”

“Local law enforcement tells me you have hostels inbound, but they won’t come near it with a ten foot pole. I’ve sent Price and Gaz your way, but they won’t get to you in time.” Laswell informed. That wasn’t exactly the news he wanted to hear.

“Do we know how many?”

“Last time anyone was at your location, it was a team of five. I’d hazard a guess at two dozen.” seems a bit overkill to him, but who’s he to say.

“How long do we have?”

“Six, maybe eight hours.” okay not as bad as it could be.

“Aye, I’ll let Ghost know. And Laswell?”

“Yeah, Soap?”

“We’re gonna break a lot of shit. And I don’t want to fix it.”

“I’ll get it taken care of.”

“Thanks, Laswell.”

“Merry Christmas. I’ll see you back at base, Sergeant.” she cuts the line. And it was only after a moment of heavy contemplation that Soap realized it was christmas day. And he hadn’t even gotten Ghost anything.

Soap could still hear the shower running, it would likely be another while before Ghost finished. He was tempted to join him, but he knew himself well enough to know that he shouldn’t get distracted.

— — —

It must have been a half hour later when Ghost came and sat on the sand with him, wrapping himself around soap, legs bracketing around him. They’d spent quite a good amount of time on this beach. It was a private spot, the water washed up a dozen feet from the house at high tide, and the treeline began right where the steps met the sand. And he found, he didn’t mind finding sand in all the unholy places quite so much when Ghost was involved.

“Laswell said we have incoming.” soap muttered softly as Ghost kissed up his shoulder to the nape of his neck, he could feel still-damp hair brush over his neck and cheek, but he leaned into it instead of pulling away; like he probably should have.

“But we have time?” Ghost pressed his face into the back of his neck, hugging soap closer to him.

“Beaches aren’t so bad.” he hums. It’s answer enough.

“When’d you decide that?” Ghost mumbled into his skin.

“Just now.”

“Hmm I like the beach too.” Ghost said after a moment of contemplation. And Soap wanted to stay there for eternity, but they had five hours to prepare and they needed to go to the store. Ghost’s arms wrapped tighter around his middle. Maybe they could say for a few more minutes.

— — —

“You’re flooding the sink?” a quick trip to the store, which consisted mostly of string and snacks, had them back at the house within an hour. This was the last thing in order after setting up the rest of his Home Alone traps. They had probably just under an hour, and now Ghost was questioning his decisions while he was checking and loading their firearms and eating Soap’s gummy peach rings. That he teased Soap about getting.

“Obviously. Nobody wants to see a flooded sink. Whether it’s yours or not.” Soap rolled his eyes, shoving more cloth and sand down the drain. He very specifically kept his eyes away from the cabinet above the microwave, there was no reason for him to look there. truely. “Those are my peach rings, by the way.” he didn’t really care, they were mostly for Ghost anyway.

“Mmh, obviously.” Ghost said around a gummy as though it wasn’t obvious. “What’s that mean for the dumber of us?”

“A flooded sink is never good. Mean’s it’s connected to something, or something’s gone wrong. Plus water on the floor means they can’t sneak, and they leave tracks. If anything it draws their attention for a second, and that’s a second more for us”

“Smart.”

— — —

“Soap two vans just pulled up.” Ghost’s voice came through their comm line, the flora around the house wasn’t incredibly dense, but it was enough that it made Ghost difficult to spot if you didn’t know to look for the crook of branches twelve feet up. Soap only knew because he helped him up there.

“Think they’ll check the bathroom or the bedroom first?” He was precariously crouched barefoot behind the kitchen wall, just barely out of sight if they peeked in at the sink, water from the sink licked at his toes. Armed only with a knife, a pistol, and an extra magazine. If he played his moves right, they wouldn’t see him until it was, hopefully, too late.

“I reckon they’ll split up, ‘s what I’d do.” soap could hear boots stomping up the two stairs to the front door.

The door slammed open just before Soap could respond. Almost immediately the rope tied to the door handle pulled taut, and the shotgun sprayed buckshot as the trigger compressed. He heard a body hit the ground, followed by shouting and sounds of panic. He heard more soldiers storm up the wooden stairs, whoever stepped through the threshold first pulled the tripwire. It pulled the pin on the grenade.

“Beautiful, Johnny, I count eighteen, down to fifteen. I’m heading to the back, arm the backdoor when you're out, keep it loud.”

The remaining soldiers continued with more caution. There was a pause, then uneasy shuffling. More footsteps entered into the house. Soap could feel the tension as they split up. The water around his feet rippled as one of the soldiers stepped into the water by the sink. There was a nook in the kitchen that created a blindspot from outside of the kitchen, he stepped into view, and sunk his knife into the throat, and gently lowered him to the ground before he even had a chance to react. Four down, fourteen to go.

Almost simultaneously the shotgun in the bathroom went off, and shouting and gunshots came from the bedroom, letting him know they tripped the flare in the closet he’d used as a distraction. That was Soap’s cue. He whipped out of the kitchen, snatching up the shotgun that took out that first soldier. With one more shot in it, he aimed at the second soldier in the bathroom, and shot. He went down like a ton of bricks. Six down, twelve to go. This is where it gets hot. He unholstered his pistol without waiting to watch. Four shots. Two bodies. He ducked behind the couch. They all aimed at him, he was outnumbered, but they didn’t know the space, and he was two steps from the back door.

“Ghost, I need out.”

“Copy.” Half a second later the glass at his back splintered, and one of the soldiers fell over dead. And the rest scattered for cover like cockroaches from a light. Nine down, nine to go.

Soap didn’t wait, he flew out the door, arming it as it closed behind him. Ghost met him as soon as his foot touched sand. And there wasn’t a second to spare when the door flew open behind them. They split and ran down the beach, careful where they stepped.

“Soap,” Ghost called, waiting for a response.

“Ghost.”

“wanna see something sexy.” and of-fucking-course he did.

“You know I do.” And not a moment later did he hear a boom accompanied by the sand under his feet rattling, and he could see sand and bodies flying. Soap let out an overexaggerated moan. Too which he got a chuckle from Ghost that he could hear the eye roll through. He will be salty that Ghost got to set off the first sandy explosive later. Eleven down, seven to go.

Soap could hear the two soldiers behind him, he wide-stepped over a small rock in the sand, and detonated the explosive buried right below in two paces. The shock sent him off balance, but he caught himself before he fell. Thirteen down, five to go. And he was out of tricks. He had three more after him, and lead flying by his head.

Pinwheeling around a bloody large boulder he deaded back the way Ghost was headed, he could see Ghost had been able to do just the same. Trust. Ghost had two on him. He didn’t stop running as he shot.

The first one went wide. The one after had a body falling, and the one after that had the other soldier stumbling. He couldn’t tell which bullets flying by his head were Ghost’s and which were enemies’, but somehow, some miracle, none of them hit him.

— — —

He frowned as he opened the cabinet above the microwave, it had been bullet ridden, but somehow he’d still hoped the little skeleton ghost plush he’s bought would have remained untouched. It wasn’t so. Stuffing fell out before he even opened the cabinet all the way, and what greeted him when he did was a very sad, very stuffingless once-was plush. He pulled it out with a frown anyway.

He turned to toss it in the trash, and promptly had a heart attack when he turned around and Ghost was right there. He clutched the sad bit of fabric to his chest, and panted dramatically.

“Christ, Ghost, scared me half to death.”

“I’d hope not.” Ghost smiled. “What’s that?” soap held out his was-gift.

“Oh. uh merry christmas?” he felt his face pull in disappointment, “I was hoping that it would somehow stay safe, but…”

“Lemme see.” Ghost held out his hand for the thing. “Eh he’s not so bad. Just needs a bit of stitching and stuffing, and he’ll be right as rain.” he smiled at him. Then, impossibly, his face brightened further, “wait right here.” and then Ghost was out of the kitchen.

Soap stayed put like instructed. Christ they’d made a right proper mess of this safe house. Water everywhere, shell casings, damage to everything. Price was going to throw a fit when he saw it.

“Okay close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Ghost said before he walked in. soap did as told. Something was placed in his hands, “okay open.”

It was a leather bound Journal, with his initials engraved into the front. He flipped open the cover to see that ‘SR’ had been scratched into the inner surface, along with a polaroid of Ghost, and a sleeping him in bed.

“I noticed you were getting to the end of yours.”

There were so many things Soap wanted to say. That he loved it, he loved him, that it was the best thing he’s ever been gifted, that it was a privilege to get this, that he was honored that Ghost would put their names together, that Ghost would let him see his face. He settled for kissing him instead.

— — —

There wasn’t much for Price and Gaz to do when they landed, except help pack. And Soap and Ghost left for base with them. There wasn’t much they could salvage without another team and more tools and parts. And what could be done, wasn’t worth the effort after they just fixed it. So home they went.

#thank you saire for setting this up #el rambles #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #also I'm choosing to make this double as my daily post because I don't have the energy to write one rn #to be honest I barely had the time to write this between work and moving rooms and driving my sister around for shopping and what not #so I sincerely apologize if this feels rushed at all

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 months ago

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(It Is) What It Is

Sneak Peek

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

A/N : Here's the first little sneak peek at my next Billy fic. I'm going with something slightly different for the reader character this time, so I hope you like what I've got planned. The first chapter will be posted on the 31st of January, and I'll be updating weekly. If you've already asked to be tagged, I'll tag you in the first chapter!

Sneak Peek

“Good morning, Mr Russo,” you said, heading towards his desk. “I’ve got your morning coffee and a couple of bear claws, and Mr Castle is waiting outside for your morning meeting.”

“Thank you,” he said, lingering at the window a moment longer before finally turning towards you. “Can you send Frank in and grab the files I asked you to prepare yesterday?”

“Of course, sir.”

You did as you were asked, sending Mr Castle in while you got the files from your desk. By the time you made it back into Mr Russo’s office, both men were perched on his desk, drinking their coffees and eating bear claws.

“However much he’s payin’ you, it’s not enough,” Mr Castle grinned at you, and that had the forced smile on your lips becoming something far more genuine.

It wasn’t so much that Mr Russo didn’t appreciate what you did for him - you knew that he did - it was more that he wasn’t particularly vocal about it. But you’d heard the horror stories of the PAs who’d come before you, the ones who’d quit mere weeks into working for him. At first you’d feared that it was him, that he was impossible to work for, but you’d quickly figured out that he wasn’t impossible, just... difficult.

There was a lot of reading between the lines when it came to Billy Russo, and a lot of your time was spent trying to anticipate what he might want or need at any given time; when he was in a bad mood you’d found that food often helped, and frustration was usually mitigated by redirecting him towards smaller, easier to deal with tasks to distract him.

It wasn’t easy but you’d figured him out and, now, things ran pretty smoothly.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the files on his desk beside him. “I took the liberty of colour coding them; the green tabs are the ones most likely to want to engage Anvil’s services based on the research, orange means they could be convinced, and -”

“And what about red?” Mr Russo asked, pulling a file from the bottom of the stack.

The only file with a red tab.

“Red means it’s extremely unlikely that they would choose to offer Anvil a contract and that they’re probably not worth the money and resources that it might take to change their mind,” you explained, trying to sound as clinical as possible.

“And why do you think the Van Der Koy family wouldn’t be interested in contracting with Anvil?” He asked.

Immediately your cheeks started to heat as you tried to find the easiest (read: safest) way to explain it.

The Van Der Koy’s were old money, with dozens of high end resorts, hotels and casinos across North America. They were a literal goldmine for anyone who got to work with them. Landing a security contract with them would be worth millions of dollars, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that that was the file that Mr Russo wanted to concentrate on.

But how were you supposed to tell him that he was the reason the Van Der Koy’s would never work with Anvil?

“Well, the Van Der Koy’s have very old fashioned family values - it’s not about the money, it’s all about appearances and reputation...” you said.

“And what’s wrong with Anvil’s reputation?” Mr Russo prompted.

“It’s not Anvil...” you tried to explain, your voice turning quiet.

“Then what?” He asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

“Jesus, Bill,” Frank said through a mouthful of pastry. “She’s tryin’ to be polite.”

There was a silence for a few moments before Mr Russo finally seemed to realise what was being said.

“You’re saying that they won’t contract with Anvil because of my reputation?” He asked, and you gave the smallest of nods. “What’s wrong with my reputation?”

“Sir, I really don’t think -”

“You can’t expect her to answer that,” Frank said, speaking at the same time as you.

He looked from you to Mr Castle and back again, as if he really had no clue what you could possibly mean.

“I won’t get angry or blame you,” Mr Russo said. “I just want to know what you know.”

You didn’t want to answer, but you knew that you had to.

“Well, from what I was able to learn, it’s... it’s everything,” you said, unable to even look him in the eye as you explained. “The parties, the women - it sends a certain, uh... message...”

It felt like his gaze was burning into you as you fixed your eyes on his desk and the stack of files.

“What message?” He asked.

“She’s sayin’ the uptight, old money folks don’t like that you’re a fuck-boy who spends all his time with bimbos, Bill,” Mr Castle answered for you. “Now, could you stop makin’ her feel uncomfortable about it and let her do her damned job?”

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lulublack90 · 3 months ago

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Prompt 23 - First Birthday

@wolfstarmicrofic January 23, word count 829

Remus’s birthday was fast approaching. It would be the first of his small group of friends that he’d be celebrating, as he’d been in the shrieking shack on Sirius’s birthday and missed the celebrations. But for his birthday the moon would barely be a sliver in the sky, so he could celebrate all he wanted.

James had promised him a cake. He’d asked his mum to bake and send one just for Remus, in his favourite flavour, chocolate, of course. Remus couldn’t wait.

The day arrived, and while he still had to go to class, he didn’t mind so much as he had Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, all of which he was quite good at, and no potions. So far, it was a pretty good birthday.

“Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, our dear Remus. Happy birthday to you,” Sirius, James and Peter chorused around him after they’d dragged him up to their dorm room and sat him on a cushion on the floor. James had a massive chocolate cake in his hands that he shoved in Remus’s face so he could blow out the candles. Sirius cut them big slices, and they balanced the plates on their laps while they dug in messily with their fingers.

Once they were finished and had cleaned up, Sirius plonked himself down in Remus’s lap. It had taken Remus a while to get used to how touchy-feely Sirius was. James had told him he thought it was because Sirius was a bit touch-starved and was overcompensating, now that he’d figured out he could hug people. He basically draped himself over James any chance he got, sometimes in class. So Remus had made the effort not to tense up every time Sirius touched him, mainly for Sirius’s sake, but also because he secretly craved the light touches. For too long, the only person who’d hugged him or touched him was his mum.

“I’ve got you a present,” Sirius beamed at him as he summoned a box from under his bed. Remus took it off him and awkwardly balanced it on Sirius’s lap, lifting the lid to reveal a whole collection of wizarding sweets.

“Wow, Sirius, thank you,” He grinned, his hands already opening a chocolate frog box.

“Glad you liked it,” Sirius told him, wiggling in his lap so he could rest his head on Remus’s shoulder. Remus found it oddly comforting having Sirius’s weight on him. But all that went away when James shoved Sirius aside and dumped a box of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks into his lap.

“Wow, these are amazing, thank you, James,” Remus said, brushing his fingers over the image on the box. They’d find a good use for these over the next few weeks, he bet. Peter shuffled forward and held out a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper.

“Mum made this for you,” He mumbled, and Remus tore off the paper. It was a brown jumper with an intricate cable pattern on the front and around the cuffs.

“Wow, Pete, this is, this is, wow, I love it,” He told Peter, pulling his robes off so he could put the jumper on.

He hugged himself, appreciating the soft wool and the warmth it brought him.

“Do you really?” Peter asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I really do. Tell your mum thank you, will ya?” Peter nodded profusely. Sirius dumped the fireworks on the floor and took his place back on Remus’s lap.

“Godrics beard, that jumper is soft,” He nuzzled into Remus, knocking him over as he tried to feel all the jumper at once.

“Get off you nutter.” Remus laughed as Sirius started tickling him.

“Hey, Pete, why didn’t I get one of these for my birthday?” Sirius asked in mock outrage. Peter turned bright red.

“Er, erm, er…” He spluttered. “I can ask Mum if she’ll make you one too?”

“Aww, would you? Such a treasure. For now, I’ll just steal Remus’s,” He declared as he tried to get inside it with Remus still wearing it.

“Will you get off? James!” Remus called out for help and James dragged Sirius out, threw him on his bed and rolled him up in his duvet. Problem solved. Remus dug around his box of sweets and pulled out some peppermint imps and chewed on them while James told the story of the time his dad tried to sew his mum's favourite dress back together after they’d accidentally ripped it, and he’d sewn it to his robes and had to wait for his mum to get back to help so they didn’t ruin the dress further.

Remus went to sit next to the slightly disgruntled-looking Sirius and fed him Fizzing Whizzbees to cheer him up.

When he got into bed that night, it was with a smile on his face. He’d loved every second of his birthday and couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have friends like he did.

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smellystars · 1 year ago

Text

School Blowout

Mr. Cruz is your average calc teacher at wellbring high school. Though what most don’t know is his constant gas problem. Mr.Cruz has had this problem his entire life constantly farting without end, no matter the situation and with age it has only seemed to get worse. What used to be a quick puff of air with a bit of a smell has become minutes long with a smell that packs quite a punch.

When quarantine came around Mr.Cruz was elated, he didn’t have to worry about taking breaks to rip or worry about anyone else smelling his gas and can rip as he pleases. It did become hard explaining why at random his mic would mute for a few minutes during meetings and online classes. To pass the time when not in classes, Cruz started to work out and order a few tubs of protein. Taking protein, working out and eating anything to bulk helped Cruz to get a body that anyone would call hot and a very plump and round ass that could turn heads. The unintended side effects, gas worse than anyone could imagine. A singular fart now has the force to rumble furniture, and a smell bad enough to cause unconsciousness from a single sniff. At worst a rumbling akin to an earthquake, a smell so bad that plants would wilt and die. Thus began the worst event to happen at wellbring high.

It was Thursday January 25, 2024 everyone was running to class not wanting to be late. The class was loud with chatter and laughter as the students talk amongst themselves. Suddenly a loud boom came from the hallway and the class goes silent. The students wonder what could have created that sound. After two minutes, Mr.Cruz walks into his class holding his stomach and says good morning to his students. A girl in the back of the class asks Mr.Cruz if he knows what that sound was. He responds, “ Yeah, sorry I couldn’t hold it i.” All the students laugh at the respond and tells Cruz that it isn’t possible for a singular fart to be that loud. “I take a lot of protein and you see what I’m working with back there, unless I actually try all my gas is going to be loud” he says then sits down as he groans in pain. The students then look at Mr.Cruz worried “Are you okay?” some of the students ask. Mr.Cruz doesn’t respond and all of a sudden a stream of gas leaves his behind, much louder than the one in the hallway. The students cover their ears in fear that their eardrums would burst. “Uhhhhh something I ate isn’t agreeing with me” Cruz says as he leans against the board, his ass facing his students. A loud gurgle is heard then

BRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMBBTT!!!!

A loud explosion from Cruz’s ass send desks and books flying as the students quickly evacuate the class. A rumble that can be felt all over the school as the principal turns on the intercom, “Everyone evacuate the school this is not a drill evacuate the school.” The principal thinking maybe a pipe somewhere burst leading to a gas leak. Mr.Cruz after hearing that tries to hold his gas long enough that everyone leaves the school knowing how bad the next gas attack is going to be. His stomach gurgling louder and louder as only two minutes pass. “I can’t hold it anymore, I have to let it out” with that Cruz let’s go

BBBBBRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNMMMMNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!

A deep bassy and deadly fart leaves his ass making his cheeks jiggle as a rumbling that would scale a 9 on the richter scale bursts forth. Walls crack as he continues to rip, his gas spreading throughout the school creating a brownish haze. The cracked walls fully break turning to rubble as Cruz’s destructive fart continues without end. Window shatter as the only barrier between everyone outside the school is gone. The gas spewing outside the school like a rocket, plants wilting, birds and animals fainting from the smell. Students and faculty start to cough and gag on the smell, some trying to take shelter in cars and busses but nothing could protect them from Cruz’s gas cloud.

Another gurgle can be heard from Cruz’s gut, “uhh one more just push it all out at once then I’m done,” he says panting covered in sweat. He lays on his stomach arching his back and aiming his ass upwards, balling his fist and is pushing as much gas down as he can. He grunts

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!!

The school is reduced to rubble, the roof was blown away in an instant, walls and floors reduced to rubble, the lockers and anything metal melted and rusted due to the heat. The gas cloud visible from the next town over, anyone close to the school on the floor unconscious due to the smell and heat. Cruz’s pants and boxers reduced to tears of fabric and his bare butt hanging out. “Uhh maybe I should cut down on the protein” as he wafts the air behind his ass.

#hyperfarts #MrCruz #malehyperfarts #male farts #fart story

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ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago

Note

I have another question for who would Wednesday (sorry if I'm sending too much): who would have new years resolutions? Who would help with yours?

Took me until Lunar New Year, but we got there!

No warnings except mentions of true-to-character background (family alcoholism, jerk behavior, cursing) so keep that in mind.

James Mace

Yes! If it's important to you, it's important to him. Mace only picks practical goals or changes to make, realistic stuff that's doable and improves his life and happiness. You know, the actual epitome of the tradition.

Curtis Everett

No. He'll honor your resolutions but doesn't make his own. It's half not caring and half because when he used to make them, he always crapped out on them by March...

Jimmy Dobyne

No. Jimmy believes if you have a goal, why wait for a holiday to start? Go ahead and do it! He hates the placating of over-indulging during the holidays, guilting yourself, and then miserably push to change huge things suddenly. (He's adamant about NO DRY JANUARY, too. Own up to it. If you want/need to quit drinking, then fucking stop. He gets prickly about this because of his father.)

Johnny Storm

Nope. Johnny just...keeps being Johnny. Isn't very open to helping you keep them. Seems...sorta personal and like a you-problem.

Jake Jensen

Yes!!!! He's totally supportive and enjoys making a big deal about declaring his and yours after a sweet, midnight kiss. Will buy a whiteboard for the hallway to have them visible. Jake does, however, always picks silly or easy stuff for himself in order to feel accomplished. He will NOT stand for you making resolutions which are designed to be judgmental: don't write down "get skinny" or "save for a nose job." Jake makes you think specifically about you, none of this for-others shit.

Lloyd Hansen

Yes? His resolutions are silly and self-serving--also they are almost always indulgences that Lloyd never stopped himself for doing in the first place--so it's a useless exercise. He is supportive of yours as long as it's convenient for him to do so, which he takes on a second-to-second basis.

Ari Levinson

Yes, but only as a couple or being supportive of yours. On his own, Ari doesn't see the point.

Ransom Drysdale

Yes, but he doesn't admit it or tell anyone what they are, so no one knows if he failed to keep them. Ran won't necessarily provide positive support of yours--i.e. if you cheat on a diet or something, he openly points out you shouldn't be eating that--but! he holds you accountable if/when you've clearly said you're trying to change a habit.

Andy Barber

Yes. The only problem is they're vague and recurring. Every year he tries to say you'll have a regular date night or go on trips, but Andy never quite manages to put fun things first. He's a workaholic who gets distracted and forgets to focus on less tangible progress. You have to remind him or take over making those resolutions happen.

Steve Rogers

Yes and no. Some years Steve has strong impulses to make changes. Some years he's just getting by or keeping the status quo. Turns out, you often make resolutions that impact the both of you or are specifically geared toward him. If you're vocal about wanting something, he's all over it and supportive. Steve has never been great at doing things for himself.

Bucky Barnes

Again, yes and no. Bucky is still not great at tracking time. He gets confused from year to year if there were just arbitrary goals he set, so now he keeps them progressive. You guys want to do renovations on your home? Pick a starting room and then pick a direction to work (out, up, or down). He wants to turn his wardrobe into something more personal? Begin with the shoes, then the socks, then the slacks, etc. Mundane choices can overwhelm him easily since he's from a simpler era and he didn't make his own choices for a long stretch. Bucky keeps his resolutions simple and the pressure to stick to them low.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Now back to my hidey hole...

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hikaruchen · 5 months ago

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Reading this blog and procrastinating what I should’ve been doing at the moment, but it’s super helpful if you want to know more about the Anglo-Saxon and Viking material culture but don’t want to be bored to hell. All articles are done by an archaeologist specializing in mortuary archaeology, and he has already written several ones about burials and pagan practices during that time through the lens of The Last Kingdom. I’ve linked one of his posts before on ao3 when discussing about the historical accuracy of Alfred’s tomb effigy in the show under the pic Prayer from the Pagan, but didn’t really had the time to check others out. I just did it and find his other articles are actually super interesting to read as well.

For instance, back when I post this pic in January I said the colour palette was inspired by the Alfred jewel, but I completely forgot that it actually appeared in the show (2x04) where Alfred handed it to Æthelwold and said “Take this. It is a symbol of my kingship. Bear it with authority.”, which might be partially true but is hilarious if you give it another thought.

Because, why, in God’s name, would Alfred hand an ARTEFACT version of the piece he commissioned himself to his nephew? As Prof. Williams already stated (in this post), the Alfred jewel has long been assumed to be the handle part of a pointer stick for following words when reading a book, and if you look at the artefact itself it is quite clear that there’s a part that’s been missing as well. The reason why scholars think it has something to do with Alfred is because:

1) It’s written. The text on the frame literally says that “ÆLFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN”, which means “Alfred ordered me made”. The more detailed explanation below (with the help of beloved wikitionary since I don’t understand Old English at all)

ÆLFRED (subject) Alfred, obviously MEC (object) me; accusative of iċ (I), but in the West Saxon dialect it’s actually an uncommon version of iċ’s accusative and is more often seen in the Anglian dialect. The frequently-used version for West Saxons is mē HEHT (verb) ordered; third-singular past tense for hātan (to call; to order etc.), often followed with infinitive verbs, cognate with heißen in German GEWYRCAN (verb) to make; I honestly don’t know if “to make” and “to be made” is just the same word in OE help And since the word order in OE is random as hell thanks to the case system (much like German which I eventually gave up learning because I don’t have a brain big enough for that. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO A NATIVE MANDARIN SPEAKER THANK YOU), it is eventually translated into “Alfred ordered me to be made”.

2) It was discovered in Somerset and has been dated to the late 9th century, and we all know what Somerset meant to Alfred

3) Alfred did say he would send a copy of his translation of Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care to every episcopal see in his kingdom in the preface to it, with the book accompanied “an æstel of 50 mancuses”. Mancus was a term to denote a gold coin or a unit for coins worth about a month’s wage for a skilled worker, such as a craftsman or a soldier. Whatever that æstel is it must be worth hell LOTS of money

But honestly while I do think this interpretation sounds very much plausible I’m thinking about other possibilities as well - how many Alfreds exactly existed during his time? We know that Æthel in OE means noble, so people bearing this prefix in their names were usually royal members or at least aristocrats, but what about Alfred? Was Alfred a popular name? Or was it unique enough that he could just go by this name without mentioning his title at all? Imagine if it were an Æthelred who made this, who the hell would know which one of these it was referring to, Æthelred the King, Æthelred the Ealdorman, Æthelred Ealhswith’s father, or even Æthelred the fucking Archbishop??? And yeah, I know Alfred was the king ™ here and there isn’t really much space left on the frame after all, but surely it wouldn’t cost a bone to add a cyning behind his name, right?

Sadly, as it was in the pre-Domesday-Book era, I can’t find the statistics of Anglo-Saxon names at that time (but keep in mind that there were at least 19 Alfreds worthy enough to be mentioned in Domesday Book even after the conquest. I don’t know if this says anything at all but I do want to mention it) What I’m trying to say is while it is highly highly highly likely (and I do believe and want to believe in this theory!), we cannot be one hundred percent certain that this jewel was really from the Alfred we’re talking about. And even if it was, it apparently wouldn’t be carried around by Alfred like THAT. Because that would be like, “Bear this with authority! Even though the symbol of my kingship is broken!”, said Alfred to a king wannabe. Lol.

The other thing I want to mention is this post about the show’s use of Fuller brooch, the one Alfred wore in S2 when he was in his war gear.

First of all, it is indeed dated to late 9th century and is assumed by scholars to be made by metalworkers of Alfred’s court. Everything is fine except I don’t think you would want to wear jewelry that luxurious to war…but then there’s this thing:

MEET GIANT FULLERS!

Well, can’t blame them since I am basically doing the same thing with my drawings (i.e. using patterns on jewelry and illustrations from manuscripts for embroidery design). But it’s worth noting that designs that are suitable for one art form doesn’t mean they can be applied to another well, and that’s why I claim my art is inspired by Anglo-Saxon art but NOT historical accurate for the Anglo-Saxon period. The reason I still do this and think it is understandable for TLK crew to do so is because we simply don’t have that many resources to reference from when it comes to this time period, and fabrics and wooden buildings are just extremely hard to preserve by nature. Instead of screwing up the design on your own, it just has more fun to add real historical elements into your work. Look at those easter eggs!

Ok, that’s it. I hope you enjoy my long rant and have a good read from Prof. Williams’s works!

#I’m so sorry for everybody who did read the whole thing omg #I hope you’re that kind of person who thinks it is sometimes fun to waste your time #I certainly didn’t anticipate this to be this embarrassingly long HELP #nerd is nerding #that will happen again lmao #the last kingdom #alfred the great #archaeology #british history #king alfred #anglo saxon #hikaru.txt #tlk alfred #anglo saxon archaeology #archeology #oh and all in all i really hope dd did get to bring these replicas home tho bc THAT WOULD BE SO FUCKING COOL

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madridnoora · 1 month ago

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౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - A Quick Glance - part two

Third instalment of Forbidden au.

part one here ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

Summary: A restless Joe can't help but take a quick glance at Daisy's instagram

everything’s better in texas - Austin, Texas Liked by jjettas2 and 385 others.

@.cassdaviess: not true.

@.carsonford: represent!

-> @.daisyymoore: always n forever tx.

May 27th 2019

Joe looks at the comment. The one that stands out like a saw thumb. who the fuck was carson ford? He clicks on the profile but it's private. The profile image is blurry and hard to make out. Maybe he was just a friend from back home. Joe didn't care, it was the curiosity which was killing him.

He dives deeper into Daisy's profile.

lol.

219 likes

@.cassdaviess: boys suck.

→ @.daisyymoore: so much.

April 27th 2019

One picture, and she looked rough. Somehow still good, but like she had been crying for hours and hours on end. From the photo, the caption and Cassie's comment, it doesn't take Joe long to realise that this was the break up. Justin had mentioned it briefly when he further explained how he had got to know Cassie and Daisy after they met for the first time. That eliminated Carson from Joe's list of suspects, if he was commenting after this post there was no way he was her ex.

Once more he scrolled.

A new year full of some things new and some things old. - Baton Rouge, Louisiana 412 likes

@.cassdaviess: am i new or old?

-> @.daisyymoore: lightly used

@.mileslucasford: new year, same old us!

-> @.daisyymoore: always us <3

@.carsonford: happy new year!

-> @.daisyymoore: happy new year sonny!

@.kayleighrivers: we miss you in tx dukes.

load more comments

January 1st 2019

Joe stops in his tracks when he reaches the last photo of her new year dump. There is a guy. There in a cramped photo booth together. His eyes dart to the comments as tries to piece together the information in front of him. Miles Lucas Ford. That's her ex. He assumes the other ford is his brother or his cousin or some relation. He clicks on Miles' @, again private account and the profile picture is of him in a ski mask, a vape cloud puffing from his mouth. classic frat boy. He slides to the last picture once again. The guy was nothing special. Tall with dark hair. Daisy really got heartbroken by this guy huh.

The name Miles sticks with Joe as he scrolls to the last post on her page. He doesn't know why it sticks but it does, like he's heard it somewhere before. A strange familiarity that he can't quite shake.

hook em’

778 likes

@.mileslucasford: atta girl.

November 9th 2018

Joe sits up in his bed.

'hook em?' he says audibly with a horrified disgust.

Miss 'I hate football' at a Texas longhorns game, in a Texas longhorns jersey. The same girl who forced him to turn off the game the other night because she couldn't stand to watch it. That's the girl in the picture.

He couldn't understand it. and her ex commenting.

There was this weird feeling in his gut. This all meant something but he didn't know what. It was like he had found some random pieces to a puzzle but couldn't make out what it was. He couldn't make them fit together.

Joe's 'quick glance' at Daisy's instagram had left him with more questions than answers. and he was now more awake than he had been before.

He clicked follow. If they were going to be acquaintances with benefits the least he could do was follow her, and that way he would just DM her when he needed to.

Speaking of DM's, Joe's phone buzzed with a notification.

@.aliciaharrolds: you want me to come round ;)

A blonde sorority girl he lad slept with once before. One he had been messaging before he looked through Daisy's instagram.

fuck it. Joe needed to tire himself out if he had any chance of getting to sleep tonight and Alicia was the perfect late night workout.

a/n - heyyy! working on the next big instalment for this au and hoping to get it out by the end of the week! in the meantime feel free to send me any asks about joe and daisy or this au in general ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

#joe burrow #joe burrow au #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x oc #joey burrow #lsu!joe #lsu joe #౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ forbidden joe burrow au #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader

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mamaestapa · 2 years ago

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Sweet as Sugar|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe are at a friends wedding during the offseason. You have been teasing him the whole day, but you finally send him over the edge when you eat a cupcake in quite an unusual way in front of him...

•warnings: SMUT, kinda public smut? unprotected p in v sex, fingering, lots of teasing, mentions of licking frosting off of body parts, weddings, I think that's all ;)

“Y/n!” Joe called from the bottom of the stairs, “you ready babe?”

“Coming!” You yelled from the upstairs hallway, holding onto your black heels as you made your way down the steps. Joe’s eyes lit up as he watched you from the bottom of the stairs. You looked absolutely gorgeous. To Joe, you always looked gorgeous. But the satin, spaghetti strap maroon dress that adorned your body and accented your curves nicely, made you look divine.

“Wow, look at you…” Joe trailed off as he snaked his hands up your waist. “You like it?” you ask with a sly grin. Joe wet his lips, “I love it. You look beautiful, Y/n.”

You wrapped your arms around Joe’s neck, letting your hands rest on his shoulders blades as the two of you leaned in to share a passionate kiss. Sharing kisses like these with Joe never gets old. Joe pulled away from you and you started to massage his shoulder, gently digging your fingers into the muscles of his back. Joe closed his eyes and hummed blissfully as you worked at his sore muscles. With off-season workouts starting earlier this week, Joe had been using muscles he hadn’t used since January. You knew this little massage helped ease the ache in his muscles, but you also knew it made a different type of ache grow more and more. May was always a busy month for you and Joe. Off season workouts begin and before you know it OTA’s start and training camp will be right around the corner. With Joe being busy during the day, he’s usually exhausted by the time he gets home to shower and get a nice warm meal in his belly—courtesy of you. It’s been a while since the two of you have shared an intimate moment. You moved your hands away from his back muscles, bringing your delicate touch to his biceps which have grown significantly in the last couple of months. You gently squeezed the tight, bulging muscle before bringing your hands up to his chest. You let your hand rest on his sternum as you looked into his blue eyes.

“What time do we have to be at the wedding?” You asked lowly, feeling a warmth pool in your belly at the thought of having a moment with Joe before you had to leave. Joe glanced at the clock, “Well, if you want to see your college roommate get married, we should probably leave right now.”

You let out a small sigh of defeat as you took your hands away from your boyfriends chest. You definitely weren’t getting your moment alone with Joe right now.

“You ready?” He asked, to which you responded with a soft smile and nod of your head. Joe pecked your cheek before he walked away from you. “I have to grab my jacket, then we can head out.” He went off to the laundry room to retrieve his checkered suit jacket that matched nicely with his white t-shirt and maroon dress pants. When Joe appeared once again in the entry way of your home, he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you out of the front door to his sports car that was parked outside.

Today your college roommate Lauren is getting married. Lauren is a ditzy blonde kindergarten teacher. Although she’s a bit scatterbrained sometimes, she’s such a sweetheart and she does great with the kids. You always joke around withJoe that someday the Burrow children will have her as their teacher. Joe of course just laughs at your joke. He isn’t a big fan of Lauren’s, but she is your friend and Joe loves you, so he puts up with it.

The drive to the venue was calm and quiet. Joe had a hand placed on your bare thigh where the slit of dress starts. His fingers occasionally brushing against your soft skin as his fingers on the steering wheel tap along to the beat of some Kid Cudi song playing lowly in the background. You wanted the aux, but Joe knew you’d only play Taylor Swift and he claimed he wasn’t exactly “in the mood for that”. The venue was about twenty minutes outside of Cincinnati, so it wasn't too far of drive. You and Joe arrived ten minutes before the wedding was supposed to begin. The two of you finding your seats next to an older woman who introduced herself as Laurens great aunt. She’s a sweet lady, just like Lauren. During the ceremony, you found yourself tearing up multiple times, especially during the vow exchange. You quickly wiped away a tear that fell down your cheek as you watched the happy couple exchange their loving vows with one another. Joe reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently. Weddings always made you cry. You can only imagine how much of a mess you’ll be when you get married someday.

The ceremony ended and it was time for the reception. You and Joe were seated at a table with someone the two of you just so happened to be very close with.

“Hey Sam,” Joe said, patting Sam’s back as Sam stood up and gave Joe a signature bro hug. You playfully rolled your eyes at the greeting. Sam’s girlfriend Jess doing the same. You walked over to her and said your hellos as Joe and Sam were talking about who knows what. Sam was good friends with Lauren’s fiancé, well husband, Ethan in high school. Joe pulled out the chair beside Jess, motioning for you to sit down. You smiled and thanked him softly, smoothing out your satin dress as Joe sat beside you next to Sam.

“I’m starving,” Sam said, looking between the three of you, “you guys want to go get some food?”

You got ready to stand up, but Joe gently pushed your back down. He shook his head, “I’ll get something for you, sweets. What do you want?” You smiled, “Thanks, but I can get myself a plate.” Joe gave you a pointed look, making you sigh in defeat. “Fine,” you said, “I’m not picky, just get me whatever you’re having.” Joe shrugged, “Easy enough. We’ll be right back.”

The two football players and Jess went off to get in line for food, leaving you at the table all by yourself. You took this opportunity to go and talk to Lauren. You saw her at a table with her cousins, laughing along with something her cousin Sydney said. Lauren’s eyes lit up as she saw you approach the table.

“Y/n!” she squealed, walking over to you and throwing her arms around you. You giggled and put your arms around her, squeezing her gently. “I was just looking for you!” She said with a grin as she pulled away from you. Even though you really only talked to Lauren during your freshman and sophomore year of college, the two of you are still great friends.

You smiled, “Congratulations! You look beautiful, Laur.” She did a little twirl in her white reception dress, “It’s cute isn’t it?” You nodded. The blonde grinned once again, “It’s so good to see you, where’s Joe?”

You pointed over to the other room where all of the food was. “He’s over there getting us food.” Lauren hummed, “Well enjoy some for me, I’m sure I won’t get much time to eat tonight.”

The reception had just started and Lauren and Ethan were already busy going around each table and thanking guests for coming and celebrating their big day. As more guests arrive, they’re only get busier.

You smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be able to find some time. I’ll talk to you and Ethan more later,” you pulled her into another hug, “congrats again.” You walked away from Lauren as she went away to go find Ethan. Joe, Sam and Jess got back to the table the same time that you did. Joe say your plate down at your spot. He had gotten both of you a fillet and roasted potatoes. You thanked Joe and sat down in the chair, enjoying your meal with your boyfriend and friends. As you all ate, the maid of honor and best man gave their speeches. The speeches were all very thoughtful and sweet, capturing both Lauren and Ethan extremely well. Waiters came around to all of the tables, clearing plates and handing out flutes full of bubbly champagne. Joe thanked the waiter and grabbed two glasses, one for him and one for you.

“I thought you didn’t like champagne?” You asked, taking a sip of the bubbly. Joe shrugged, “It’s alright. Thought I would at least drink one with you.” You hummed in amusement as you sat the flute back down on the table. You watched as Joe finished off his champagne. A bit of the bubbly liquid dripping down his chin. Your breath hitched as you watched Joe lick the liquid from his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. He put the glass down on the table and slowly took his gaze away from yours. He knew what he was doing to you.

Some time had passed and the two of you were engaged in conversation with Sam and Jess. As you were talking about your vacation plans before OTA’s, you felt Joe place his hand on your thigh, slowly bringing up to the hem of your dress slit. His fingers toyed with the satin material before they found their way under your dress. You glanced over at Joe, seeing him nod along to what Jess was saying, not even seeming fazed by his actions. You brought your gaze back to Jess, giving her a small smile. You had to play it cool…they cant get suspicious. You gasped lightly as you felt Joe’s fingers sneak past the side of your lace panties and begin playing with your sensitive clit. Your hand gripped the table as he entered two fingers into the entrance of your soaked core, his thumb still teasing your clit as he rhythmically pumped his fingers in out of you.

“So Y/n, you and Joe going anywhere?”

Joe added another finger and picked up the pace, rubbing your clit faster. Your legs began to twitch at his teasing motions. You brought you hand up to your mouth, muffling the whimper that escaped your mouth.

“You OK?” Joe asked, giving you a concerned look. You looked at him with wide eyes. How he could act normal as if he wasn’t giving you an orgasm under the table was appalling to you. You pulled your hand away from your mouth, giving him a tight lipped smile, “I’m fine,” you breathed out, closing your eyes as you felt your walls tighten around Joe’s fingers. You were so close.

“We’re uh, actually going to-uh,” You cleared your throat, trying to hold back your moans of pleasure as you spoke. Joe stopped rubbing your clit and you pulled his hand out of your dress, your juices covering his fingers as he pulled them out of you. “South Carolina for a week.” You finished with a tight smile. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Joe nod. Your core was aching,wanting more than just his skilled hands to bring you to your climax. Joe looked at you with a smirk as you grimaced slightly from the arousal between your thighs. Sam and Jess got up from the table and went off to find the open bar, getting a couple drinks each. Once the couple was far enough away from the table, Joe brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean. He did it in such a smooth manner that no one would even be suspicious.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” You said lowly, looking at Joe with wide eyes.

“What?” he pulled his index finger out of his mouth with a pop, “fingered you under the table or didn’t let you finish?” He asked smugly. You shook your head and looked away from him. You couldn’t believe him right now. Weeks of not having any intimate interaction and Joe chooses your college roommates wedding to get frisky with you!? You knew you needed to tease him somehow the way he teased you. You looked around the room of the reception venue, trying to think of the perfect way to tease your boyfriend. It suddenly hit you when your eyes landed on the dessert table. A sly smile made its way onto your face as you gazed at the cupcakes sitting on the table.

You got up from your chair and flattened out your maroon dress, glancing at Joe, “I’ll be right back.” Was all you said as you walked off to the dessert table. You grabbed a plate and picked up a vanilla cupcake. A large helping of white buttercream frosting was perfectly piped onto the cupcake and finished off with just a hint of gold sprinkles. Perfect…You thought as you looked at the cupcake. Satisfied with your choice, you walked back over to the table and greeted Joe with a sultry smile. You sat back down in your seat and carefully unwrapped the cupcake. You placed the wrapper down on the plate and picked the cupcake up. Joe watched with lust filled eyes as you brought your finger up to the white frosting, swiping the side of the frosting so a generous amount was on the tip of your finger. You eyed him as you brought your frosting covered finger up to your mouth. You put your finger in your mouth, licking the sugary substance off the tip. You made a show of going back for more.

“Mmm,” you moaned out, “so good.” You brought the cupcake up to your mouth, licking a stripe all the way around the white frosting. You smirked in amusement as you noticed Joe’s jaw clench at your teasing actions. As you licked the frosting you made sure to keep your eyes locked with Joe the entire time. The unbroken eye contact only adding to the built up arousal you both were feeling. You finished teasing Joe with the frosting and that’s when he had had enough with the teasing.

"Meet me in the bathroom..." He whispered in your ear, his hot breath on your neck making you shiver involuntarily. Joe pulled his head away from yours and straightened his checkered suit jacket. You watched as he walked off to the bathroom. His strides were so casual, acting as if he wasn't about to rock your world in a matter of minutes. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you saw the door to the one stall bathroom open and close. You glanced around your surroundings, making sure nobody would catch you head off to the bathroom moments after Joe did. Many of the guests were either on the dance floor or at the open bar waiting for their booze, so they wouldn't even take a second glance if they saw you walk past them and head to the bathroom after your lover. You stood from the table and readjusted the maroon material of your dress before you headed towards the bathroom. You reached for the door handle, swinging the bathroom door open. Before you had any time to react, Joe crashed his lips onto yours, feverishly kissing you. You fell into the kiss, his strong arms supporting your body as he reached out to the lock the bathroom door. You pulled away from Joe, already out of breath from the couple harsh kisses.

"We have to be quick," you breathed out, already sliding your panties off as you spoke, "don't want anyone to be suspicious of us." Joe hummed, "Yes ma'am." His lips were on yours again as he took off his suit jacket, throwing it aside to the floor. Your lips connected as Joe pushed you against the sink counter. "Jump," he said huskily. You followed his instructions, sitting against the bathroom counter. Joe began to kiss down your neck, sucking the delicate skin and being sure to leave reddish purple blotches on different areas. As his head moved down to your chest you let your hands fall to his curly hair. Joe had started growing his hair out, and boy did you love it. Especially when he wears a headband. Those dark blonde curls in a headband had you (and others) going absolutely feral. Joe pulled the spaghetti straps of your dress down slightly, just enough to give him access to your bare breasts. He began to kiss the swollen skin of your right breast, tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple before he put his mouth around it and started to suck at the sensitive bud. You bit your lip and moaned in pleasure as your hands tugged at his curls. One thing about Joe was that he always knew how to pleasure you. Whether it took two minutes or twelve, Joe never failed at pleasuring you in ways you didn't even know was possible. After he was satisfied with pleasuring your sensitive nipples, he brought his face back up to yours, breath hot as he said, "I could really use some of that cupcake frosting right now." You cocked your head to the side, "And what would you do with that?" Joe brought his back down to your bare chest.

"I would put some frosting here...and here..." he motioned to both of your breasts. "And then, I would do this," you gasped as his tongue swirled around your nipples once again. Joe chuckled amusingly as he noticed you growing more and more aroused by his actions. "And then, once I'm done there, I would put some right here." He rubbed a veiny hand down your tummy. He looked up at you with lust filled eyes, "And I'd lick it up until theres nothing left." You bit your lip at his description. Too bad you're in a public bathroom and not at home. You could really use that frosting right about now...

"Would you like that, Y/n?" Joe asked, his voice sultry. You nodded, "It sounds so good Joe." He hummed in agreement, "It'll have to wait for later tonight...this will have to do for now."

At this point, you didn't care where you and Joe got intimate. It has been weeks since you've had sex, plus you needed him badly.

"Joe," you whimpered out, "I need you." Joe's veiny hands ran down your torso, stopping when they reached your hips. He gave them a gentle squeeze before he pulled his hands off of them. Joe quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs in one swift motion. His large cock bulging out of his underwear as his erection grew from being out of the restraint of his tight pants. He pulled his undergarments down as you pulled your satin dress to one side, giving him full access to your dripping core through the slit of your dress. Joe lined himself up with your entrance and thrusted himself into you. You threw your head back in pleasure as the tip of his cock repeatedly pushed up against your cervix. You straightened your neck as Joe leaned forward to kiss you, hungrily as he urgently thrusted into you. It was obvious that you were both deprived of one another's touch and intimacy. Joe pumped himself deeper into you as his forehead rested against the crook of your neck.

"You feel so good Y/n," he panted, letting a groan slip out, "so good." You moaned out in blissful pleasure as the speed of his thrusts picked up, "M-more, please." You practically whimpered out, "I'm so close Joe." Another thing about Joe was that he always had you begging for more. You felt your walls tighten around his cock as a familiar warmth pooled in your lower belly. "I'm- uh," you moaned incoherently, "gonna cum." Joe brought a hand down to your core, rubbing his finger against your sensitive clit in order to make you cum harder and faster. You felt like you couldn't form words as Joe pleasured you. Your face contorted into one of pleasure as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. "That's it pretty girl," he said, gritting his teeth as he two was growing close to his release, "cum for me." One last thrust of his hips had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your legs shaking as your juices coated Joe's cock when you came down from your high. You both were moaning messes as Joe thrusted a couple more times, he went to pull out when his orgasm grew close, but you stopped him. "Don't" you breathed out, stopping him, "cum inside of me, please. I wanna feel you..." That's all Joe needed to hear before he too came, his hot cum filling you up and dripping from your cunt as he pulled out of you. Both of your chests heaved as you recovered from your intense orgasms.

"That was amazing," you breathed out, letting your hands rest against Joe's shoulders, who still stood between your legs. "We should do that again sometime." He chuckled softly, backing away from you and grabbing a handful of paper towels so the two of you could clean yourselves off. He slyly grinned as he said, "We should, but with the frosting next time." You chuckled at his suggestion as you pushed yourself off of the counter, legs wobbly as you stood. You wiped your soaked core and thighs clean of a mixture of yours and Joe's cum, Joe doing the same with his manhood. You readjusted your dress straps and stood in front of the mirror, fixing your hair and straightening out your dress so that nobody would know you were busy getting your guts rearranged in the bathroom. Joe stood next to you, fixing his dark blonde curls before he zipped his maroon pants. You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his body, the two of you leaning in to share a passionate kiss. Joe pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. You smiled softly up at him, staring into those blue eyes you were obsessed with.

"We should go back out there." He said lowly. You nodded in agreement, "You go first." he said, pushing you gently towards the bathroom door. You unlocked the door, swinging it open and walking out of the bathroom. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be waiting on the occupied bathroom. You walked back over to yours and Joe's table. As you got closer you saw Sam and Jess sitting in their chairs, laughing about something with one another. Jess' eyes lit up as she saw you come back to the table and sit down. "There you are," she smiled, "we were wondering where you went."

You had to come up with a lie. Or not, they didn't have to hear the whole truth. "I was in the bathroom." Sam nodded, "I assumed. Where's Joe?" Your breath hitched, "Oh he's-." You felt a hand press against your back. "Right here." Joe said with a small smile as he sat back down in his chair. He let out a breath, "I was on my way to the bar, got caught up talking with some fans." Jess nodded, "Same thing happened to Sam."

Sam stood from his chair and excused himself. You looked over at Joe, smiling softly at him as he placed a hand on your thigh. Something about him looked different...

Your eyes widened as you saw Sam walk back to the table with Joe's checkered suit jacket in his hands. Oh no. You mentally cursed yourself as Sam stood in front of you and Joe, his lips in a straight line as he held the jacket up.

"Any idea why this was on the bathroom floor?" Joe shrugged, his cheeks turning pink, "Oops." Was all he said as he took the jacket from Sam.

You and Joe may have gotten caught, but it was totally worth it.

hey loves!

a double update? wow, its your lucky night babes ;)

i literally NEVER write smut, so i aplogize if it's not good. but i won't lie, this had me giggling and kicking my feet in a few spots🤭 some parts I'm shocked i could write, BUT i’m actually very proud of myself for writing it so yay lol

if you absolutely hated this please be nice. like i said, i dont ever write smut. this idea came to me when i was eating a cupcake at my grad party. i knew i just had to write it HAHA

anyways, i hope everyone is doing well! thank you so much for reading my work and always having something sweet to say about it. it means so much to me🤍

tags: @wickedfun9 @theoneandonlyfanz @burrowstyles5 @sublimemusic-rebel @stainednailpolishremover

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic

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