#they can both celebrate bringing their own touch to the table

[artisyghostlybird-gelat]

This is my @mlsecretsanta for @marzfartz I wish you very happy holidays and I hope you like my gift! Have a nice rest of the year~

[v6quewrlds]

HOT IN HERRE, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀6.8k.

in the wise words of nelly, "looking for the right time to flash them keys. then, i'm leaving."

author's note⠀⁎⠀coming up with a summary actually almost ended me so pls excuse the lack thereof. inspired by wedding joey <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, 3rd person [she/her], semi-public sex, quickie, wall sex, both protected & unprotected sex lol, fingering, teeny tiny hint of exhibitionism, mirror sex, dom/sub dynamics but not really, language, praise.

She loved this part of weddings—the moment when the formalities gave way to the raw, unfiltered joy of coming together to celebrate. It was cheesy, finding meaning in the men loosening their ties and rolling up their sleeves, the women ridding themselves of their heels and dancing barefoot, but she couldn’t help it.

It certainly didn't hurt that both she and Joe were unconstrained by the responsibilities of being part of the wedding party. No unflattering bridesmaid dresses to wear or awkward groomsmen to coordinate with. No raging bridezillas to talk off the edge in the bridal suite. And most importantly, the freedom to leave whenever they pleased.

The open bar was a delightful sight, and Joe had already taken advantage of it a few times. His cheeks were flushed with the loss of his inhibition, pale blue eyes shining with the relief of being rid of the self-consciousness that often crept up his spine. The off-season had been good to him. Without an injury to rehab or games to train for, Joe had been able to indulge in the simple things—like drinking at a wedding without worrying about a laundry list of consequences.

The proof of the off-season's benevolence lay in Joe's relaxed posture, shoulders pressed back, one hand resting comfortably in the pocket of his well-tailored navy blue dress pants, the other loosely gripping an empty champagne flute. She watched him from a few feet away, sandy blonde locks perfectly styled and gelled into place, his tall frame a show of masculine grace amidst the sea of wedding guests.

"Here's your drinks, Miss," the bartender's voice cut through the buzz of the reception, handing her two highball glasses filled with fruity, dangerous drinks. She took the glasses with a grateful smile, the cool condensation leaving a light sheen on her fingers. One of the groomsmen was in the middle of a story, Joe's shoulders shaking with laughter, when she approached. The scent of his cologne mingled with the air, twisting in the air like invisible vines that wrapped around her senses and drew her closer.

"Thirsty?" she asked, her voice low and playful, sliding one of the drinks into Joe's waiting hand. His eyes lit up as he took a tentative sip, the alcohol playing a dance of sparks across his tongue.

"Thank you, beautiful," Joe murmured, setting the flute down on a table nearby, leaning over to kiss her cheek. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt his hand sneak around to her lower back, smoothing down the fabric of her dress before moving to rest gently on her hip. The music grew louder as the DJ switched to a more upbeat playlist, and the dance floor began to fill.

She took a sip of her own drink, watching the crowd sway and mingle. The lights cast a warm glow on everyone's faces, and the chatter of conversation filled the air like a symphony of laughter. She felt Joe's hand tighten on her hip as they conversed with the groomsmen, unconsciously bringing her closer. The open back of her floor-length laurel green dress revealed smooth, brown skin that ached to be touched. His palm was warm, his fingers firm as they danced just above the fabric, hinting at the desire that simmered beneath the surface.

Selfishly, she was relieved when the groomsmen were pulled away by another member of the wedding party, leaving Joe to her mercy. She turned into him, her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece that had been searching for its match. "Can barely taste the alcohol in this drink," Joe said, his voice low and gruff. "You tryin' to get me loose?"

Her grin grew wicked as she leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Maybe." She whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw before trailing down to smooth over the fabric of his dress shirt. "You're pretty slutty when you're loose."

Joe's eyes widened for a moment before a smirk took hold of his lips. "I'm slutty?" He laughed, the sound a mix of surprise and delight. "I think you might have that backwards." His hand slipped from her hip to the small of her back, his thumb brushing against the bare skin.

"No, I don't think I do," she shot back with a tilt of her head. "You know exactly what I mean."

Joe took another sip of his drink, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "What do I do that's 'slutty'?" He challenged, his voice dropping to a teasing tone, an eyebrow cocked.

"The way you tousle your hair, you start rolling up your sleeves, these buttons," she said, her eyes sparkling as she gestured to his quarter undone shirt. "Everything about you screams 'slutty' when you let go."

Joe's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he took another sip of his drink, eyes filled with that familiar intensity. "Is that so?" He took her hand and placed it over his heart, feeling the steady thump beneath her fingertips. "You're the one who brings it out of me." His lifted her fingertips to his mouth, kissing each one, holding her gaze. "I'm pretty sure it's your favorite version of me."

The music changed to a rhythmic beat that made her hips sway involuntarily. She took a step back, pulling Joe with her. "C'mon, let's get those hips moving." He attempted to resist, protests spilling from his lips, but she was insistent, her eyes alight with glee. So he followed suit, allowing her to lead him to the dance floor, the alcohol loosening his joints.

As they found a spot amidst the writhing bodies, Joe felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest. The way she moved was mesmerizing, her curves swaying to the music like a serpent charmed by a flute. His hands found their way to her waist, and he pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together like they had been yearning for this moment. She turned around, pressing herself against him, her back arching so that her ass rubbed against his crotch. The heat from her body was like a brand, searing his desire into his very soul.

Under the haze of the dim lights and the pulse of the music, she felt Joe's hands wander over her body, the fabric of her dress gliding and rising under his touch. She leaned back into him, feeling the hard wall of his chest and the rapid beat of his heart. His breath was hot on her neck, his whispers a sweet symphony of want. "You're drivin' me crazy," Joe murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Gonna tear this dress off you later."

"Is that a promise?" She teased, breathless as Joe's hands slid down her sides. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breathing quickening with each caress. She leaned into him, her hips moving in time with the music, creating a delicious friction that had them both on the edge.

The air grew thick with desire as Joe's hands roamed, just ghosting over her chest. Not enough to draw any attention from the others nearby, but just enough that the message was clear. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, the sensation making her core tighten. "You're so fuckin' sexy when you're like this," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear as his arms settled on locking around her waist.

Her laugh was light, the music drowning out any sound of impropriety. "Like what?" She asked, challenged, the words slipping out between her teeth as she leaned back against him. "Tell me."

Joe took a deep breath, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear. "The way you move, the way you look at me like you're about to devour me whole." His hand traveled up to find her underboob, squeezing gently. "Tryin' so hard not to bend you over right here and fuck you senseless."

"See? Slutty." She giggled.

The music shifted, the opening chords of "Hot in Herre" by Nelly blasting through the speakers as the DJ announced a special request. His grip on her hips tightened instinctively, and she felt Joe stiffen behind her. She knew that reaction. Joe didn't sing, swore he had the voice of a dying cat, but there were a handful of songs that got him moving, and this was one of them. She'd snuck it onto a playlist before and watched him let loose in their kitchen, shirtless and overjoyed, singing horribly but indisputably free. She turned to look over her shoulder, grinning at the mix of amusement and horror on his face.

"Did you have somethin' to do with this?" Joe's eyes narrowed playfully at her, the corners of his mouth tugging upward.

She feigned innocence. "I don't remember." She shrugged, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck as he murmured, "You're the devil, you know that?"

Her smile grew as she felt his body begin to sway to the music, the tension in his arms giving way to a playful grip. She couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped her as she turned around, her arms looping around his neck.

"Caught," she conceded, her eyes lighting up as he swung her around to press his crotch against her ass. The beat grew heavier, and she felt her heart race in time with it. They danced, Joe's hands on her hips, guiding her movements, the heat from his body scalding her through their clothes. His mouth found her ear, echoing the lyrics of the early 2000s hit. She felt his teeth graze her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. "I've gotta get you out of here," he growled, turning her around, his hands moving lower to squeeze her ass.

She could feel the muscles tensing under his shirt, his body responding to the rhythm of the music and the proximity of hers. "Oh?" she breathed, playing coy, her voice syrupy.

Joe's grip tightened, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate grind against her. "You know what I mean," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

"But what about the wedding?" she wondered aloud, her breath hot and sweet with the scent of her drink.

"They won't miss us," Joe said, his voice gruff and commanding. "Gonna find us a bathroom, get a little taste of what's to come." His hand slipped down to the back of her thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before he took her hand and led her through the crowd.

The bathroom was tucked away in a quieter corner of the venue, impeccably clean and isolated from the noise of the celebrations. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the playfulness evaporated into the air. She felt Joe's hands on her again, but this time they were insistent, urgent. He pinned her against the wall as he kissed her, stealing her breath away with a fervor that was anything but innocent. His tongue danced with hers, his hands exploring her curves with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

What he wanted resulted in her dress pooled on the floor around her ankles, his hands on her hips as he hoisted her into his arms. The cold press of the wall against her bare back sent a shock through her body, making her gasp. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide with need. "Quiet," he murmured against her mouth, his teeth scraping her bottom lip as he kissed her again. His mouth moved to kiss the soft skin of her neck, her collarbone, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, the fabric of his pants rough against her skin. She could feel his erection pressing against her, the feeling of anticipation inevitably soaking through her panties. He kissed her neck, her jawline, his hands moving to cup her tits, squeezing them firmly before his thumbs rolled over her nipples. She moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure. The sound seemed to spur him on, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate grind that had her panting.

"You like that?" He whispered, his voice a dark promise.

She nodded, unable to form coherent words as Joe's thumbs continued their torturous dance over her sensitive peaks. Her breaths grew ragged, her body begging for more.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Joe murmured into her skin. Her breath hitched as she felt his hand slide down her stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a quick tug, they were on the floor, joining her dress. He stepped closer, brandishing a condom before aligning himself with her, and she could feel the heat of him, thick and insistent, pressing against her.

"You," she managed to say, her voice a shaky whisper. "I want you."

Joe's smirk grew as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock teasing her slick folds. "Good," he breathed, taking in the way her eyebrows scrunched together as his tip slid through her wetness. "Always get what you want, huh?" He pushed in slowly, watching her face contort as he filled her. She was so tight around him, her muscles clenching and releasing, urging him deeper.

Her legs tightened around his waist as Joe pushed in to the hilt, a soft whine escaping her as her back arched. She threw her head back, exposing the line of her neck, and he took full advantage, his teeth scraping against her skin as he began to move. The sound of their hips slapping together filled the small room, mixing with their muffled moans and gasps. The mirror across from them reflected their image, her eyes locked onto her reflection, watching Joe's strong arms flex as he held her up, the muscles in his back rippling with each thrust.

Her nails dug into Joe's shoulders. His hips moved faster, the sound of their skin echoing in the tension-filled air. "So fuckin' tight, goddamn," he murmured, his voice strained. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt the rush of pleasure building deep inside her.

Her walls clamped down on him, her pussy tightening around his cock. "Oh, fuck," she muttered, tensing as Joe hit a spot that made her eyes roll back. Her thighs were slung over his forearms, spreading her wide open for his mercy, but Joe showed her none of that. He pumped into her, relishing the way she bit her lip, trying to muffle her cries of pleasure.

"You like that?" He ground out. She nodded, unable to find the words as his cock slammed into her over and over. Her eyes glazed over with lust, and she felt a tremor in her core. "Say it," he ordered, his voice gruff. "Lemme hear you."

"Yes," she panted, her eyes snapping open to meet his in the mirror. The sight of Joe's blue eyes, dark with lust and focused solely on her, sent a jolt of desire through her body. The pleasure grew, each stroke bringing her closer to the edge, her walls pulsing around him. "I love it," she moaned, her voice a sweet surrender to his dominance.

"Fuckin' spoil you, don't I?" Joe whispered, his breath hot against her neck as he increased his tempo. Her legs tightened around him, her body moving in sync with his rhythm, a silent plea for more. "Can't get enough of this pussy," he murmured, his teeth sinking into the flesh of her shoulder. "Fuckin' made for me."

She threw her head back, her mouth opening in a silent scream as Joe slammed into her, hitting that perfect spot that sent her soaring over the edge. Her pussy clenched around him, a wave of pleasure washing over her, leaving her trembling in his arms. He held her up, her legs shaking, her breathing ragged as the orgasm ripped through her. She felt his cock thicken, his hips stuttering before he groaned and filled her with his release.

For a moment, they stayed like that, Joe's forehead resting against her shoulder, their chests heaving in unison. The world outside the bathroom faded away, leaving them in their own little bubble of passion. Then, with a final kiss, he set her down gently, his hands steadying her by the hips until she was stable on her feet. "Bathroom sex," she murmured, a hint of a laugh in her voice as she caught her breath. "We're so cliché."

Joe tucked himself back into his pants with a smug smile, zipping up as he stepped away from her. He bent down to pick up her panties, dangling them in front of her face before stuffing them into his pocket with a grin. "My trophy," he said, winking.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her own smile. "You're a caveman," she teased, her palms pressing into his shoulders to find her balanced as he helped her back into her dress. The fabric whispered against her skin as it slid back into place, the sensation heightening the post-orgasmic glow that washed over her. She stepped away from the wall, her legs wobbly from the intense release, and Joe couldn't help but admire the way she looked, her hair slightly disheveled, her eyes glazed, her lips swollen.

"Listen," Joe began, his own voice a little rough from their encounter. "You go touch up your makeup. I'll go tell the groom we gotta head out early, tell 'em you're not feelin' well." His eyes danced with excitement as he took her hand, leading her to the bathroom door. "I'll meet you by the elevator," he leaned down, brushing the strap of her dress aside to press his lips to her shoulder. "So I can fuck you properly before the night's over."

She nodded, biting her tongue as she watched him leave, closing the door behind him. Looking in the mirror, she smoothed down her hair, her breathing still uneven. Her makeup had held up well, just a slight smear of lipstick from their kisses. She swiped it away and washed her hands. Giving herself a stern look, she straightened her dress and left the bathroom, slipping back into the throng of the reception.

She weaved through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances thrown her way. When she reached the lobby, the cooler air was a shock to her flushed skin. She took a moment to compose herself, leaning against the grand staircase that led up to the hotel's upper levels.

Joe emerged from the reception hall, cheeks flushed and a smug smile playing on his lips. He made his way over to the groom, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. "Hey, man," he said, his voice as earnest as he could muster. "My girl's not feeling too hot. Think we're gonna head up to the room. It's been a long day for her." The groom, a friend of Joe's from college, looked at him with a knowing smirk, but Joe played the concerned boyfriend well. "Send our apologies to your wife, yeah?"

With a nod from his friend, Joe turned and headed straight for the lobby, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of her. He spotted her leaning against the grand staircase, her hand idly playing with the fabric of her dress. She looked up, their gazes locking, and a silent understanding passed between them. The air was thick with the promise of what was to come.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing an empty car, and they didn't waste a second. Joe stepped in and pulled her with him, pressing her against the mirrored wall before the doors had fully closed. His mouth found hers, his hands roamed over her body, rekindling the flames that had only just been extinguished in the bathroom.

"Mm, god, I need you," Joe murmured against her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hand slid down to cup her ass. The elevator chimed softly, signaling their ascent to their floor. She felt her core tighten in anticipation, her breaths coming in short gasps as his kisses grew more insistent.

When the doors slid open, Joe took her hand, leading her down the hallway. The plush carpet muffled their footsteps as they approached their suite. He shut the door firmly behind them, the sound of the lock clicking echoing through the room.

"Strip," he demanded, his hands already reaching for his belt.

Her eyes widened at his command, but she didn't argue. She stepped away from him, her movements slow and deliberate as she removed her dress. It fell to the floor with a soft whisper, leaving her in nothing but her bra and heels.

Joe's eyes roved over her body, his cock twitching in his pants. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing the line of her bra before unclipping it. It fell away, leaving her torso bare. He took one in his hand, kneading it gently before leaning down to suck on her nipple. She gasped, her hand coming up to his hair, her nails scraping his scalp.

"Bed," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, leading the way. The room was bathed in a soft glow from the dimmed lights, the plush king-sized bed in the center of the room beckoning them closer.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she made her way over, Joe following closely behind, his eyes never leaving hers. When she reached the edge of the bed, she turned to face him, her heart hammering in her chest. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to trace the lines of her collarbones. His thumbs brushed her breasts, sending a shiver down her spine as he pushed her back onto the mattress.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling her. His eyes searched hers for a moment, his pupils wide and dark. Then, with a predatory smile, he leaned down to kiss her, his teeth grazing her bottom lip. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling his hardness pressing against her thigh.

He sat back on his heels, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt, holding her gaze as the fabric parted further. She took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in the sight of him as he appeared before her, pants still on. He reached down to undo his belt, his movements slow and deliberate, watching her every reaction. Her thighs were splayed open, the point of her heels digging into the mattress as she anticipated his next move. Her lips parted, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as his shirt fell away, revealing his broad chest and his arms, corded with muscles and veins from years of training.

Joe reached down and tugged at his pants, his cock springing free, already hard and glistening at the tip. Her eyes went wide, and she sat up, reaching for him, but he stopped her, placing a hand on her thigh, squeezing gently.

"Patience," he whispered darkly. He slid down the bed, his mouth watering as he took in the sight of her bare center, still swollen from their bathroom encounter.

He leaned down and took a deep breath, the scent of her desire making his head spin. "So sweet," he murmured, his tongue darting out to taste her through the fabric of her panties.

Her hips bucked upwards, a moan escaping her as she felt him tease her through the thin barrier. She tried to wiggle them down, but Joe's hand on her lower stomach kept her in place. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine.

"Need it that bad?" he questioned, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in short gasps. With a chuckle, Joe slid her panties down her legs, taking his sweet time as he revealed her to him. He tossed them aside, the fabric landing on the floor silently. Then he sat back on his heels once more, pulling her toward him by her ankles, pushing her legs open, and moving to sit between her thighs.

"Go 'head, touch yourself," Joe murmured, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "Let me see how bad you want it."

Her chest heaved as she hesitantly reached down to touch herself. Her fingertips glided over her folds, the slickness making her shiver. Joe watched, his own breathing growing more ragged as he watched, his left hand finding her left leg, his thumb digging into the muscles of her calf.

Her eyes never left his as she slid a finger inside herself, her hips lifting slightly to meet her own touch. His gaze darkened, his grip tightening on her leg. "That's it," he encouraged, his voice hoarse. "Make yourself feel good, baby."

Her hand moved slowly at first, exploring her own wetness, her thumb pressing against her clit. She whined softly, the sound low and needy. Joe's eyes were glued to the sight, watching as she grew bolder, her arousal sticky on her fingers. His hand tightened on her calf, his cock jutting upwards, pushing against the seam of his slacks, demanding attention. He shifted her leg, pulling it to rest over his shoulder, forcing her to open herself more fully to him.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So fuckin' pretty." His right hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her slit, spreading her wetness, watching as her pupils dilated. He turned his head to kiss the calf that rested on his shoulder, his teeth nipping at the soft skin before his gaze returned to hers. "Keep goin', baby."

Her hand picked up the pace, her eyes fluttering as she watched him watch her. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, the heat spreading through her core. Joe's eyes never left hers, his breathing shallow and quick. His thumb brushed her clit, sending a jolt through her body, and she moaned, her hand moving faster.

"So fucking close, aren't you?" he murmured. She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers buried knuckle deep in her pussy as she chased the high of her second orgasm. Joe leaned over her, his breath hot against her cheek as he whispered, "Let me have it, baby. Let me see you come for me." His words were a command and a plea wrapped in one, and she felt her body responding, her walls clenching around her fingers as she approached the edge.

Her left leg slung over his shoulder pressed closer to her chest as he leaned over her, the heat from his breath on her skin making her quiver. His thumb circled her clit, the pressure increasing steadily. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her body tightening as she felt the peak approaching. The stretch of her fingers inside her, the slickness of her arousal, and the firm pressure of his thumb on her most sensitive spot drove her to brink of insanity. Her hand was a blur, her eyes screwed shut, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

Joe pulled back, his left hand still holding her calf tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. With his right hand, he replaced her own, his thumb pressing harder into her clit, his index and middle fingers sliding into her pussy. Her eyes flew open, the sudden sensation of his larger, more demanding touch making her moan.

"Hmm, better?" Joe smirked, his fingers still working their magic on her clit. She nodded frantically. She swallowed shallowly, his voice low and husky as he whispered, "You're so fuckin' wet for me. I can't wait to feel you squeeze around my cock." His thumb didn't relent, the pressure unyielding, pushing her closer to the precipice.

Her eyes fluttered shut again, her body trembling with the effort to hold back her climax. "Don't get lost on me," he whispered, voicing a demand she couldn't ignore. His fingers danced over her clit, playing her body like a maestro conducting a symphony of pleasure. She felt the wave cresting, ready to crash down on her.

"Fuckin' perfect," Joe groaned as her orgasm washed over her, her body convulsing with pleasure. He watched as she rode the wave, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open in a silent scream. He didn't stop, his thumb circling her clit even as she came down from the high. When she had recovered enough, he pulled away just enough to replace his fingers with the slide of his cock into her, filling her up in one smooth stroke.

"Joe- fuck," she cursed under her breath, her voice faltering and breaking as Joe began to thrust into her slowly. Her eyes shot open, locking with his intense gaze as he filled her completely. He pushed in deep, hitting that spot that had her seeing stars, making her toes curl and her legs quiver.

He paused to lift her right leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his penetration. "Feel good?" he asked, checking to make sure she was still feeling it. She nodded, gasping low in her throat each time his hips pulled back. The drag of his cock was slow, deliberate, and maddening. "Good," he murmured, his eyes hooded as he watched her process the sensations.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her in place as his thrusts grew more forceful, his strokes deep and powerful. His hips rolled slowly into hers, drawing out her gasps of pleasure. The bed frame groaned in time with their rhythm, the soft slap of skin echoing in the quiet room. Her nails dug into the sheets as she arched her back, her breasts bouncing with every impact.

Their eyes remained locked, their breaths mingling as Joe leaned down to kiss her, his tongue delving deep into her mouth. The kiss was fierce, a silent declaration of ownership and desire. Her hands roamed his back, tracing the lines of his muscles as she tried to get closer, to feel every inch of him. His hands found hers, tangling their fingers together, pressing them into the mattress above her head.

He picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her with a steadfast rhythm that had her moaning uncontrollably. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she whispered his name. "Joe, Joe, Joe," the syllables falling from her lips as if that was all she were made to say.

He could feel her tightening around him, the walls of her pussy gripping his shaft in a vice-like embrace. He knew she was close, but he wasn't ready for it to end. He wanted to draw it out, to savor every second of her unraveling beneath him. He leaned down to kiss her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin as he considered his next move.

Then he saw it, the mirror to the right of the bed reflecting their entwined bodies: her brown skin glowing against the stark whiteness of the sheets, his tanned arms flexing with each thrust, their faces a blend of pleasure and determination. The sight of them together, captured in the reflection, was too much to resist. He pulled back, breaking their kiss, and ordered her onto her knees.

He tapped her ass gently—once, twice—as he angled her body, positioning her just right for his view. Her breath hitched, her eyes meeting his in the mirror as she settled onto her elbows and knees, her back arching as she pushed her ass up towards him. Joe took a moment to appreciate the sight: her ass in the air, the way her thighs glistened with their combined juices, the way she looked at him with a deceiving mix of innocence and lust.

"Beautiful," Joe murmured, his voice thick with lust as he took in the view of her on all fours, her back arched, presenting herself to him. He palmed her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lined up the head of his cock with her entrance. With a single, powerful thrust, he filled her, watching in the mirror as she took all of him in, her eyebrows furrowing in pleasure.

She moaned weakly, her chest falling forward as he held her hips firmly, his grip unyielding. The mirror reflected the way Joe's body moved over hers, the power and control in each stroke. He watched her face, her eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, as he pumped into her from behind. The sound of their flesh colliding filled the air, his hands squeezing and releasing her hips in time with his thrusts.

"Look at yourself," he whispered, his voice gruff and demanding. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. She saw the passion etched on her features, the way Joe's eyes devoured her body as he claimed her. She watched as she pushed her ass back to meet his hips, gasps and sighs leaving her lips with each deep, possessive stroke.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Joe growled as he pumped in and out of her. She moaned, feeling his eyes on her, feeling his cock stretch and fill her. It was an exquisite mix of pleasure and vulnerability, knowing that he could see every part of her, that he had complete control over her body.

"Love your cock," she whimpered, the words spilling out of her unbidden. The sound of Joe's skin slapping against her ass grew louder, his movements more urgent. He leaned over her, pressing her down into the bed as he slammed into her, his fingers digging into her hips.

"Yeah?" Joe grunted, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her squirm under his touch. "You like how it feels, baby?" He knew she did. The way she was pushing back against him, the little sounds of pleasure she made, the way she tightened around him—it was all clear as day. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "Tell me how much you love it."

Her face heated as she stared into the mirror. Her eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, her mouth parted in a silent moan. "I love it, babe," she managed to say, her voice strained. "I love it so much. Feels so good."

"That's my girl," Joe murmured, his strokes becoming faster, harder. The headboard of the bed thumped rhythmically against the wall, each impact sending a shockwave through her body. Her eyes grew wider as she watched Joe's face in the mirror, his jaw clenched and his cheeks flushed with arousal. "Fuckin' yourself back onto me like that," he groaned. "So hot. So fuckin' hot."

Her movements began to falter, her hands digging into the bedsheets in frustration as she fought to stay upright. "Baby," she whined, "I can't... I- fuck, it's too much."

Joe's response was a low, dark chuckle. "You can," he assured her, his voice a gentle rumble. "You can take it, baby. You want my help?" He reached around her, pulling her body upright until her back pressed against his chest. The shift in position drew a long, desperate moan from her throat as his cock hit a new angle, rubbing against her g-spot with each thrust.

"That's better," he hummed, his breath warm against her neck as he wrapped his arm around her waist. With her back against his chest, Joe's cock remained buried deep within her, his thrusts now shorter but no less intense. He nuzzled her neck, his nose nudging against her earlobe. "Need my hands too?"

With a nod, she leaned into him, her hips stuttering against him. He chuckled, his right hand creeping up to squeeze at the sides of her throat. She gasped, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth. His left hand found its way between her lips, sliding two fingers into her mouth, coating them with her saliva.

Suddenly, she felt those same fingers slide down her body, tracing a wet path to her clit. She moaned, her eyes flying open to meet his in the mirror again. He watched her face as he began to rub slow, torturous circles around her swollen bud. She reached down to grip his wrist, silently begging for more, for harder, faster, anything to get her over the edge again.

"Not yet," he murmured, his teeth scraping against her earlobe. "We're gonna make this last." He pinched her clit lightly, making her jolt and whimper. She could feel him smiling against her skin, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.

Their eyes locked in the mirror, his fingers working her clit in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was unbearable, a delicious torment that had her squirming and bucking her hips back against him. He groaned, his eyes dark with desire, and she realized he was just as lost in it as she was.

Joe's grip tightened on her throat, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to remind her of his control. It was a heady feeling, one that sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body. "Gonna come inside, baby," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Gonna fill you up. Get you all warm. Sound alright?"

She nodded frantically, her eyes glazed over with need. She felt Joe's cock swell, knew he was close, and she met his every thrust with an eager push of her hips. His fingers worked her clit in a relentless rhythm, the pressure building until she thought she would burst. "Do it," she choked out, the words barely audible. "Please, Joe."

"Beggin' so sweetly," Joe chuckled, the sound vibrating through her as he thrust into her with a new urgency. His fingers circled her clit faster, the pressure building until she was teetering on the edge of release. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she bit down on her lower lip to muffle her cries. The room spun with pleasure, the mirrored image of their joined bodies blurring as she felt herself climbing towards ecstasy. "Can't wait until it's our wedding night. Gonna fuck my pretty little wife right outta your wedding dress, just like you deserve."

And then, it hit her—a powerful, shattering orgasm that ripped through her body. She stuttered his name, her back arching and her muscles tightening around his cock. The pressure on her throat increased just enough to make her gasp for air, which only served to heighten the sensations flooding through her.

In the mirror, she watched Joe's face contort in pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt her pussy convulse around him. He grunted, his own climax following swiftly. With a final, deep thrust, he came inside her, filling her up with his warmth. His grip on her throat loosened, and she took a deep, shaky breath, her body going limp against him before falling forward onto the bed, Joe's cock still buried deep within her.

They stayed like that for a moment, their breathing ragged and mingling. Then Joe leaned down, kissing the back of her neck, his tongue tracing the line of her spine. "Fuck," he whispered, his voice still thick with desire. "We should do that more often."

She laughed, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Ditch parties to go fuck?" she teased, turning her head to look up at him, wincing when his cock slipped out of her.

He reached a greedy hand forward, squeezing the soft flesh of her ass, hypnotized by the sight of his spend leaking out of her, painting a warm trail on her inner thigh. "Every fuckin' time we get a chance," he murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. "Could get used to this."

She flipped onto her back, yawning and stretching out, her body boneless with satisfaction. "What was that about 'our wedding night'?" She asked, her eyes half-closed. She smiled when she felt his head find her chest, his cheek pressing into the softness of her breast.

Joe lifted his head, blue eyes tracing over her features. "Just planning ahead," he said with a happy sigh. "I meant it. If that's what you're asking."

Her hand found the crown of his head, fingers threading through his hair as she considered his words. "I want that too." The admission was soft, but it filled the space between them, full and warm.

Joe pulled away slightly, looking at her with a sudden seriousness. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

She nodded, her hand stroking his cheek. "More than anything," she said, her voice strong and clear.

The smile that spread across Joe's face was like the sun breaking through storm clouds. He tilted his head up to kiss her, a gentle press of his lips that spoke volumes. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Good to know."

[the-oblivious-writer]

With Her I Die |2|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Two: Carved Grief

warnings: grief and trauma, emotional distress/depression, isolation, and shauna's still pregnant in this universe

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

The wood takes shape beneath your knife, each careful scrape revealing what was always there, waiting. Your hands have finally stopped shaking enough to do this. Javi showed you how weeks ago, his patient instruction a momentary lifeline pulling you back toward something resembling purpose. The small wooden bear emerges slowly under your blade—crude but recognizable. For Shauna. For her baby. A talisman of protection neither of you believes in but both desperately need.

"That's actually pretty good."

Javi's voice startles you. You hadn't heard him approach, too lost in the meditative rhythm of carve, smooth, carve.

"It's nothing," you mutter, instinctively curling your hand around the bear.

"It's not nothing." He sits beside you, respectfully distant. "It's the first thing I've seen you make that isn't a weapon."

The observation stings with its accuracy. Since Jackie, all you've crafted are sharp things—spears, stakes, blades to defend against threats both real and imagined. This small bear marks a deviation, something born not from fear but from whatever fractured affection you have left to give.

"They're having some kind of... thing for Shauna later," Javi says carefully. "For the baby."

"I know."

You've been avoiding thinking about it—the makeshift baby shower the others have been planning, their desperate attempt at normalcy, at hope. The thought of celebration feels obscene in this place, with Jackie's absence still a wound that refuses to scab over.

"Will you come?" Javi asks, eyes fixed on his own half-carved piece of wood.

You don't answer immediately. Your instinct is refusal—the thought of forced smiles and manufactured joy makes your skin crawl. But then you think of Shauna, of her growing belly and the dark circles beneath her eyes that match your own, of her hand finding yours in the night when the nightmares come.

"Maybe," you finally say, and Javi nods, understanding the concession for what it is.

------

The cabin air feels oppressively thick with forced cheer. Taissa and Van have strung up pathetic decorations—bits of fabric tied together, wildflowers woven into crude garlands. Someone found an old blanket to drape over a rough wooden crate, creating an impromptu gift table. They've made an effort, you'll give them that.

You hover near the door, wooden bear clutched in your pocket, ready to retreat. Shauna sits in the center, looking both touched and uncomfortable with the attention, one hand perpetually resting on her swollen belly. When she spots you, her face brightens with genuine surprise.

"You came," she mouths across the room, and something in your chest constricts painfully.

You give a tight nod, shifting your weight from foot to foot, cataloging escape routes. The small gathering feels like too much after months of self-imposed isolation. Every laugh grates against your nerves, every moment of joy feels like a betrayal. How dare they find happiness here, in this place that took Jackie?

Mari approaches Shauna with something wrapped in leaves—a gift fashioned from found objects, likely. You watch the ritual unfold, the presentation of meager offerings: a crude rattle made from small stones in a hollowed piece of wood, a tiny cap knitted from unraveled sweater yarn, a collection of soft moss for bedding.

When it's your turn, you can't bring yourself to move. The others are looking at you expectantly, and suddenly you're drowning in their attention. Shauna saves you, like always.

"Give Y/N some space," she says firmly, meeting your eyes with understanding. "She can give me her gift later if she wants."

The tension doesn't fully dissipate, but attention shifts away from you. You slip outside, gulping in crisp air, the wooden bear still heavy in your pocket.

The fire offers blessed solitude, flames dancing in patterns that sometimes look like her face, her hair, her smile. You've spent countless nights here, staring into the embers, wondering if Jackie was warm in those final moments or if the cold took her gently, mercifully.

"May I join you?"

Lottie's voice is soft, a gentle intrusion. You don't respond, but she sits anyway, maintaining a careful distance that suggests she understands more than she should.

"I'm not into the hippie stuff," you say preemptively, defensive.

A small laugh escapes her, genuine enough to make you glance up. Lottie's face is illuminated by firelight, shadowing her eyes in ways that make her look both older and impossibly vulnerable.

"I know," she says simply. "You never have been. You're a bit different."

The words hang between you, cryptic and unsettling. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lottie doesn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the flames. "You don't need the rituals or the prayers or the signs," she finally says. "Your grief is its own kind of worship. Pure. Devoted."

Anger flares in your chest. "Don't romanticize this," you snap. "There's nothing special about feeling like you're dying every day."

"No," she agrees. "But there's something rare about loving someone so completely that their absence becomes a presence of its own."

The observation silences you, too accurate to deflect. You stare into the fire, hands clenched into fists to stop their trembling.

"She's still with you," Lottie continues, voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I can feel her sometimes, you know. Especially when you're around."

"Don't," you warn, voice cracking. "Don't talk about her like you knew her."

"I didn't know her like you did," Lottie acknowledges. "No one did. Not even Shauna."

At the mention of Shauna, you tense further, protective instinct flaring. "Shauna's different."

"Yes," Lottie agrees thoughtfully. "She is. She carries you both now. Jackie in memory, you in devotion."

You want to argue, to rage against her observations, but there's a gentleness to Lottie's presence that disarms you. She doesn't demand response or engagement. She simply sits, another soul warmed by the same fire, existing alongside your pain without trying to diminish or exploit it.

Minutes pass in silence. The crackling fire fills the void between words. Gradually, your shoulders loosen, your breathing steadies. There's something almost comforting about sitting with someone who doesn't expect you to be better, who doesn't flinch from the jagged edges of your grief.

"The forest speaks to me," Lottie says eventually, her voice barely audible above the fire's murmur. "It whispers secrets, shows me things. Beautiful things. Terrible things." She pauses, drawing a pattern in the dirt with her finger. "But you? You're still. Silent. Like a deep pool I can't see the bottom of."

You should find her words unsettling, should retreat back into defensive isolation. Instead, you find yourself oddly soothed by her acceptance of your opacity. Everyone else wants to fix you, to pull you back into the fold of the living. Lottie simply acknowledges your state without judgment.

"What do you want from me?" you finally ask.

Lottie smiles, a small, sad thing. "Nothing. That's why you'll eventually come to me yourself."

The cryptic certainty should irritate you, but instead, it lands like a prophecy you're too tired to fight. Perhaps there's freedom in surrendering to someone else's vision when you've lost sight of your own future.

From the cabin window, Shauna watches, one hand pressed against the cold glass, the other curled protectively around her belly. The sight of you with Lottie awakens something primitive in her chest—not jealousy exactly, but a territorial fear. Since Jackie's death, you've been hers to protect, to anchor. The thought of Lottie breaching those walls you've built, walls that only Shauna has been allowed to scale, unsettles her deeply.

"Everything okay?" Taissa asks, appearing beside her with a cup of pine needle tea.

"Fine," Shauna lies, accepting the tea without looking away from the window. "Just checking on Y/N."

Taissa follows her gaze to the two silhouettes by the fire. "That's the most I've seen her interact with anyone but you in months."

"Yeah," Shauna mumbles, the single syllable heavy with complexity.

"That's good, right?" Taissa probes, eyebrow raised. "We've all been worried about her."

"Sure," Shauna agrees automatically, but the unease persists, coiling in her stomach alongside the baby's movements. She should be relieved that you're engaging with someone else, showing signs of rejoining the group. Instead, she feels strangely betrayed, as if you're violating some unspoken pact.

She places the untouched tea on the windowsill and moves away, unable to watch anymore. The small pile of baby gifts mocks her with their hopeful presumption of future, of normalcy. Her fingers find the edge of the cloth-covered crate, gripping until her knuckles whiten.

"Shauna?" Van calls from across the room. "We're going to play a game. You in?"

Shauna forces a smile, fighting the impulse to run outside and interrupt whatever communion is happening between you and Lottie. "Yeah," she says with artificial brightness. "I'm in."

But her eyes drift back to the window, to the darkness beyond where you sit with someone else, and the baby kicks as if sensing her disquiet. She'll give you this moment, this tentative step toward something beyond grief. But later, in the dark, she'll reclaim her place as your anchor, your keeper, your living connection to Jackie.

For now, though, she turns away, leaving you to whatever understanding is growing between you and Lottie by the fire's glow. The bear you carved sits unseen in your pocket, waiting for the private moment when you'll press it into Shauna's palm—another secret, another bond, another link in the chain tethering you to each other in this wilderness of loss.

[ragnarockz]

Your stuff with Maya is so hot!! Would you be willing to do a Maya x fem!reader where they are all out at a bar and Matt and Sal both find reader attractive and are trying to see who can gain her attention and get her home. And Maya is also attracted to her and after watching them make asses of themselves she steps in and successfully takes reader from them and tells the guys they are fucking idiots and never stood a chance especially when she learns the only one reader wanted all night was Maya to begin with?? and then takes reader to her place and has her way with her?!?

GIVE ME SOME GRACE HERE WITH THIS ONE BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY EVER SHIED AWAY FROM WRITING CHARACTER X READER🥺💛🔒

ANYWAY! MAYA LOVES A CHALLENGE, DOES SHE NOT? 👀 And maybe you kinda sorta love her...for now 😈

You've been nursing your first drink for some time now as your boss orders another round. You blow out a loud exhale in annoyance as you scrunch your face before downing your glass. He's your boss and your uncle so you can't really ever complain to anyone. He gave you a pretty high end job that pays well as his personal assistant. You smile weakly as the bartender hands out another round; definitely their fifth and undoubtedly your second.

You don't see her but she sees you. Sitting at another table with Matt and Sal; she's been eyeing you as the two of them whisper that it's Todd McCoy at the bar with his group. Maya doesn't pay much attention to the chatter as she's more interested in keeping her eyes on what she hopes will be her prize for the night. It isn't until Sal bursts her bubble that you look over your shoulder at the commotion and eavesdrop a little into what they're whisper-yelling to one another.

"That's his PA; right? She's sitting on the edge? Dude, she's a smoke show!"

Sal whisper yells to Matt and Matt, adjusts his glasses before ducking his head closer down to the table.

"That's his niece or daughter or something like that. Just hired his own family I guess to keep whatever secrets close to his vest. Smart...he's got a lot of scandals swirling around him but no one fucking cares; he brings in the big money."

Maya scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest; flicking her ponytail off of her shoulder. She's facing your direction and her eyes haven't left you yet.

"He's a fucking asshole. He calls me asking for favors all the time and I tell him where he can stick his fucking favors. He doesn't even let her do her job! But, shit..."

Their whispers get lower and out of earshot and you can no longer hear what they're saying but now the three of them are all looking in your direction and the looks on their faces are telling.

It's some sort of challenge or game; some sort of determination and one upping each other. Who's dick is the biggest? Who can pull the strings? Who can rise to the top? The two men were bickering back and forth but Maya was cool and collected and soaked you in for as long as she could.

You turn your attention back to the bar as you know that they know you've been staring at them just as they've been staring at you. Pushing your drink away, you take your phone out from your pocket and mindlessly scroll through your favorite app. It doesn't take long for you to see some posts about Matt Remick and his indulgent Kool-Aid up and coming movie. Associated, of course, are Sal and Maya. You quickly glance around you as your thumb and pointer touch the screen to blow the photo up and get a better look at her.

Even though she's literally sitting behind you a few tables over.

Even though she's literally walking right up to you and you don't even notice until it's too late and you hear your Uncle's loud voice greeting her with nothing but sarcasm and backhanded compliments.

"Look who the cat dragged in! I see you and Remick and Saperstein are poaching in on our celebration...how obvious of you!"

He extends his hand to Maya who, doesn't take it. Instead, she gives him a half-baked smile that looks more like a grimace. She shoots a quick glance in your direction before she opens her mouth to reply; spitting nothing but venom out.

"Funny...wouldn't mark this as a celebration, looks more like a fucking funeral. Jesus...everyone looks fucking miserable, Todd. What did you do? Offer to cut them loose if they didn't show up here? God! And what? You dragged her into this too?"

She points her thumb back over her shoulder in your direction and makes you focus on her. The way her ponytail is perfect hanging behind her; her outfit looks like it peeled right out from a magazine. Her face; her expressions. She cold and calculated and undeniably really fucking hot. You slowly tuck your phone away just in case she catches a glance of what you've been looking at before she walked over here. Her. And before that? Also her.

God, you think to yourself as you bite your bottom lip, you're down bad for Maya Mason.

"Anyway, Todd...nice talking to you, as always. Next time you have a marketing question, ask your niece to call me instead of you. Isn't that her job? If not, we can always get her in with Continental. Scrub her name out from under yours..."

You swore your Uncle went white in the face as she chuckled nervously and brushed Maya off without a word, turning back to the members of your party. She nods her head, another win under her belt before she licks her lips and looks at you.

"We have an empty seat at our table if you'd rather join a real fucking party and not whatever the fuck your lame ass Uncle is trying to pull..."

And she leaves it at that as she walks away, leaving you to decide. It takes less than a second for you to slip off of the bar stool and follow at her heels. You sit yourself down at the empty spot between Maya and Sal with Matt across with you. You're familiar with them all; having been in the industry for so long all of these people are a little more than acquaintances.

The table goes quiet and you can feel the air shift between the four of you; going back to that low-level of whisper they had been engaging in earlier. The game has started and you wonder what it is.

Matt starts first; rambling on quickly about how he could use a new PA and your expertise and knowledge is perfect for him; perfect for Continental. It makes Maya roll her eyes and scoff as she shakes her head; basically kicking Matt from under the table.

You sit there with a pained smile on your face and wish it was Maya saying these things; wishing it was her asking you to be her personal assistant. You can only dream as Sal interjects Matt to now ramble on about executive challenges that he believes you can lend a hand in.

Maya loudly interjects as she reaches beside you to put her hand over yours which has been resting on your lap. You feel a warm shiver creep up your spine with the proximity of her. You can smell her perfume and almost feel her shirt touching your arm. You hold your breath.

"Fuck these two and fuck your lame ass funeral...how about we go to a real fucking party, just us? Just the girls?"

You feel like a trance has been put over you as you slowly nod your head and a small smile creeps onto your lips. She mimics you as she nods her head as well and matches the smile. You notice there's a look in her eye; a known feeling that she won whatever this was. Her smile turns hungry and you notice it but don't give it a second thought. Her hand still over yours she clutches it to pull you up and out of your seat to lead you out of the bar and into the waiting car parked outside.

She ushers you into the back seat and follows close behind you, basically sitting on top of you as she gets herself in and slams the car door closed.

"Those losers can find another ride home. Fuck them...thinking they were going to fucking win over me...pathetic..."

The rest of the car ride is quiet but you can feel the tension building between you and Maya. She found your hand with hers again and held it; clutched it tightly. She started making little circles with her thumb in the soft fold between your own thumb and pointer finger. She felt warm and cool at the same time. You could hear her breathing get more ragged, unhinged the closer you got to her place.

You knew what was coming and you had already accepted it the second you sat down at their table at the bar. You knew what the game was the second you felt Maya's gaze on you. And, you knew, exactly what the prize for winning such game was: you.

You barely make it into Maya's foyer before she gets you up against the door of what you quickly assume is a closet. You feel her hands ripping and pulling and dragging off your clothes in a hurried frenzy. Like she's starving, dying of thirst. Like the only thing she needs to survive is you and you alone. And you let her because, fuck, in this moment, who wouldn't? You moan loudly into her mouth when her lips collide with yours and you sink a little lower against the door as her hands find their way in between your legs and groping your breast.

You let her. She uses you.

You can barely make out anything in the darkened foyer with the shaded glass of her home. Obviously for privacy so peeping toms and paparazzi aren't sneaking peaks into her home at all hours. But a slight change of light from outside gives you the opportunity to see a shape or, maybe even a shadow, of something between her legs when she desperately pulls her own pants down and kicks them off from her ankles.

You feel it before you even get a chance to really see it. Cool and smooth with slight ridges that tease at your folds which are, without a doubt, slick from her hands and just honestly from her. As bold and brassy as Maya Mason was and known to be, you did not expect her to be packing out in public. Especially, with Sal and Matt by her side. Maybe they knew her better than you and the tabloids did but fuck, what did that matter now as your breath hitches in your throat. She was just inches away from filling you up with her cock.

She pushes you against the door and this time, fills you up with herself. You feel yourself stretch to take her cock; as much as your body allows and then some. The tip hits your cervix already and you moan in delight. You want more; you're begging for it and you very quickly realize, that's her favorite thing in the world.

To have someone beg for her.

She's rough and quick and fast. She's loud and messy and nothing comes out from her mouth but 'fuck' and 'shit' and 'jesus fucking christ'. You can barely keep your head on straight as your eyes slam shut and your head snaps forward and you focus on the relentless pounding of her cock up inside of you. You can feel the silicone warm and then become hot; your own wetness making it easier for her to fuck you. You're on the brink of orgasm; you can feel it. That hot pull in your lower abdomen; the pressure waiting to be released. Your little moans and whines and breaths hitch up in your throat and you can swear she's calling you a 'good girl' and a 'pretty fucking thing' and then...

It all comes crashing down around you.

You cum and she, pulls right out.

A wail escapes your lips as you bend forward; trying to catch yourself from your knees buckling. You can hear the smirk on her face that you can't see. It was really all some game. Just some quick fuck in her house up on some hill in Hollywood. You can sense she's trying not to laugh as you hear the shuffling of fabric as she scoops up her pants and pulls them back on. The zipper is deafening; like a gunshot ringing out.

"I'll call you a cab, Sweet Thing...you'll be home before the sun comes back up over those fucking hills. It was nice meeting you, by the way...maybe we'll run into one another again."

Your heart hammers away in your chest as you hear her footsteps and then the front door opening once again. She is literally standing there holding the door open for you to get your shit and get the fuck out.

[xoxo-sarah]

Visiting Home for the Holidays

↝a/n: for my people who don't celebrate Thanksgiving, you can interpret this as Steve meeting your parents for the first time. 🩷

↝pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

↝warning: Thanksgiving? Not proof read, rushed

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 11.27.24

Steve Harrington masterlist | main masterlist

Steve stood at the edge of the driveway, his heart pounding in his chest. He adjusted his brown sweater for what felt like the hundredth time. You had told him it looked good on him.

He glanced nervously at the front door. The memory of his disastrous first meeting with Nancy's parents played on a loop in his mind. He could still hear the awkward silences, feel the judgmental stares, and remember the feeling of not being good enough. He remembered passing by the house and feeling ashamed when he caught the eye of Mr. Wheeler as he mowed the lawn. Truthfully, Mr. Wheeler hadn't thought of Steve since that night. That didn't change the fact that it haunted Steve. The thought of repeating that experience made his palms sweat and his stomach churn.

"Steve, it's going to be okay," you said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "They're going to love you."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just... I don't want to mess this up." Last time, it was a disaster. He didn't dare say the last sentence. This is different. It's a different time with different people. He's changed. He's not King Steve. You're not her.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "You're amazing, and they're going to see that."

Steve nodded, taking comfort in your words. "Okay, let's do this." With one last deep breath, he followed you up the walkway, feeling a little more confident with each step.

Peering eyes watched through the window, in-between the curtains. Excited eyes softened and protective eyes glared, slightly wavering as you slightly smiled. You were happy.

As you knocked on the door, he glanced at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile. The door opened, and your parents greeted you both warmly. Steve felt the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he saw the welcoming expressions on their faces.

Dinner was a cozy affair, filled with laughter and stories. Steve found himself relaxing more and more as the evening went on. Your parents were kind and engaging, nothing like the cold reception he had feared. Every now and then, he'd catch your eye, and your encouraging smile would give him the boost he needed to keep going.

"Steve," your dad started, a hint of question as he said the name, not sure if that was right. He gave time for correction, but it never came so he continued, "Y/n tells us you work at a video store. How's that treating you?"

Steve started to feel that familiar anxiety creeping back. Then he felt your hand gently touch his under the table, grounding him.

He took a deep breath and began to talk, feeling more confident with each word. "It's fun; decent pay." He started, before going on about working with friends and his boss.

Your parents listened intently, nodding and smiling, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

By the end of the night, Steve was laughing and chatting comfortably with your parents, the initial nerves long forgotten. He realized that with you by his side, he could face anything.

As you said your goodbyes, your mother stopped you, bringing you into a hug. "He's a keeper," she whispered and grinned, pinching your cheek and your became embarrassed.

Your dad brought you closer to him, after shaking Steve's hand firmly. "Be careful on the roads. Holiday traffic is the worst."

Steve grabbed your hand and began walking back to the car, Steve turned to you, gratitude and affection shining in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I couldn't have done this without you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I knew you could do it. And now you know it too."

Steve smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the chill of the night air. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, with you by his side, he could handle them all.

After Steve opened your door, helping you get in without hitting your head, you turned back to the house as Steve rounded the car. Your parents stood on the edge of the porch, expressions soft. They waved, smiled gracing their face. Their little girl was with someone who seemed nice. He was respectful; he helped clean up and respected you and them. He listened when you talked, eyes scanning your face. A few times, they caught him smiling as he admired you. He even fixed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

They were willing to welcome him back anytime, as long as he made you happy.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[fawnwilde]

Meet Me in the Pale Moonlight ✮⋆˙

kieran duffy x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

Spirits are high once Jack is returned from Bronte's capture, and the gang indulges in some much needed celebration.

But you're not looking to party. You just want to spend some time with the guy who's caught your eye, Kieran "not an O'driscoll" Duffy...

content warning: f reader, smut MDNI, friends to lovers, esteem issues, gentle sex, piv sex, cunnilingus, lots of feelings and also cum, filthy dirty, kieran deserved the world and also some pussy <\3

word count: 4.7k

The Van Der Londe gang had been engulfed in chaos ever since little Jack had been taken.

Abigail has been hysterical, John seems to have had his paternal instincts awoken, enraged that his child has been stolen from him. Dutch has been on a warpath, the others following him in his endeavours to return the little one.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, a trusted member of the gang. A woman, but skilled with firearms and entrusted to keep the gang safe while the others search for the boy.

You spend your days protecting the others, and soothing your dear friend as she sobs for her son.

When Jack is finally brought home, the whole camp seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

You watched as Dutch rode in, followed by John and a thankfully right as rain Jack.

“I’m fine mama!” The little boy called as his father pulled him off the horse, babbling away about the food he ate.

He’s completely unaware and innocent to the reasons why he was gone, to the fear everyone felt.

The joy now that he’s home.

It brought a smile on everyone's faces when Abigail wrapped her boy in her arms, thanking the others profusely for bringing her son home.

Immediately spirits had been lifted, the gang had finally had a win after months of losing.

One could say it's certainly a call for celebration.

Underneath the stars, drinks are opened and music is played, every somber face now has a giddy, drunken smile on it.

The gang hasn't been this happy since Sean had been returned, god rest his soul.

You sit beside Arthur at the fire, pleasantly buzzing after a couple of beers, singing along with everyone else.

But your eyes keep straying across the clearing, where a certain man stands idly away from the group.

Kieran Duffy leans against a table, his own beer in between his fingers as he gently sways side to side to the tune of Javier’s guitar.

He hadn't joined the others around the campfire, which you understand. But it just makes you want to be over there with him instead.

Not that you didn't enjoy partaking in the parting, it's just that you would rather do… well, him.

You blush at the thought, clearing your throat as if everyone else could have possibly heard what's going on inside your head..

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You say to no-one in particular. Arthur smiles up at you, giving you a drunken salute.

As you walk away from the campfire, you’re almost drawn into a conversation with Hosea, a drinking game with Karen, and a dance with Uncle. All of which you politely refuse with promises of joining them later.

You’re a woman on a mission, making a beeline to the silly man of your dreams.

“Hey, Kieran.” You greet, causing the man to jump and turn to you, wide eyed.

He relaxes when he realises it's you, a blush on his cheeks as he gives you a smile, nervously gripping his beer in suddenly shaky hands.

“Evenin’, miss.”

“Why aren't you celebrating with everyone?” You ask, leaning on the table beside him, your elbow brushing with his.

Kieran stiffens but leans into you, his temple nearly touching yours with the close proximity. Far too close for two uninvolved people, but the drink has loosened both of your inhibitions.

“Ah, you know… thought I'd let you all have your celebration. No need for me to bother y’all.” He says softly, somberly even with a slight drunken lilt to his voice.

“You ain't bothering no-one.” You say, “Especially not me.”

Kieran ducks his head, but you can see a small smile on his face, and his cheeks not covered by his scruffy beard have gone red, visible even in the lowlight of the campfire.

You take a sip from your beer, admiring the scene of everyone else having fun.

It's nice to be a part of something so jovial, but you can't truly enjoy it if Kieran is left out.

“Come on.” You extend your hand, “It's too loud here, let's go for a walk.”

Kieran cheers up immediately, taking your hand. He follows you willingly, his fingers intertwined with yours as you pull him away from the noise, and around the Shady Belle house.

A little ways away from the camp, you find a nice enough clearing to spend time with Kieran.

The willow trees surround you both like a curtain of privacy,, but the moon shines through the partings of their branches. Long grass is underfoot, slightly damp with this morning's rain.

The noise of the party can still be heard, so you know you’re not too far.

But far enough that you can have some peace and quiet with the man who holds your heart, even though he doesn't know that yet.

The moon reflects off of the dew drops on the grass and you sway slightly, turning to Kieran to give him a smile, “Much better-”

You’re cut off by Kieran’s lips on yours.

A surprised noise escapes you, but you melt against him instantly. The kiss is hungry, desperate, lips moving and teeth clashing as Kieran puts all of his energy into it.

And you reciprocate it all, your fingers twisting into his blue shirt and pulling his body to you.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, tipsy and happy while you lock lips beneath the moon.

All too quickly, however, it stops. Kieran takes a step back, looking at you with wide eyes like he himself is shocked by what he just did.

It’s adorable.

He starts stuttering out apologises, clearly horrified at his actions.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.” Kieran whispers, looking away, “I just… really wanted to do that. B-but I shouldn't have just done that! Y-you can hit me now, if you want.”

You laugh, taking his face between your hands, soothing him and ceasing his anxious rambling.

“I ain't gonna hit you, silly. I might kiss you again, though.”

Kieran looks surprised, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at you with his jaw dropped, “...Huh?”

You chuckle, nudging your nose against his, “Would you like to kiss me again?”

“More than anything,” Kieran murmurs, “But… why do you want to kiss me?”

“Because I like you.”

“...Why?”

“Oh, Kieran.” You sigh, a smile remaining on your lips, though sadder now, “I wish you could see yourself how I see you.”

He just looks down at you, face held between your palms. His beard is coarse beneath your fingertips, his skin warm due to his flushed cheeks. He smells like cigarettes, beer and faintly of the distinctive smell of horse.

It's a scent that is so overtly Kieran, that you just want to bottle it up and keep it forever.

“How… Do you see me?” Kieran asks shyly as he looks away.

“Well for starters I think you are one of the kindest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.” You say earnestly.

Kieran chuckles, “I don't know about all that-”

“You’re polite with everyone here even when we don't deserve your niceties.” You continue, “The horses love you as much as you love them. You’re brave, though no-one else seems to see that. You’ve survived all the hardships life has thrown at you, and remained a good man through it all. You saved Arthur’s life, though you could have left him to the O’driscolls. You have the most beautiful eyes that I’ve ever seen-”

“Okay you can stop now.” Kieran laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling, “You’re… I… see, I’m not as good with my words as you are.”

You giggle, bumping his forehead with his, “Do you like me as much as I like you?”

“More.” Kieran breathes, “Ever since I first saw you, up in Colter… god, it’s like you put a spell on me. “

This surprised you. You remember the day he was brought into camp. You had been talking to Hosea and Dutch when Arthur returned with an O’driscoll in tow.

You stood beside your fearless leader as he gave the prisoner a speech that you only half listened to.

Once Dutch had finished his spiel, the man's eyes turned to you. The fear you saw in them made you sad, and guilty. He looked less like a big, scary O’driscoll and more like a frightened street dog.

So you offered him a small smile, watching as his eyes softened slightly, despite being pulled away aggressively by Bill Williamson and Uncle.

Little did you know that that small act of kindness on your end had altered the trajectory of both of your lives.

“Every day has been worth living through just to see you whenever you pass.” Kieran continues, looking almost close to tears.

You hold his face harder, kissing his cheek to comfort him.

He sighs, his voice shaking, “When you first spoke to me… I could barely string a sentence together.”

The memory makes you smile, remembering the day he had been let free to roam after saving Arthur’s life.

You had been the one to pass him a bowl of stew, much to the chagrin of Pearson.

When you passed Kieran the bowl, his fingers brushed yours, and he had flushed bright red and stuttered out words that broadly resembled a “thank you.”

Ever since that day you had made an effort to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You spoke to him daily, sat with him when he was alone at the night watch campfire. Your feelings had grown for him rapidly, almost blindsiding you when you woke up one day realising-

‘Oh god, I’m in love with Kieran Duffy’

It had only taken you until now to find the courage to do something. The moods are high and the celebrations offer you privacy.

God only knows when you’re going to get this opportunity again.

“I love you, Kieran.”

Kieran freezes, his eyes meeting yours. He blinks at you, like he’s trying to translate those words in his head.

“You… love me?” He whispers.

“Yep.” You smile, “I love you, Kieran Duffy.”

Like the spark of a match, Kieran’s face lights up immediately. He steps closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist, his lips finding yours and kissing you fervently.

You wrap your arms around neck, fingers carding through the long hairs at the back of his neck.

“Wait.” He stops, stepping back and taking your hands in his own, his face earnest as he takes a deep breath, “I love you too, Y/N.”

“I gathered that.” You laugh.

Kieran beams further, stepping in your space again to resume kissing you.

The kiss grows hungry, neither of you willing to hide your mutual desire. Lips slide against the other, soft sighs and appreciative moans filling the air.

You bite his lower lip, earning a surprised yelp from him, before he opens his mouth, surrendering to your wandering tongue. As you explore, a wanton moan escapes Kieran, making you sigh with need.

Slipping your hands from his neck down to his hips, to push him gently. Kieran gets the message, sitting down on the grass, while you kneel with him.

Your knees bracket his thighs, not quite touching for fear of overwhelming your lover.

Kieran is needy though, and he grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against him so he can resume kissing you.

He’s eager, his tongue slipping into your own mouth now. It's messy and passionate, months of longing coming to an explosive end.

“God.. what are you doing to me?” Kieran sighs against your lips, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, his hands kneading at your waist like a cat.

“I plan on doing a lot more to you, Mr Duffy.” You rasp, biting his lip and kissing along his jaw.

Kieran sighs contentedly, leaning back on his hands to extend his neck for you. You pepper kisses along the edge of his beard, following the lines of his throat.

A kiss to his pulse point makes Kieran shudder, a purr-like groan escaping him.

Your hands wander his torso as you kiss his neck and collar bones.

“Can I take your shirt off, Kieran?”

“Mhm, yes, please…” He whispers, practically shaking with anticipation.

His eagerness makes you even more desperate for him, your fingers working quickly to pull his blue shirt off his shoulders before working on his undershirt.

It's slipped off in record time, joining his shirt on the ground. You look over his torso admiringly.

He’s skinny, pale skin stretched across gentle curves of muscle from working tirelessly around camp. Dark hair dusts across his pectorals, a lone following his stomach and disappearing into his trousers.

Kieran holds his breath as you look him over, squirming slightly as he starts to feel self conscious. From his furrowed brow and slight frown, you can tell he’s worried you find him unattractive.

And that just won't do.

You lean forward to kiss his chest, right above his thudding heart. Kieran gasps at the feeling, settling back onto his hands again.

You trail kisses over his chest, going as far as to kiss one of his nipples. Kieran whimpers, before pressing his lips together to stop anymore of those embarrassing sounds.

“Nuh uh.” You chastise, “Don't hold back on me now, Duffy. I've waited too damn long to hear those noises for you to go quiet on me.”

Kieran blushes even brighter, but a tiny smile crosses his face.

You resume your worship of his chest, kissing down and following the line of hair down his sternum. Kieran writhes, fingers digging into the ground as he experiences sensations alien to him prior to this night.

You kiss the spot just above his belly button, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Kieran looks ready to spontaneously combust.

His hands find your shoulders, travelling down your arms and then grasping onto your waist, tugging at the material.

“Wanna see you.” Kieran whines, pulling at your dress with shaking hands, “Take this off, please.”

“Behave.” You chastise half-heartedly, hands already going to the ties at the back of your dress.

Once undone, you let the garment fall to your waist. Your chemise is old and practically see through, your breasts and hardened nipples on display for Kieran to admire.

He gasps when he sees them. You blush, fiddling with his belt absentmindedly. But your attention is distracted when Kieran raises his hands, hesitating and looking at you.

“Can I…?” He asks, always polite as he hovers his shaking hands over your boobs.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment seems to make your poor man flush even redder, his head ducking slightly before he regains some semblance of confidence. His hands reach out, gently grasping at your breasts.

You bite your lip, letting him fondle them with an awed expression. Kieran’s fingers smooth over the material of your chemise, rubbing over your heated skin and perked nipples.

“Never seen a pair of tits before?” You tease.

Kieran frowns, defensive, “I've had other things to do, you know…”

“I'm sorry baby.” You giggle, arching to press your breasts harder into his hands, “If it makes you feel better, you’ll have access to these ones as much as you like, for as long as you like.”

Kieran’s brain seems to go blank at this, his lips parted as he stares at your breasts like they’re simply the most amazing things he’s ever been in the presence of.

He looks up at you, wistful, “Really?”

“Yes, my darling.” You purr, “All of me is yours now.”

Kieran moans at that, leaning forward to press his face against your chest, taking shuddering breaths like he’s trying to control himself.

The man seems damn near close to finishing with every sentence you say.

It’s about time you get to the main event. There will be time for taking things slow later.

You twist your fingers in his hair, bringing his face up so you can kiss him again. While you do that, you undo his belt.

Kieran shudders, melting against you as you kiss him and begin to remove the last items of clothing he wears.

Once his belt is undone, you pull away from his lips. He tries to seek you out again, frowning before his attention is diverted to you tugging down his trousers.

You tug them down to his thighs, pulling off his shoes and socks as well, before removing the rest of his clothes.

A prominent bulge tents his undergarments, and you swiftly tug those down too, exposing his cock.

Your eyebrows raise, surprised to see he’s a little bigger than what you had originally seen while he was tied to the tree.

When Dutch pulled his trousers down and threatened to held him, he had been quite small.

But now he’s a decent size, not too big too hurt but definitely big enough to bring you pleasure. Flushed and weeping, and hard enough to damage steel.

“It does that.” Kieran says softly, causing you to look up at him, “Uh, you know, gets bigger when I’m enjoyin’ myself.”

“Well ain't I lucky?” You grin, and Kieran beams up at you.

You reach down, grabbing the bottom of your chemise to pull it over your head. Kieran's eyes fixate on your breasts. You shuffle slightly to tug your bloomers down as well, throwing it to the pile of yours and Kieran’s clothes.

Kieran rests his hands on your hips; fingers flexing as he lies down fully. He looks up at you with wide and eager eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You settle down against his thighs, his cock trapped between your bodies as you lean down to kiss him leisurely.

“You ready, darling?” You ask against his lips.

“Please, sweetheart. Need ya.” Kieran murmurs, pupils large and eyelids half closed as he looks over your face.

You reach down, finding his hard cock. Kieran inhales sharply at the feeling, a shuddered moan escaping you when he feels your heat brush against his weeping tip.

It takes one slow descent for your cunt to swallow him up, both of your hips meeting.

You release a satisfied groan at the fullness, closing your eyes for a moment to savour the feeling of Kieran filling you.

His cock throbs inside you, and you open your eyes to find Kieran watching you, his jaw slack and a dazed look in his blue eyes.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, “God- h-how are you so perfect…”

“My love…” You sigh, grinding on his lap to provide you both with the friction you desperately need

Kieran shudders and groans, hips bucking slightly.

“Ready?” You ask him again, needing to know he’s okay, seeing as he looks like he’s close to passing out from the pleasure.

“Mhm.” He whines out.

You rise, letting only the tip of him remain before sliding back down.

Before long, you’ve found a rhythm, riding Kieran slowly to get both of you used to the feeling. With every rise and fall, Kieran gasps and moans whorishly, his neck arched back and eyes fluttered closed.

The sight is vulgar, watching the man you’ve grown to love succumb to the pleasure you can provide.

You ride him faster, harder, seeking out the whines Kieran begins to make. His fingers grip on to your hips, short fingernails making crescent shaped marks in your plush flesh.

A sharp thrust downwards makes Kieran gasp out, chest rising and falling rapidly, squirming below you as you begin to ride him vigorously..

“Hngh, fuck, feels so go-od!” Kieran whines, hips bucking up, “Don’t stop- oh fuck-!”

You moan, bouncing harder on his cock as he meets your thrusts.

His cock begins pulsing inside you, a fluttering heartbeat, and Kieran begins shaking. His moans increase in volume, his eyes rolling back.

You feel your own orgasm growing, riding him rapidly as you seek your release.

But a choked out curse from Kieran makes you realise this isn't going to last long enough.

“Wa-it, shit- I-I’m gonna-” He warns.

You gasp when Kieran moans and thrusts up, hips flush against yours as his face contorts. Warmth floods your insides as he cums inside you.

Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

A small smile curves on your face, finding his cute face endearing as he murmurs out incoherent praises as his cock throbs.

His orgasm seems to last ages, his cock pumping for a few moments until Kieran’s cum leaks out of you. You rub your hands over his chest, comforting as he shakes and moans softly.

It takes a while for him to come back to himself.

Suddenly, Kieran’s eyes open and his face falls, looking up at you with a suddenly mortified expression, blue eyes hazy.

“Oh- I-I’m so sorry, you didn’t…” He sighs, looking away and to the side, “I’m so sorry-”

“Don't be.” You comfort him, bringing your hands from his chest to his face, leaning forward to kiss his cheek gently, “I'm glad I could make you feel so good.”

“You did.” Kieran nods enthusiastically, nuzzling against you, “I've never felt so damn good…”

Kissing along his cheeks, you rise, feeling his softening cock slip out of you.

Kieran whimpers as the cold air hits him, and both of your eyes widen when you see the copious amounts of cum that leaks from you. It floods down your thighs and over his spent cock, making quite a mess on both of you.

“Damn. You were pent up.” You chuckle, running your hands over his chest.

Kieran stares at the mess, before looking up at you with a shy yet eager expression, “C-can I…?”

“What, baby?”

“Can I clean y-you up?”

You nod, though confused, “If you want to.”

Kieran begins moving, and you collapse back against the grass with your eyes closed. It's a shame you didn't finish, but after seeing Kieran in such a state of euphoria, you couldn't really complain.

You hear Kieran shuffling around, and you let your legs fall open so he can clean you up.

“You can use my chemise to clean- oh!”

You gasp and your eyes open when you feel Kieran lick along your thigh.

He looks up at you, eyes wide and puppy-like as he begins licking your cum stained thighs.

“I didn't- I didn't know this is what you meant.” You murmur, enamoured by the sight of him between your legs.

“I’m sorry, should I stop?” Kieran asks, worried, “I heard how it feels good when guys use their mouths on their ladies, I thought-”

“Please don't stop, baby.” You urge him, spreading your legs further to encourage him.

He smiles, lying on his belly as he wraps his arms around your thighs, returning to his task.

Running his tongue over your inner thighs, Kieran licks up his spend passionately. He cleans your skin and leaves kisses in his wake, before dragging his tongue up to your cunt.

He looks up at you for permission, and you nod quickly, taking shuddering breaths.

Kieran dives in, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on it fervently.

You devolve into moans, back arching as he begins eating you out messily and uncoordinated, fueled by pure desire and the need to make you feel good.

And it sure does make you feel good.

Sparks of pleasure coarse through you as Kieran fucks his tongue into you, drinking up his own release and moaning when he tastes you as well.

Because of how close to were before, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you quickly.

Kieran whines against your cunt, mouthing away at it as his eyes watch your face. The way he moans against you, you would think he was the one being pleasured.

You can feel your body being pushed forwards and backwards against the grass, and you look down to see Kieran pathetically rutting against the ground, trying to get some stimulation as he presses his face against your intimacy.

It has you cumming, and Kieran drinks up your release with an appreciative whine, eating you up eagerly until you’re worried you’ll be licked dry.

It feels too good to care, though.

He keeps eating you, and you wonder if he would be happy just lying her on his belly mouthing at you until the end of time.

But you want him inside you again.

“C-come up here baby.” You say, pulling him away from between your legs.

Kieran scrambles up, pressing his whole body against you as he urgently kisses you again, sloppy and desperate. You can taste yourself on his lips, and his scruffy beard is wet with your release.

He thrusts against your hip, blind to where his target is as he focuses on kissing you. You laugh against his lips, drawing your knees up to try to help him find your entrance.

Kieran refuses to separate his skin from yours for even a second, nudging at your cheek as he rubs his cock against your thigh.

“Can you put me in, please?” He asks, sweet voice raspy and shaking.

You reach down, finding his member and directing it against your entrance, and Kieran bucks the tip in. Without wasting a beat, he pushes forward.

“Ohh… yes…” Kieran breathes out, hands fisting into the grass as he pulls out and pushes back in fast, forcing a moan out your throat.

He smiles at the noise, repeating the action over and over again to keep extracting noise from you,

“You sound so pretty.” Kieran murmurs, awed as he watches your face.

You moan out, locking your thighs against his waist to encourage him, and Kieran gets the hint. He increases his thrusts, fucking into you wildly as he watched your face.

His eyebrows are furrowed, mouth open as he takes sharp breaths, eyes trained on your own blissed out expression.

“Does- does that feel good?” He breathes out, keeping the fast pace of his hips.

“Yes!” You call out, feeling him hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars, “Don’t stop Kieran! Feels so good!”

Reaching down, you play with your clit, tightening around the man inside you.

Kieran moans, throwing his head back as he fucks you faster and harder, “S-say my name again… please, say my name-”

“Kieran! Oh god, Kieran!” You cry out, shaking as your orgasm crashes over you.

You shudder and shake, wrapping your arms around Kieran’s neck as he moans and his thrusts turn sloppy.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” You breathe, “Cum inside me Kieran, fill me up, show me how much you love me.”

“I love you! I love you so mu-ch! Oh yes, oh-” Kieran cries out, collapsing against you as he cums inside you for the second time. His skin is sweaty as you wrap your arms around his back, soothing him as he weakly thrusts a few more times to prolong the feeling.

After a moment, he moves to lie down beside you,kissing your shoulder as he murmurs out praises, telling you how much he loves you.

You look up at the moon, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I love you too, Kieran Duffy.”

Kieran rests his head on your chest, holding you close as you stroke his hair. Your sweaty bodies are pressed against one another, uncaring of your nakedness as you bask in the afterglow.

A twig snaps in the distance, and an owl hoots.

You’re suddenly on edge, a flash of concern going through you as you turn to look at the trees.

A flash of movement makes you furrow your brows, urging kieran up. He gets up sleepily, a dopey smile on his face as you dress the both of you and take his hand.

The camp had gone quiet as you return, and you make your way to your tent without issue.

Kieran falls asleep immediately, but you stand at the doorway, trying to see what was lingering in the swamps.

A shadow moves.

The moonlight reflects green.

In the early hours of the morning, you lie beside Kieran. You kept awake as he slept soundly cuddled up to you, your pistol in your hand.

You could have sworn an o'driscoll was hiding in the woods, hunting your man. And that just won't do.

Ain’t nobody gonna take him from you now that you have him.

AN/ saving kieran by giving him some pussy (doing what rockstar couldnt) this was filthy! i meant to post this a couple of days ago, but i wasn't happy with it and changed it lol xx

@spimderman & @gotthecosmonaut for my kieran lovers <3

[moonchildstyles]

Do you think you could write a blurb where witch! Harry is finally comfortable w Mitch and his friends so one night when they’re all out together Including Sarah and y/n, Harry doesn’t really pay as much attention to y/n as he usually does, and y/n becomes more clingy than usual and it makes Harry happy 🥺🥺

this is a little different than the exact request but I hope you enjoy!! thank you for sending this in:)

wordcount: 4k+

—————

Fiddling with his fingers in his lap, Harry watched as (Y/N) readied herself at her vanity. He wanted to be distracted by the sweeps of cosmetics across her skin or the flutter of her lashes as she dusted sparkles over her eyes, but he knew it was a losing battle. He'd already spent all of his distractions when he conjured up his outfit and fussed over his own hair in the mirror. His nervous hands had prepped him too early, leaving him with way more time available than he needed. 

"You know," (Y/N) started, catching his gaze in the reflection, "we don't have to go tonight if you don't want to. We can stay here and relax or go back to yours and cuddle with the girls. I don't mind." 

There was a split second where he considered her offer, folding his bottom lip between his teeth before he thought better of his indecision. (Y/N) had agreed to these plans earlier in the week and was almost done with her makeup already, there was no way he was going to let her cancel on his account. 

"No, I want to go," he insisted, matching her gaze though he figured he looked about as convincing as he felt, "I know I'll have fun, 's jus'... You know." 

A gentle smile touched the corners of his lover's lips. "I know," she assured, "We'll have fun once we get out there. This is the hard part." 

He gave a quiet nod in agreement. It was easier to stay home with her and luxuriate in the familiar, but he was trying to grow himself into a member of the world once more. Besides, Sarah's boyfriend, Mitch, was supposed to be there tonight with a couple of the others he'd met a few months back. As long as he found his space in that group again, he'd be able to make it through. 

Worst case scenario, he'd cling to (Y/N), say the word, and they'd be on their way home before he had a chance to crawl out of his skin. 

This was going to be good for him, he reminded himself as he continued watching (Y/N) through the mirror. 

He was going to have fun tonight. Probably.

—————

With his fingers laced between hers, Harry followed (Y/N) into the restaurant. The plan tonight was to go to dinner before heading to some of the bars downtown as some kind of informal celebration for Sarah's upcoming birthday. (Y/N) had gently let Sarah and Mitch know to go ahead without her and Harry (it was a small ruse to allow her some extra time to get ready and Harry an extra moment in the quiet apartment before braving the world), leaving them to be one of the last to arrive. 

The restaurant was loud and crowded, tables packed with chairs and bubbly patrons. The bar was busy, both servers and guests seated on the stools keeping the bartenders busy with plenty of orders. Fresh pizzas were being fired in the brick oven that worked as the centerpiece of the establishment, though there were plenty of spicy, greasy bar staples flooding out of the kitchen. 

As much as Harry worried over these kinds of outings, still on unsure footing when it came to the world outside of his bubble, the energy of this place fed him. Though it was a different kind of feeling compared to the hazy parties of the seventies that he was so ingrained in, this wasn't that far off from what he had been so accustomed to in the past (there were decidedly less drugs here, and more decency but that's besides the point). He could feel eyes trailing after him when he walked past, his stride bringing attention to the glimmering threads of his clothing and the woman on his arm. 

"Hey, guys!" (Y/N) greeted as they approached the table in the back the hostess had directed them to. On either side of the long table, faces turned to the sound of (Y/N)'s voice. Harry recognized the majority of them, though there were a few unfamiliar faces that he was both eager and nervous to meet. 

"You made it!" Sarah cheered, Mitch at her side with his own usually stoic features shifting into a smile when he caught Harry's eye. 

"Yeah, sorry," (Y/N) started, leading Harry down to the two free spots at the end of the bench seating, across from Mitch and Sarah and next to a familiar head of bleached hair he'd met at the concert night a few months ago. "The Uber took the weirdest way, and then hit traffic. I don't know what he was trying to do." 

Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes as if this was a story she'd lived through just as many times herself. 

(Y/N) took the spot next to the semi-unfamiliar couple, leaving Harry on the very end of the bench without any extra neighbors. She and Sarah took up another avenue of conversation, others beginning to jump in now that the party could truly start with all guests in attendance. He held her hand tight in his lap, his attention drifting this way and that as more and more color and noise and new caught his eye. 

"Have you ever been here before, Harry?" Mitch asked from across the table, centering his wandering attention. 

"No, this is m'first time," Harry offered, a small smile on his lips. He felt a bit better knowing that Mitch was here—next to (Y/N), he was one of the only people he felt comfortable with. 

"Really?" Mitch sounded, his brows rising, "Don't you work around here, now? At that one music store?" 

Harry eagerly nodded to the question. He loved talking about his job—he loved spending so much time around music and the extra money that came with it was very exciting.

"I do, yeah," he smiled, "Have y'ever been there before? You'd love it." 

Mitch matched Harry's smile with his own grin, taking a sip from his drink with a slow shake of his head. "I haven't, but I might have to come see you sometime. Friends and family discount, right?"

Letting out a laugh, Harry nodded his head. He really hoped Mitch meant it when he said he'd come visit—he wasn't sure how to add discounts yet to the register, but he'd make sure his friend got whatever he wanted when he came by. 

As Mitch started on a new avenue of conversation, Harry relaxed further the longer the night went on, feeling less and less of the anxiety that he left the house with. He felt thoroughly distracted—comfortable, even, when the semi-familiar man (Kid, he thinks was their nickname) on (Y/N)'s other side piped into his and Mitch's conversation. The edge he had been standing on slowly dulled until he was laughing loudly and settling into his skin the way he used to back in the day. 

Once ordered, drinks and dinner were delivered to the table. Honestly, Harry almost wanted to speed through his meal knowing that the rest of the plans for the night were to head to a bar down the plaza, leaving more room to hang out with his friends. He was having too much fun to waste time like this. Under the table, (Y/N)'s hand was settled on his thigh, turning palm up once he attempted to wiggle his fingers between hers. 

Looking up at her, his hand loaded with a slice of plain cheese pizza, he saw her looking at him with a raised brow. 

"Feeling better?" she murmured to him, the others around them distracted by their own food to listen in. 

A small smile was on Harry's lips as he nodded his head. "Yeah, a lot. I forget how nice everyone is." 

"And, how much they like you," (Y/N) added, "I'm happy you're feeling better, though. Do you still want to go to the bars with everyone after?" His eager nod had to be enough of an answer with the way she let out a huff of laughter, her hand squeezing his under the table. "Okay," she smiled, "Just wanted to double check." 

Tipping her chin, (Y/N) puckered her lips just enough to draw him in for a short kiss. Harry felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, even if the contact was nothing more than a small peck on his mouth. The vine tethering the chambers of his heart to hers pulsed, urging him to stay close to her. 

"Thank you," he murmured, blinking up at her through the fan of his lashes. 

"For what?" she asked, nudging him, their private moment drawing on long enough to catch the attention of Sarah across the table. Her eyes softened as she glanced at them.

"Taking me tonight," he answered, keeping his voice low. If Sarah could watch, he just hoped she couldn't hear every word. "I know 'm a lot sometimes—thank you for still wanting to bring me even if I wasn't sure." 

She tipped her head, eyes fond and tender to match the smile on her lips. "Of course, H. You don't really have much of a choice, though—you're my soulmate, you pretty much have to come with me."

He knew she was trying to joke with him, get him to laugh the same way she realized her own plume of laughter, but he liked hearing her call him her soulmate to do anything more than surge forward for another kiss. 

————— 

(Y/N) with Sarah and some of the other women at her side, didn't take much time before getting their first round of drinks to indulge in the dance floor of the bar, cheering in celebration of Sarah's birthday. Harry, along with Mitch and the rest of the few that didn't want to brave the sweaty congregation all hung back, drinks in hand with a table luckily claimed along the back of the bar. 

More often than not, he had his eyes on (Y/N), watching her like she was a bubble of sunshine in the middle of the dance floor. He could hear her laughter, see her dancing with her friends, and practically feel the beam of her happiness even sitting so far off. Mitch was much like him, watching his own girlfriend as she celebrated her birthday, a fond smile on his lips. 

The third time Harry caught him gazing with hearts in his eyes towards Sarah and the bobbing ponytail on her head, he asked, "How long have y'and Sarah been together?" 

Mitch blinked his eyes away from the dance floor, Kid at his side jostling him as he laughed with his own companion. "Hm?" Mitch hummed, taking a sip from his beer as he plugged into the moment once more. 

Harry knew the feeling well: what it was like to forget the rest of the details around him when he had his eyes on his sunshine. Chin in his palm with his elbow resting on the table, Harry let a small smile sit on his lips. "I asked how long you and Sarah have been together." 

"Oh, sorry," Mitch offered, sheepishly clearing his throat, "We've been together for a little over three years, now." 

"Wow," Harry awed, the romantic inside him sinking at the thought of having that much time with (Y/N) at his side. "How did y'meet?" 

Only having time to open his mouth to take in a breath before his story, Mitch was cut off when Kid butted in. His eyes were a bit glassy thanks to the alcohol in his system, but his words were clear when he interjected: "I set them up!" 

Kid's partner—Jenny—laughed at his insistence, especially when Mitch rolled his eyes though he couldn't completely stave off the amusement on his features. 

"Barely," Mitch countered, voice a petulant mumble when he looked back at Harry, "He just happened to know the both of us, but he didn't set us up." 

"Was I not the one that invited both of you to my birthday party?" 

Harry sat back, drink in hand, as he watched the light-hearted argument. It felt nice to be sitting among friends for the first time in decades, learning tidbits about their lives and finding where he fit in within the dynamic. (Y/N) was his heart and soul, everything that made his existence feel purposeful, but this was a facet of his life he hadn't realized he was craving so badly until it was offered to him. 

"Harry, don't you think that qualifies as a set up?" 

Perking up at the sound of his name, he plugged into the conversation once more, only to have three pairs of eyes waiting on him. Both Jenny and Mitch held amusement in their gazes though Kid seemed terribly serious with his request for backup.

Unable to help himself, Harry had to prod. 

"Well," he started, breathing in a sigh as he laid his forearms out on the table, "How long after your birthday did they go on a real date?" 

It was the chatter that started almost immediately after he finished speaking that had Harry smiling into the rim of his own cup, pretending to sip as he took it all in. 

—————

With sweat sticking her baby hairs to her temples and slicking down her back, (Y/N) practically stumbled after Sarah as they drifted from the dance floor. The few others that had paraded out there with them stayed behind for the rest of the song, while Sarah had insisted that she needed another drink before she could dance any longer. Sweaty hands pressed palm to palm, (Y/N) followed her out in the semi-fresh air of the rest of the bar now that they weren't tucked between the rest of the patrons on the dance floor. It was suddenly sobering to be out of the crowd, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling the effects of the cocktail from dinner and the celebratory shots they took once stepping into the bar. 

With Sarah leading her to the bar, (Y/N) traced her eyes through the space, knowing Harry was around somewhere but she was a touch too intoxicated to rely on the tether between them. She found him, a bright sunshiney yellow spot, tucked at the end of the booth next to Mitch with Jenny and Kid laughing along to whatever it was that Harry was saying. It was silly to her, as she took in the moment, just how nervous he had been before leaving, worrying over not fitting in, doing nothing but clinging to her side, not having fun, to now being the center of attention. It was just as she figured it would be—no one was immune to his presence. 

Tugging her forward, (Y/N) went along with Sarah to the bar until they had fought through the two-deep crowd to the counter. Sarah didn't need to ask what she wanted, instead slurring out an order of two fruity cocktails with a drunken declaration that it was her birthday. Over her shoulder, (Y/N) could see the bartender laughing at Sarah's excitement, though that information would surely garner them a discount anyway. 

Once their drinks were in hand, Sarah didn't waste time before putting the straw between her lips and gulping down the drink. "Let's go say hi, then we'll go back!" she shouted over the music after taking down the mouthful of juice and vodka, gesturing towards their claimed table with the rest of their party. 

Nodding with her own straw between her lips, (Y/N) was more than happy to take a break and see her soulmate before heading back into the sweaty throng of people. 

It took a bit of maneuvering, but making it to the table was quick enough and well worth the small spill she made on her shoes when she saw Harry's face light up when he caught sight of her. Whatever story he had been in the middle was put on pause when the pair of them made it to the table, Harry opening his arms for her to fall into. Mitch as well looked amused to see his mumbling girlfriend, a familiar glimmer in his eyes when he took her in. 

"Hi, you," Harry murmured, taking a hold of (Y/N)'s drink and setting it on the stable table. "How are y'feeling, sunshine?" 

"I'm good," she smiled, languidly draping her arms over his shoulders as she fought the urge to climb on his lap instead, "Kind of drunk, I think, though. Are you having fun?" 

Dimples deep in his cheeks, dots of glitter shimmering on his cheekbones, he looked to her with tenderness coating his gaze. "'M having a lot of fun, sunshine. Are you?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, unable to hold back from pressing a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth, "But I feel like I've barely seen you tonight. You said you were gonna come dance with me." 

"Sorry, love," he crooned, smiling despite the pout on her own lips, "Jus' got a little distracted, but you know 'm right here if y'need me." 

"Yeah," she sighed, drooping like some long-suffering spouse, "But, I've missed my soulmate—I know you're right here, but it's not the same. You're too busy with your friends." 

Her petulance only pulled a plume of laughter from him, even if there was something decidedly softer than before in his eyes. "You're still m'best friend, love, you know that. Jus' wanted to let y'have your fun, then I was going to bother y'the rest of the night." 

"You never bother me," she countered, canting her head.

It was Harry's turn to tip his chin and press a kiss to her lips, though this contact was much more coordinated than her previous attempt. (Y/N) sunk into the contact, allowing Harry to hold her steady just before there was a call of her name from Sarah. 

"Hm?" she asked, pulling away from Harry with her lipgloss surely missing from her mouth though it now sparkled on Harry's. 

"We need to go back," she bubbled, taking her half-finished drink with Mitch looking on with a poorly hidden smile. "Listen to the song! We need to go out there!" 

Tuning into the moment once more, (Y/N) took note of the bright notes filtering through the bar. It took only a quick look over her shoulder to see the familiar bobbing heads of the friends they had left behind to get their drinks, one of the girls catching sight of Sarah and beckoning them back to the floor. 

"Go have fun, sunshine," Harry murmured, giving her a pat on the small of her back as if to send her off. 

That seemed to be all the encouragement needed for Sarah to grab a hold of (Y/N)'s hand and take her back towards the floor. Drink in hand, (Y/N) made a point to look back to Harry and give him a small wave goodbye for the moment. His smile only widened when she did. 

—————

"I love you." 

Despite the sweet declaration, Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. He tightened his grip on (Y/N) as she draped herself over him in the backseat of their Uber (a concept he thoroughly struggled with until Mitch helped him both understand it as well as order one). 

"I love you too, sunshine," Harry murmured back for the third time in the span of five minutes. 

"Nooo," she moaned, curling into him as if she weren't practically on his lap already, "You don't get it, H. I love you—like, love you." 

His heart warmed even when she slurred over her words, the night dancing and drinking catching up to her finally. He wondered what their driver thought, listening into this drunken conversation. 

"I love love you, too, (Y/N). I—" 

"Why would you say that to me?" she cried, cutting him off drawing away from him with offense written all over her features. 

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Harry caught their driver attempting to hold back her smile before focusing back on the road before her. As a quiet favor, she turned up the radio just a hair more, an offer of privacy. 

"Why would I say what?" Harry crooned, unsure of how his love for her could cause her to feel so upset. 

"You called me by my name. Why would you do that? You never call me by my name, are you mad at me?" 

It took all he had in him to keep from laughing at her distress. He hadn't meant to upset her, he had hoped by saying her name she would see he was just as serious as she was. His arm looped around her middle kept her steady at his side. 

"Of course, 'm not mad at you, love," he cooed, erring on the side of caution with his voice terribly gentle, "Jus' wasn't thinking, I guess. I love love you, sunshine." 

His amendment seemed to be just enough to placate (Y/N) once more, drawing him into her with a blissed smile. 

"I love you more than anything, honey," she told him once more, back on track with her declarations, "I don't tell you enough, but I do. You're my favorite person in the whole world, and it's crazy that we could've never met if you didn't decide to live up in the mountain and do all your witchy stuff and—" 

"Oh, love," Harry cut her off before she could say much more about whatever witchy stuff he's got up to. Even with that, hearing her say she loves him more than anything in the world was enough to have his skin pinkening and warming. "You're my favorite person, you know that. Love you, so much." 

Before (Y/N) could try to argue anymore, declare her love for him to be the biggest (which was not true, because he loved her more), the car came to a stop at (Y/N)'s apartment building. 

"Here you are," their driver declared, peeking through the rearview mirror.

"Thank you," Harry smiled, the curl widening when (Y/N) seconded him with a bright chirping Mhm! 

"You're welcome," their driver smiled, "Have a nice rest of your night, you two." 

"We will!" (Y/N) brightly answered, struggling to get her seatbelt off. 

After helping her out, Harry collected (Y/N) in his arms and kept her steady when she stepped out on the sidewalk. She gave a final wave to their driver before clinging to Harry as he led her towards the building. 

"I had so much fun tonight, Harry," (Y/N) drawled, hanging off of him as he entered all the codes to get inside the building, her eyes warming the line of his profile. "Thank you for coming with me and taking care of me." 

"Thank you for bringing me with you," he said, parroting the sentiment from dinner. 

As he listened into her babblings as he took her up to her apartment, Harry felt his heart bloom like the petals in his garden. He'd had a perfect night, truthfully. While these were still people he had met through (Y/N), it didn't feel like he had spent the night with people putting up with him because of who his soulmate was. He felt like he had spent the night with his own friends, the kind that would have been a part of his hazy memories from the seventies, full of laughter and silly conversation. 

All for him to end the night with the love of his life. 

"I had a lot of fun tonight too, sunshine," he crooned to her, getting her safe inside the apartment once more. "I love you." 

"But, Harry, you don't get it." 

He could only laugh as he led her to her bedroom. He knew she would be arguing with him over the rest of the night.

Harry couldn't be happier.

—————

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas of your own please send them in!!

[mockerycrow]

Congrats on 4k! Saw the post I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic? So with Dad!John Price + teen!reader with the prompt “I just wanted to be like you” with reader tell price that they’re thinking about join the military and with price being like “absolutely NOT.”

Take your time if needed!

-🫠

DIFFERENT PATH (Dad!Price x Teen!GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Dark thoughts, angst, price is a good dad but he needs to control his tempter, you butt heads and you’re both stubborn asses.]

YOU HAVE BEEN uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table, John notes in his head. You’re a bit closed in on yourself as you actually eat your food instead of talk your head off like usual. He notes the way you keep your eyes lowered, your shoulders hunched; alarm bells are going off in his head because he isn’t sure if something happened, because you aren’t telling him anything.

You have been like this since school—you’re usually eager to hang around John since he’s usually away off somewhere in a different country, leaving you with a family friend for a couple of weeks or months at a time. This time? You came home, gave John a quick hug, a quiet “hi”, and you were in your room until he called you for dinner. He did not bother you once you shut your door—if you need space, he wasn’t going to deprive you of that. John knows he needed his space after coming home from school when he was younger.

“So,” John hums, a green bean in his mouth. He quickly chews, swallows, and takes a sip of his ice water before continuing. “How was school?” There’s a moment where your eyes actually flicker to him for the first time all night before they flicker back down to your plate, moving your food around with a fork; you shrug. John let’s out a sigh and tilts his head. “Words, kiddo.”

“It was fine.” You respond, your tone neutral. John notices the way you aren’t eating much, every few minutes is a few bites. You’re either scarfing it down, or you don’t eat it at all because you can’t stop talking. “Fine?” He questions, wiping his mouth with his napkin. You nod in response, knowing he’s trying to pry more information out of you. “Can I go to my room?” You ask, your jaw tight.

John pauses for a moment, a knot in his stomach forming. “Yes, you can.” He responds after hesitating for a few seconds. A heavy sigh leaves him as he watches you spring into action, grabbing your plate and bringing it to the kitchen before jogging up the stairs to where your room is. John knew this would eventually happen, something running across in his path of parenting where you wouldn’t want to tell him about something.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve taped your mouth shut about something, but as you’ve grown to be more independent—you’ve been very independent as he’s been away a lot—he fears the worst. John just hopes you would trust him enough to tell him about something bad happening; even if you were involved and there was drugs or something else, he wants you to trust him. John wants you to know that no matter what, he would love you. Nothing would change that.

“Goddammit.” John mutters, cleaning up the table, grabbing his now empty plate and dirty dishes. He brings them to the kitchen and washes off his plate before sticking it in the dish washer with the utensils, spotting your barely touched food. John puts his hands on the counter and leans against them, slipping back into thought once more. Maybe it was time to talk to you about how he would still love you, even if you were involved in some bad shit? Is that the correct move?

John hates it—being on his own as a father. Your mother has never really been in the picture and you’ve luckily never taken an interest in knowing her, so he’s ruled the possibility of your mother coming back into contact. John doesn’t want to think about the other possibilities; the other stuff that could suggest a reason for this clammy reaction.

No, he decides, if you need something, you will come to him unless he deems it necessary to properly intervene. John puts plastic wrap over your plate and puts it on a shelf in the fridge before he retreats to his office. He keeps his door cracked for you in case you decide to change your mind—he knows something is up—and he grabs a book, sitting down in his office chair. John blinks at the book in his hands before flipping open to where he left his bookmark.

You come downstairs an hour or two after dinner was served. John was only half processing his book, rereading the same sentence at least four different times when you knock on the cracked door. John blinks and looks up from his book, quickly putting the bookmark between the pages and shutting the cover. “Come in.”You open the door with a nervous look, your hands fidgeting. The cat quickly runs into the office with a soft “mrr” as you walk closer to his desk. John holds his breath for a moment as you approach. “What’s goin’ on, kiddo?” John asks softly.

You sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk with your hands in your lap. You glance at his face a couple of times before you groan and rub your face. You look back at him, your eyebrows furrowed. “Look, I know we talked about this before, but..” You trail off for a moment, looking to him for some sort of guidance. John gestures for you to continue with, “We’ve talked about a lot of things, love. Go on.”

You press your lips together before you utter something that makes John’s heart drop. “I was approached by a recruiter in P.E. class today.” John shakes his head quickly. “Absolutely not.” He says harshly, crossing his arms. “You already know my answer, I’m not signing anything.” You groan loudly and lean back in your chair. “Come on, Dad! This is truly what I want to do in life, I—“

“It’s a hard NO. Do you hear me?” John hisses, looking at you. It’s almost like he’s speaking to one of his men when they messed up. “You do not want to be in my line of work. You have no bloody idea what actually goes on.” You and your dad have had this kind of conversation before; back when you were fourteen. John had just assumed you were just getting more attached to him—since you were twelve, he’s been able to go on leave to be with you more often than he had been able to before. John just assumed it was sudden attachment due to the (family friendly) stories he had shared.

But no, even two years later, you’re still insistent on what you want to do. “Dad, please, just listen t’me—“

“My answer is and always will be no. You have no fuckin’ idea what happens out there, kid. It’s nothin’ like the games I’ve gotten you, you hear me? It’s nothin’ like the shows or the movies you begged me to buy you!” John snaps, his tone borderline vicious. You flinch at his tone, your heart dropping to your stomach. Your avert your eyes; John has never spoken to you like that before. You try to hold back the tears, but your gut is tight, throat burning as well as your eyes.

“I just..” You mumble. “I just wanted to be like you, Dad.”

John blinks, your shaky tone bringing him out of his protective rage. Guilt swirls in his chest, dripping down to his gut and settling uneasily. “Fuck, I—“ He stutters for a moment before taking in a breath in to gain his composure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to snap at you like that, that’s completely on me.” John says with a much gentler tone than before, guilt lacing every word. Your gaze sticks to his desk instead of his face as you shrug, your eyes burning.

“That’s not okay for me to do, kiddos I just..” John lets out a heavy sigh. “You know I’ve been in the military my entire life; it’s not pretty. It’s not like the films you see, alright? I’ve seen.. many, many men and women be torn apart by bullets, blown up by explosives—hell, you know the nasty scar on my left side? I walked into an explosive rigged room when you were three years old, darlin’.”

That causes you to pick up your head and look at him with wide eyes, the tears brimming your eyelids. You blink, a tear quickly falling down your cheek. John has a guilty yet solemn expression, his eyebrows furrowed together; likes yours do when you’re also upset or thinking too hard about something. “Nearly cost me my life, kid. Nearly cost you your dad.” John says the last part quieter. He watches the way your eyes dart around as you process this information, your lips parting after a moment.

“Look.. I..” You trail off for a moment, your fingers licking at the seams of your pants. “I still.. I still want to, I just..” You pause. “I don’t see myself doing anything else, dad.”John closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. “You still have a year or two, I just.. I can’t sign anything for you, kid. If you die, I just—“

“—whAt if you die, dad?? You just admitted to me a risk you took and you’re still in the military despite having a kid!” You suddenly burst, your voice breaking. John blinks at you in surprise before folding his hands together in his lap, leaning back in his office chair with a quiet squeak of the bolts. “Why is it so different if I went in??”

John looks at you, at your passion and your frustration. “Because you haven’t been tainted by this life, love. You’ll never look at anything the same.” You give him a hard stare, the sadness turning into anger. “And if I said I’m ready for that?” A beat passes. “I’m not signing anythin’. But once you’re a legal adult, I can’t stop you.” You press your lips together; that’s one of the many things you and your father have in common. You’re both incredibly stubborn and won’t back down, and maybe you both bend and break the rules a bit. “I can wait.”

[anonmousegosqueak]

From my poly 141 meet the McTavish ask (yeas, again) I propose:

How it works with the job:

So on an operation they can't exactly kiss and tell each other "I love you", and the same thing goes on base since it's fraternization… so they have code words and other stuff!

Since Ghost rarely hydrates because of the mask he has to collect water bottle caps as a "I'm not trying to die of dehydration and I still love you" and gets a kiss from each one of them every night for every cap from a water bottle.

Soap kinda is between gifting grenade pins and just leaning on them. Since he is alredy touch as a person it doesn't look out of place, but leaning in his context is more of a "I know you are solid, I hope you can help me be solid too" rather than just leaning on each of them.

Gaz is a weird one. He has something different for each one of them. He gifts Ghost bullets, sometimes white markers to re-whiten the skeleton fingers on his gloves, and sometimes keeps him steady by grabbing his tac-vest strap and saying close. For Soap it's gifting things like good colouring pencils, brushed, inking pens and other stuff. For price it's about filing the paperwork in record time. Surprisingly it works every time and he get a kiss every time.

Price has to be careful when he gives affection, he is tje captain, he is seen as an estimated figure and the superiors have sharp eyes. Yet if you know where to look you'll notice the hand on Gaz's beack going a little towards his hip, with his leutenant how he brings him food so he doesn't have to show his face in the cantine, for Soap how he lets the rules a little more loose, for Roach how he is always inclined to bending down when he talks to him, almost asking for a kiss. With Nik nobody notices anything, they are usually making out in his room though.

Nik is often overlooked by the superiors, so how he displays affection is a little more obvious. Letting Ghost observe him while he repairs a heli and then hiding inside for a quick kiss, listening to Soap make the weirdest physics calculus he ever heard to explain to him how he could change direction in half a second, helping Gaz program frones and every once in a while steal a kiss, make out on the regular with Price, sharing cool insect facts with Roach and sharing a few cute moments.

Roach is the one that does it the weirdest. He is always near Ghost. You see Ghost alone? No he isn't, Roach is at maximum 50 meters away. Soap is drawing? Roach is hiding behind me drawing a few doodles on the edges of the paper. Gaz is writing a report or doing informatics? He is near him messing around, asking questions (with double meanings obviously) messing with his hair and other stuff. Eating in the chow with Price? They are locking feet under the table. Watching Nik prepare the flight plan? Hugging him from behind.

Add your own toughs Cap!

P.S. im aware that I overdo my asks, but i need to let it out sometimes :)

WHAT DO I ADD?? THIS IS AMAZING?! ART-!

Um- okay. Uh.-

THIS IS WHY I CANT BE PRICE, I'M STRUGGLING UNDER THE PRESSURE.

Okay, I'll add birthday gifts. Sure.

Price-

Price doesn't really like to celebrate his birthday. To him, it's more just a reminder of his own mortality, not exactly something to celebrate. Still though, his boys like to go all out, it's a plausible way to show their love. Nik likes to give experiences rather than physical items (not like that- get your mind out of the gutter). A helicopter ride to a nice secluded beach is probably the most likely. Both Gaz and Soap like giving joke items. I think the "BLOWJOB QUEEN" ashtray is one of their favorites but they try to improve every year. Ghost likes giving him things he'll know Price will use. Refill of cigars, some nice alcohol, ect. Roach likes to give quality time. Even if it's quiet, he just wants to be around his captain. Bruv spends Price's birthday glued to his side. Or thigh. Or back. Or-

Nik-

No one knows Nik's birthday :( they do like to help him with stuff tho! Extra hands to help with bird maintenance. That, or maybe the gift of trying a new thing in bed ;)

Ghost-

Another birthday hater. Honestly, the best gift for him? Ignoring the date. He'll be much happier just going about it like a normal day, maybe with a few extra cuddles behind closed doors. Pls give him gifts all year long, not just on his birthday.

Gaz-

Price gives him less paperwork, Ghost takes over recruit training, Nik lets him crash in the garage, ect. Those three show their birthday affection by making his life easier. Soap and Roach though? They're dragging him out for drinks, almost definitely ending in a threesome. They're also all Sargent's together so the fraternization is a bit less of a threat.

Soap-

He. Gets. SO. MANY. Art. Supplies. Everyone gives him stuff for art. Brushes, sketchbooks, pens, fancy pencils, they all give him art supplies. (And a few gag gifts)

Roach-

Roach gets experiences. I think I mentioned this in a different post (I cannot think of which one) but for his birthday, Ghost took him to a closet. It's basically just a day for everyone to give into bug-boys weird demands. Also snacks. So many snacks. I would normally say more skincare products to help with his burns, but they literally give him that kinda stuff all year. So yeah, really it's a day of chaotic Roach demands being met.

[asphaltsugar]

michael bluth x reader

extras: drinking; set in this universe but can be read as a stand alone! no use of y/n; again something short and sweet

seeing everyone having a good time was definitely foreign amongst the monotonous manner of the place, but it made for a nice change; a celebration of any kind was bound to bring cheer even to the dullest of environments.

michael strode with a humorous, clumsy tie to his limbs—so unlike his usual set steps, his lazy smile almost contagious. you’re not exactly sure how much he had had to drink throughout the night, but you figured he was one who needed to let loose, take his mind off deadlines and the accompanying stress. he must not have known who planned the party in the first place, either, for he had stepped out of the elevator with an irritation set in his eyes, which quickly shifted from confusion to surrender.

you stood, back against the wall and drink in hand, eyeing your new coworkers as they shared jokes and giggly conversation thanks to the buzz in their blood and heady bliss in their minds. you hadn’t been there long, maybe only a few weeks, yet you guessed company parties weren’t all that common what with the manner at which they seemed to take advantage of the drinks and light snacks—such a crowd seemed out of place in their pressed business attire.

you hadn’t heard michael come up at your side—alcohol seemed to make him light in his feet.

he cleared his throat before he spoke, raising his glass to both yourself and everyone in front of you. he mumbled a ‘cheers’ under his breath, clinking your glasses together. you echoed his word with a smile, mimicking his actions and taking a sip—his eyes were lidded as they didn’t stray from your own over the rim. from this close you could spot the freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose, underneath the creases of his eyes.

you caught the quick drag of his eyes down your figure. “that color looks nice on you,” he said, shifting so he too stood with his back against the wall, one hand in his pocket.

“thanks.” you weren’t wearing anything you hadn’t come into the office in before, yet you told yourself to keep the acknowledgement in the back of your mind when deciding what to wear the next morning.

he diverted his attention back to the crowd; you took the time to see what he was wearing. his tie had since been loosened with haste, suit jacket draped over the chair in his office, sleeves rolled to show hair lining the cords of his arms.

your hands moved on their on accord, following a want guided by the drink in your limbs. the glass was set atop a table nearby, it being replaced with the fabric of his collar. it was turned upward, wrinkled.

michael didn’t move as your hands smoothed over the light purple of his dress shirt, skin of your fingers just brushing along his jaw, the neckline of his undershirt. his lips upturned at the corners.

“y’could’ve just asked if y’wanted to touch me,” he hummed, sounding almost pleased.

a scoff left your lips. “i want to make you more presentable. you are the head of the company, aren’t you?”

his voice was low as he spoke, an attempt to get a heat to flush your cheeks. “who wouldn’t want to be head of a company with a pretty secretary?”

you rolled your eyes, muttering about what a cliché his words insisted of.

“assistant secretary.” your hands smoothed over his shoulders, just as quickly returning to grab your drink. you could’ve sworn he leaned over ever so slightly to chase your touch.

he shrugged, taking a sip of his own. “kitty’s practically fired, anyway.”

“is this your way of telling me i’m being promoted?” you mocked the tone on his tongue moments before, something like a lure to the ears.

“i don’t hear you complaining,” he winked, though both eyes blinked, slow, tipsy.

you raised a hand in faux defense, beginning to walk over to the snack table, whispering so only he could hear as you stepped away from his side. “who wouldn’t want to be the secretary to the handsome head of the company?”

[s0ft-d3cay]

Playful Flirtations

Leon Kennedy x Male Reader | This took WAY to long to write, what originally was an old work I wrote a few years back. I remember enjoying the concept so I rewrote it and edited it best I could. Hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: A nice little confession(we all need one of those), both are very touch starved so there’s a lot of that, they flirt, they kiss in the end too, use of Y/N

WC: 664

Y/N’s eyes playfully squinted at Leon, arms crossed and leaned back against the red vinyl couch, facing one another on opposite sides of the private room. An older building covering in celebrity memorably, covering the walls and floor were black and white menu items, a quaint hideaway of a far away past in the atmosphere. "Are you asking if I’m single?" He asked point blank, head cocked to the side, gaze analyzing the blond.

Y/N and Leon had their fair share of close calls in the past few weeks. From meeting in passing missions, uncovering the hell that was Umbrella's fuck ups to now. It seemed the universe had a plan of its own for the both to stay close. Leon's  exhales a soft laugh, lips spreading to a sly smile. "And what if I am?" He replied smoothly.

Confidence and infatuated interest waving off him like a summer's breeze, electric blue eyes somehow glowing under the warm magenta lighting. "I am, are you?" Y/N passed back the question, grinning towards the man with a hopeful gaze. Leon wet his lips as they turned up in a giddy smile once the question was thrown back, taking him by surprise. “I am and I'd like to know more about you on a more…personal level.” Leon answers, eyes cascading over Y/N's frame with heated want.

The man's hands fidgeted with the hem of his long sleeve over the table, gaze shifting down towards their own hands. "I wouldn’t mind giving us a shot." Y/N commented softly, biting his own lower lip. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the man was, from the nervous fidgeting to his ever-wavering kindness. Placing a large hand over the other’s, gently grasping Y/N, "Well, I'd be honored to get to know you…"

Y/N’s flushed face only darkened at the action, eyes widened as his heart skipped and swooned. "You stole my line." He teased with a coy expression, hand turning to grasp back. Fingers hesitantly clasping over Leon's fingers and palm. “I’m looking to hopefully steal something else too.” Leon teased back, his fingers playing and curling between his and Y/N fingers. The sight of the other's flushed face and giddy behavior was endearing. Realizing just how soft the man in front of him was inside and out.

"Like what?" Y/N asked back with bashfulness, a hint of mischievous coy tactics. He scoots to the edge of the seat, knees pressed against Leon's beneath the table. The man let out a chuckle, mirroring Y/N as he moved closer, fingers still played and curled between heated fingers and palm.

The warmth from Y/N's hand enticing the man to bring them up to his lips, his gaze flickering between his awaiting lips and playful eyes. "Come on Leon, I wanna hear you say it." Y/N egged on, now pressing themselves halfway against the table. Nose barely touching the man's, they're so close.

Bringing up a free hand to caress his cheek, lightly tracing over his scruffy jaw and cheekbone. Leon chuckled softly, the soft and gentle voice teasing him to make a move. It was hard not to do things to please Y/N, the man was just so alluring. He dreamily let out a sigh, eyes flickering back to Y/N’s. Gazing into them as he barely brushed their lips together. "Can I maybe steal a little kiss?”

"I’m not gonna say no to a kiss." Y/N whispered with an airy laugh, eagerly smiling bright as their blush darkened. Leon chuckled softly, tempting him further to push more buttons to tease and embarrass him. "I mean…if you want my hands and lips all over you, all you gotta do is ask.”

The Y/N completely froze at that comment, eyes growing wide with genuine surprise. Heart racing as his brain scattered in all different directions and future ideas. "Now you’re just threatening me with a good time." Y/N answered in a low whisper, leaning in to capture the man's lips with his own.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[vintagetvstars]

Henry Blake - gets a touching goodbye episode

Trapper - gets a few scenes of Hawkeye being sad he left before he got to say goodbye

Frank Burns - everyone is celebrating and Hawkeye and pierce are stealing his stuff

😭😂

Listen I didn’t mind Frank, he was a fun character for what they were trying to do with him. Despite being a mostly one note character, Larry Linville did a good job with the role.

Anyway I am in season 6 now and I’ve had David Ogden Stiers as Charles Emerson Winchester III for barely an episode and I can already tell I’m gonna love him. I can definitely see him joining Henry Blake and Radar as one of my fav mash characters. BJ and Potter both added their own fun dynamic to things that I’ve really enjoyed so I’m excited to see what Winchester brings to the table.

- mod vintage

[yowyowyaoi]

*Tobirama having dinner with Hashirama and Madara*

Hashirama: Not to brag, but, I think my cooking’s getting better all the time! 

Madara: We’re 30 minutes into this meal and I have yet to be hit with debilitating stomach cramps, so, I suppose I’d agree.

Tobirama, quietly: Very good, elder brother.

Hashirama: Oh; smells like my dessert is about finished! You two keep eating while I go tend to it! *gets up and leaves*

Tobirama, softly, to Madara: Did you tell him — ?

Madara: No. Does he know how you got that black eye?

Tobirama: I told him I tripped over a rock in the dark. *touches his face* Hurts like a son of a bitch.

Madara: I won’t apologize, because I think you deserved it. Senju or not, I would have had the same reaction if I had walked in on anybody kissing my baby brother the way you were.

Tobirama: I see your position, Madara. But you never even asked me mine. I know you don’t like to hear such things, but, I’m in love with Izuna. And perhaps we shouldn’t have been sneaking around behind your back all this time, but —

Madara: No, you shouldn’t have been. It’s not just a matter of him being my brother; I am the Uchiha clan elder. All matters of … of courtship, need to go through me. It’s tradition, and a matter of respect. Or maybe courtship isn’t what you had in mind. Maybe you’re just after my brother to satisfy your physical needs.

Tobirama: That’s not it, at all. I am very much in love with that man. I want to make him my husband some day. And if groveling to you is what I need to do, to help that happen …

Tobirama: *leaves his place at the table and crawls on his knees to Madara, bowing when he gets to him*

Tobirama: Please, I beg of you; allow me to enter into courtship with Izuna Uchiha, according to the customs of your clan.

Madara: Well …

Hashirama, coming into the room with a large cake: Just say Yes, Madara. End this nonsense between you two. It’s bad enough you hurt his face like that.

Madara: Wait … you knew that was me?

Hashirama: Of course I did. Tobirama senses everything, all the time. There’s no feasible way he’d “trip over a rock” and fall in the dark. And then I saw Izuna a few days ago in the village, and he was acting so shy and nervous … not to mention when I invited him for dinner tonight, and told him you both would be here, he all but panicked. So I put two and two together.

Madara: Your brother says he wants to marry Izuna some day. Honestly, truthfully; do you feel like he’d make a good husband?

Hashirana: Mmm; difficult to say, really. I’ve known Tobi my whole life, after all. He can be really stubborn sometimes, and when he gets wrapped up in writing or inventing new jutsus, he can go silent for days. But I also know your brother brings something out of him that I’ve never seen before. Izuna makes him smile, and laugh, and just enjoy life more. I don’t doubt that he loves him, and I think, I know, that he’d be the best husband possible for him. He —

Madara, gruffly: Alright, Hashi … you needn’t get so emotional about it. A simple “yes” would have sufficient. 

Tobirama: Indeed, big brother. Most unbefitting behavior for a Hokage.

Hashirama, blushing: You two are certainly rude. But is the matter settled then? Can I send for Izuna to come eat this cake with us, so we can celebrate?

Madara, sighing: Very well. I suppose … I suppose Izuna could do worse than Tobirama. But Senju, you can’t just jump to proposing to him. You have to take him on a series of dates, some with Uchiha clan members as guardians, some with Senju as guardians, and sometimes both. If both clans find your behavior and your union to be acceptable after an appropriate period of time, THEN you can ask him for his hand. *sticks out his own hand* Agreed?

Tobirama: *shakes Madara’s hand* Agreed.

Madara: Good. Now that that’s settled: feed me.

Tobirama: Excuse me?

Madara: Mm? Didn’t you say you’d do anything to be able to court my brother? Well, here’s your chance to prove it. Feed me, and then when Izuna gets here, you’ll let him sit on your back, like a chair. And afterwards you’re going to carry the both of us back home. Clan tradition, you understand.

Madara: Also, you better learn how to bake, and fast. See this cake? Izuna will eat more than half of this if he’s not stopped. If you marry him, he’ll expect something sweet like this every day for the rest of your lives. And if you bake something he doesn’t like — *pulls off his glove, revealing a series of bite marks on his hand* Lets just say he’s not too forgiving.

Tobirama:

Tobirama: What have I gotten myself into?

[potchi-fics]

Tease

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

being teased can sometimes irk you, but most of the time, it's all fun and games-- and a touch of love in the side. but what'll be your reaction when teasing can help you with your tiny crush on someone?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

you were casually cafe hopping, just overall loving the feeling of discovering new shop.

entering a new shop you see, the soft shopkeeper bell filling the cafe. just that brings you so much joy, the mood of the vintage-themed place brings so much comfort to you.

the worker asked as you approach the counter, "hi, what can i get you?"

you tell him your order but you can't help but notice a group of women in your peripheral vision looking and subtly pointing at you. you also don't fail to notice one of them hiding their face under her cap.

weird... but they kind of look familiar to me? you pondered the question. despite that, you took a seat a table away from them, though they're now directly in front of your vision.

the thought of them looking so familiar to you lingers your mind for minutes now, desperately to remember where you saw them. just as you receive your order, it finally clicks.

they're team Bebe!

you mouth the words team bebe unconsciously, the huge revelation being clear as day in your face. you wave to them and lusher waves back and makes a motion that seems like she wants you to join their table.

you decline and was just about to go on your merry way when CheChe and Sowoen stands up and walks towards you.

"hi," CheChe beams at you.

you smile excitedly at the two, "hello!" you were about to ask them what's wrong but Sowoen beats you to it.

"do you want to sit with us? we don't mind, if you're worried about that."

not wanting to waste this opportunity, you grab your things and walk with them-- conversing until you three were seated.

now getting shy, you try to greet the remaining members. "hi, everyone.."

you get joyous replies, making you smile again. you all talk however, you notice a certain someone not talking, and averting her gaze when you catch her looking at you: Bada-- a person whom you have a crush on.

"how'r you, leader of team Bebe?" you ask to try and talk to her, i mean this is a once in a lifetime chance.

snickers from around the table reaches your ear, along with them teasing..?

"yeah, how are you?" Minah says in a joking voice.

Tatter hops in, "why so shy, our leader?"

you see Bada's throat bob up and down, "i'm okay, thanks for asking. how about you?" hushed whispers surround you both but you ignore them. "don't mind them."

"you know, i feel so shy right now..." you sheepishly admit.

she laughs, her eyes disappearing, "don't be, i wanted you to sit with us."

she wanted me to sit with them? heat creeps up on your cheek as you hear more shushed laughter and whistles, you just ignore that and continue your conversation.

just like that, you two are off in your own world. talking and laughing as you both shared common interests, discussing your likes and dislikes-- as if you two were the only one at the table.

the girls take pictures, even videos, of you two enjoying your little date. since your focus was only on Bada, you couldn't really see them making finger hearts and kissy faces behind you-- Bada, on the other hand, could see it all.

the pair of you don't even notice the time, that's how caught up you two were in your bubble. Kyma clears her throat, snapping your gaze to them-- unfortunately, they had to go. "excuse me, lovebirds, we still have practice."

"it was really nice talking to all of you." you voice out.

Lusher smirks, "all of us, huh.."

Bada shushes her and the others bid their goodbyes to you, but Bada stayed.

"can i.. maybe have your number?"

you let out a giggle, "why do you sound unsure?" Bada ogles at you. "of course."

she gives you her phone and you type in your number before bidding her goodbye.

you sit down and realise what just happened and you can't help but squeal.

outside the cafe, you don't see Bada celebrating and the other girls cheering her on.

✮⋆˙♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🦭✧˖°

this one is for @nimixe, hope you like it ! for the pinoy readers reading this, listen to "This guy's in love with you, pare" by Parokya ni Edgar hehe

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

8. Just a little more to go?

Part 1 - the bachelorette

Part 2 - the honeymoon

Warnings: mentions of nudity.

----------------------------------------------------------

     He stroked his girlfriend’s side gently as she squeezed herself against him, trying to reassure her with his touch. He could practically hear her heart beating against her chest as they waited for the results of her PhD defence. He was sure she’d get it: she’d practised her presentation on him enough times for him to have memorised it by heart and, if he were being honest, it was at least twice as good as his had been. The door opened suddenly and the both of them hopped to their feet as one of the professors approached them. His face was straight, his features giving nothing away, and X reached for Miguel’s hand, gripping it tightly when she found it. The professor stopped in front of X, then he broke into a wide smile. “Congratulations, Dr X!”

     Her jaw dropped and she stopped breathing as she tried to process the news. 

     “I did it?” She turned to Miguel, her eyes wide. “I did it!”

     “Yes! Yes! You did it, querida!” He wrapped her up in his arms, overjoyed on her behalf. “I knew you would do it! I’m so proud of you, mi amor!”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she wriggled happily against him before going off to hug the rest of her family. 

     “Should we get going first?” X’s sister asked Miguel once she’d disappeared back into the room to finish up a few things. “You can bring X after she’s done, right?” 

     Her family had come over to support her during her final presentation and they’d all organised a dinner to celebrate X after. Miguel nodded in agreement.  “We’ll see you guys in a bit.” 

     He didn’t have to wait long until X returned, bouncing out of the room and taking his hand in hers. Miguel wound their fingers together as they walked to his car. “So, now that you’ve gotten your doctorate … can we start planning our wedding? 

     X laughed and chucked her shoulder into his. He’d already brought up the topic of marriage multiple times, though he never pushed her to speed up the process. He just liked talking about it - liked imagining what their lives would be like when they became husband and wife and started their own little family together. She squeezed his hand, her stomach flipping at the thought of him being the father of her kids. 

     “Okay.” They were making good progress on their timeline: her finishing her degree and him setting the financial foundation for them to start building their life together. So she supposed she could take some time off to focus on planning their wedding. Plus, it would be nice to take a bit of a break from work and studying, before she got burnt out from it all. “But don’t try to propose to me today! I don’t want our anniversary to be on the same day that I got my doctorate.”

     Miguel flashed her an awkward smile. He hadn’t planned on proposing to her that night, but she wasn’t wrong in thinking that he’d considered the idea: she’d wanted to wait until she’d finished her studies, after all, and finish them she had. But her sister had said the exact same thing when he’d approached her about the idea, so he’d gone back to his drawing board and re-planned his proposal to her. He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Right.”

     “Oh my god!” Wendy screeched, rushing over to give X a hug. “Congratulations! Show me the ring!” 

     She stepped back, giving X the space to lift her hand and display the elegant diamond on her finger. “Oh my god, it’s so beautiful! Ahh! I can’t believe you and Miguel are getting married! Oh my god! That’s crazy!”

     X grinned, getting giddy herself as they walked over to their table. She couldn’t believe herself that she was about to get married to him! The man of her dreams, the love of her life. 

     “Have you guys started planning yet?” Wendy asked as they sat down. “How is it going?”

     “Well, my sister and my mum were helping Miguel get some stuff planned out while I was still studying, but now that I’ve graduated I’m going to get more involved in it. I’m really excited! It’s going to be so much fun.”

     Wendy clasped her hands together, a dreamy expression on her face. 

     “Oh my god, you guys are so cute together.” She straightened suddenly and her expression morphed into one of fear. “Wait, I’m invited to your wedding, right?”

     “Of course!” X laughed at Wendy’s obvious nerves and the younger girl relaxed again. Then she leaned across the table, a mischievous smile now on her face. 

     “Wait, so, am I the bride’s side or the groom’s side?” she asked. 

     X let out another burst of laughter as she pictured the confused and horrified look her boyfriend - her fiancé - would most likely give her if she suggested such an idea to him. “Should we put you on the groom’s side? That would be so funny, oh my god. Can you imagine Miguel’s reaction?”

     Wendy joined in X’s amusement as she herself began imagining her ex-supervisor’s reaction to the idea. 

     “But, anyway, I’m going to invite you to my bachelorette party, if that’s okay?” X continued, biting her lip in anticipation of Wendy’s response. But she needn’t have worried. 

     “Of course! Oh, my god, I can’t wait!” Wendy exclaimed, picking up her menu to scan through it. X glanced at her own menu as her body began buzzing with delight at the thought of all the events that would lead up to her wedding: she couldn’t wait either.

     “¿Querida?” Miguel questioned, his confusion evident even over the phone. It was his fiancée’s bachelorette night and, judging by the loud music in the background, they’d made it to the drinking part of the evening. 

     “Miguel?!” X exclaimed a little too loudly. He could tell by her uncontrollable excitement at hearing the sound of his voice that she was probably quite drunk already. “Can you come pick me up, querido? I’m tired.”

     Miguel snickered at the innocent question. “We’re getting married the day after tomorrow, querida. We’re not supposed to see each other until then.”

     X sighed as if he wasn’t understanding what she was saying. “That’s stupid, Miguel. How am I supposed to get married to you when I can’t see you?”

     Miguel chuckled at her exasperated tone. “Do you not want to get married to me, querida?”

     “No! No, no, no!” X groaned, sounding like she was losing her patience with him. “Don’t be stupid, Miguel! Of course I want to marry you! I want to marry you so hard!”

     Miguel felt his chest warm at her matter-of-fact tone. She was so adorable when she was drunk. “You should go to sleep, querida. Where are you? Who’s in charge?”

     “I don’t … I want to go to sleep, Miguel. Can you come pick me up, amor?” she repeated, almost as if she hadn’t heard or didn’t care about what he’d just tried to explain to her. 

     “Querida,” Miguel told her, his tone firm. “I’m calling your sister.”

     X let out another frustrated groan. “Ugh! You’re so annoying!”

     “Hasta luego, querida (See you later, darling),” Miguel chuckled. “Te amo. (I love you.)”

     “I love you too, Miguel,” X mumbled instinctively. He hung up the phone, then called her sister immediately. 

     “Keira?” he asked once she’d picked up. “Where’s X?”

     “Miguel? Hello?” Keira responded, struggling to hear him over the heavy bass pounding in the background. “What’s wrong?” 

     “Where’s X?” Miguel asked, making sure to enunciate his words clearly. “She just called me saying she wants to go home.”

     “She went to the toilet,” Keira explained, the noise surrounding her fading away as she moved to a quieter area. “Wait, let me go find her.”

     Miguel waited as she likely made her way over to the toilet, then he heard a loud gasp sound over the phone. 

     “Oh no!” Keira exclaimed, her voice panicked. “She just messaged me that she got a taxi to your place!”

     Miguel sighed, mentally berating himself for not anticipating his crazy little future wife’s stubborn independence. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I’ll text you when she gets here.”

     He waited in the lobby, keeping an eye on X’s location through the message she’d sent him. He looked up when he saw her car pulling into the lobby and though he did his best to maintain a stern expression, he couldn’t help his lips from twitching at the corners when he saw her pressed up against the window, an overjoyed smile on her face as she waved at him. He stepped forward to open the car door for her and X stumbled into his arms. 

     “Miguel! I missed you so much, janam!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly at the comforting feeling of being pressed up against him. Miguel held her firmly against him as he closed the car door and turned her around towards their building. 

     “Vamos, querida,” he instructed. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

     X continued clinging onto him as he helped her into the lift, barely waiting for the doors to close before she stretched onto her toes and began kissing and licking her way up his neck. 

     “Querida,” Miguel warned her, trying to stop her whilst also keeping her upright at the same time. X giggled, amused by how patiently he cared for her even when he was clearly annoyed by her overwhelming affection. The lift doors soon opened up to their floor and X continued to snicker giddily as Miguel guided her to their apartment. 

     “It’s your bachelor night, Miguel!” X pointed out to him as he opened the door for her. She turned around and wrapped herself around him once he’d closed the door behind them. “Your last night to have great, premarital sex.” 

     She tilted her head back and puckered her lips at him, her breath coated with the scent of alcohol. Miguel pulled away from her, amused. “Querida … How much did you have to drink?” 

     She was a bit of a lightweight, having never liked the taste of alcohol, so he guessed that she’d probably only had maybe three drinks? X fell against his chest, her exhaustion taking over now. “I don’t know. I’m just so excited to marry you!” 

     Miguel pressed a kiss to the top of her head and walked her over to the stairs. “I’m excited to marry you too, X.”

     He lifted her into his arms to carry her up to their bedroom and X giggled as she wriggled her legs delightedly. “Miguel! Are you trying to seduce me while I’m drunk?”

     She leaned over to press her lips to his neck and begin grazing her teeth and tongue along his skin again. Miguel raised an eyebrow as she let out a soft moan, the cute little sound causing his stomach to tighten in excitement. 

     “Are you sure you’re not the one trying to seduce me, querida?” he asked as he lay her down on the bed. 

     His fiancée smiled up at him sweetly, her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Is it working?”

     Miguel groaned and kissed her softly as he settled himself on top of her. 

     “Mmm, querida,” he murmured, moving his lips to the side of her neck. “We’re not supposed to be doing this, mi amor.” 

     But he continued making his way down her body, dampening her clothes with his saliva as he brushed his lips and tongue across her soft curves. X tangled her fingers in his hair as her hips lifted off the bed, silently begging him for relief. “When have we ever done what we’re supposed to be doing, cariño?”

     He pulled back to look down at her, her skin rosy from the alcohol running through her blood, her lips curled into an adoring smile as she gazed up at him. She was so lovely and so sweet and he sighed in defeat before he pressed his lips back to hers. He kissed her a little more, then rested his head on her shoulder and curled up against her side.

     “Miguel …” X wriggled out from under his grasp and sat up to cup his cheek in her hand. She stroked her thumb across his skin as her eyes trailed down his delicious body, then she swung her leg over him, settling herself on top of him. His eyes darkened as she tugged her shirt off and he watched silently as she continued pulling off her clothes. Finally, she sat back, completely exposed before him, and Miguel felt his heart speed up as she grinned down at him, her curly hair tumbling over her shoulders and brushing her breasts. X leaned forward, letting her lips land back on his neck, and Miguel sucked in a breath as she began wriggling her body against his. 

     “Querida …” he murmured, curling his fingers around her ass and squeezing her appreciatively. X squealed with delight and ground her hips into his, drawing a low groan out of him. Miguel slid his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. 

     “It’s your bachelor night, Miguel,” X repeated, sitting up and sliding her hands under his shirt to pull it off. Miguel held her steady as she tossed his shirt aside, then he shuffled backwards to lean against the headboard. X smiled and leaned forward to peck his lips. “Let me take care of you, hermoso.” 

     She slid her hands up his chest as she began nibbling his jaw, admiring his broad and firm muscles, then she began kissing her way down his torso. Miguel sucked in a breath as she reached his stomach, her tongue tracing the lines of his abs as carefully as she could in her inebriated state. But then she sat back up and started tugging at his waistband, trying to pull it off of him. Miguel placed his hand over hers, stopping her, and X pouted up at him in disappointment. 

     “Vamos, querida,” he told her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Let’s get you into the shower.” 

     X whined in protest as he stood them up and set her on the ground. “I don't want to shower, Miguel! I want to have sex with you!"

     He chuckled softly as she stroked his hair and began mumbling against his chest sleepily. “We haven't had sex in so long, querido! We're gonna have to spend our entire honeymoon having sex just to make up for it!”

     He grinned wickedly and straightened her to cup her face in his hand, giving himself the chance to admire her beautiful little body. “What makes you think I wasn't planning on doing that anyway?”

     He bent over to press his lips to hers, then picked her up and carried her over to the shower.

Tags: @heubstr @zayai @amberbalcom14 @julia4today

[emmitaaa4]

“A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.”

I'm tearing up. The comment below is how Azriel would speak of Elain when xyz happens and he lets his heart pour out (and I have the evidence of course).

She doesn’t like change and loves to love the world around her.

“Beautiful.” / “After all of this, the world needs more gardens.”

“In celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She loves so hard she hurts herself at times and doesn't let me pick up the pieces, even though I always do it anyway.

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today--that love would trump even a mating bond.

(...)

Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms. (...) Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm (...) and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

"What if" - I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden. “That is what she needs?

“I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else."

“Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body.”

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” / It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. / Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding had freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

“What about Elain?” / “I’m getting her back” “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” 

Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (...) Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

 

He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (...) I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

 “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. (...) Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. (...) earning a grateful smile from Elain. (...) the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” (...) A fight with Nesta. don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation.

She’s stubborn like a mule but as delicate as a flower, always sad but never beaten.

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of how we meet the consequences.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those same smiles before, on my own damn face. / Elain, it seemed, was as sleepless as me.

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to live a small, quiet life, while refusing to let me do anything greater.”

I love the way she understand what I'm trying to say without needing to hear me say it, when I can't seem to formulate anything at all.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly.

He left the rest unspoken. (…) Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

"Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

She's probably the best thing that's happened to me.

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” (...) Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room.

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that (...) she understood why he stood near the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

There she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

A headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the HoW. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. (...) Elain's mouth twitched into a smile (...) He offered a smile back.

His head went quiet.

There is lust. There is tension. But there is also so much more.