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be-with-me-so-happily · 9 months

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il gran finale

ONE SHOT

Summary: As photography apprentice to Lloyd Wakefield, you have been around Harry quite a lot on tour, capturing all the mesmerizing moments on stage. But at the after party of the final show in Reggio Emilia, he seems to be the one zoned in on you.

AN: I don't know if this is any good. I haven't written smut in so long, but with Love On Tour coming to an end, I needed to do something!

Warnings: Some explicit language, alcohol consumption, mild exhibitionism kink, fingering, public unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it people)

You've always known Harry Styles is a gentleman. Even before you took on the role of apprentice photographer to Lloyd Wakefield, you only ever heard positive comments about the man, about how kind and caring he is. No one ever has a bad thing to say, and touring with him has only proven those things to be true. He is a sweet guy, just as everyone claims him to be.

That's his reputation. His public reputation.

But the way his enchanting and lustful green eyes have locked in on you for the past several minutes has made you think of nothing but the other reputation he has. The dream that you and thousands of his fans indulge in. The fantasy of him taking control of every single part of you, of using you, of pleasing you. Of giving you everything he has while you are under him, and on top of him, and in front of him, and…

You reset yourself as nearby laughter pulls you out of those delicious yet indelicate thoughts, ones you may need to draw upon later in the privacy of your hotel room.

It's bad enough that he has a flirtatious side. The subtle winks, the cheeky smiles, the wiggles of his eyebrows when a mildly indecent comment has been made. Usually by him. Both on and off stage, each of those gestures can easily get you flustered.

And it definitely doesn't make your job any easier, especially considering it's your assignment to watch him, to photograph him, to view him in a variety of different angles, none of which could be considered unflattering. He always looks good.

The outfit tonight, the shaggy silver get-up, showcasing his glistening pecs and chiseled abs, only added to the assortment of desires you only dwell upon alone at night. You're usually very composed, for the most part. You know how to play it cool.

But right now, as his stare exhibits something primal, you feel as if your entire body is on fire, and you can't help but be engulfed by the flames.

Clinking of the ice in your glass as you bring it to your lips alerts you to the fact that your drink has been fully consumed, and you decide to head to the bar for a refill. If not just for another drink, then for the moment of solidarity to gather yourself and bring some air back into your lungs. Because you are sure it's not the alcohol that's causing you to feel so dizzy.

"Hi, could I please hav-"

"Another margarita?" You hear in a deep, sultry, British voice sounding out from behind you. Right behind you.

"Yes please." You utter, almost inaudibly, to the bartender, the heat from before intensifying with each breath of Harry's that you feel on your neck.

"And I'll have two shots of Tequila, please sir." He states, so casually, as you stand frozen in place.

A cold breeze hits your skin as you see him move around and position himself to your left, leaving you to miss the warmth he was just providing.

"You look like you're having a good time." He states, as he brings his glass to his lips. You watch as the rim rests on them. You watch as the liquid slides between them. And you watch as a smirk pulls in the mischievous dimple that he is so well known for, unintentionally licking your own lips in the process.

"Sorry… what were you saying?" You ask, attention moving back to his gaze and finding those glistening green irises already locking in on your eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" He chuckles in response to your question, leaving your heart pounding with embarrassment.

"I am!" You exclaim, quicker than anticipated, clearly not playing it cool like you believe you usually do.

"Good." He replies simply.

"Are you?"

"I am." He nods, his eyes quickly flickering down your body, before switching their focus back to the bar, creating a warmth between your legs, and you try desperately not to squirm.

"Good." You reply, with a giggle, finally taking the sip of margarita that has unknowingly been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. "So we're both enjoying ourselves."

He chuckles along with you, shaking his head as he throws back his second shot. He swallows it harshly, drawing your eye to the way his Adam's apple bobs with the consumption of the liquor. You notice his body begin to turn towards you, and as you glaze up his neck to his gorgeous face, a lustful expression falls over it. His brows narrow, and deviancy sparks in his eyes, turning them to a deep, enticing emerald.

"Want to enjoy each other now?"

"Sure, that-" You begin to respond, but your eyes begin to travel down to his lips, noticing how his teeth dig into the bottom one. His look of determination makes you wonder if there's a more devious meaning behind it, and that thought alone causes an extreme yearning between your legs. "Wait… what do you mean?"

He leans against the bar, his tattoo-covered forearm resting on top, as the palm of his right hand gently slides over your hip and draws you closer with the mildest press of his fingertips against your dress.

"YN, I just had one of the best nights of my fucking life! I want to celebrate. Really celebrate."

"And… how-... umm… how do you want to really celebrate?" You chuckle nervously, every hair on your body standing straight, every nerve on high alert.

"I can show you. If you want me to." He utters, almost a whisper, barely audible in the jumble of conversations surrounding you, but loud enough that it sends the coldest shiver down your spine. He leans closer, his body following along until you are only inches apart. "And considering how tightly your thighs are clenched together right now… I think you do."

Your mouth instantly drops open, and if he wasn't actually correct, and those contracted muscles weren't holding you upright, your legs would have buckled beneath you.

"C'mon." He whispers, softly running two fingers down your arm and grabbing your hand, pulling your body to follow him.

"Harry, wait." You manage to get out, surprisingly, considering the daze he's just put you in. "This… is your party..."

"Yeah." He states, shrugging so casually as he turns back to look at you. "So?"

"We can't just leave!"

Harry stops his trek, along with your heart. He swivels around, the most salacious smirk wide across his face, and to your surprise, you manage to clench your core even tighter.

He leans down to your ear, his lip barely grazing the bottom, his breath steady but thick.

"Who said anything about leaving?"

An exhale releases all the air held in your lungs, leaving you unsure whether it is the margaritas or his suggestive statement that's making your head spin.

He turns back and maneuvers through the crowd of people that have come to congratulate and party with him. But he seems to be a man on a mission.

Through the dim lights and the loud thumps of the music filling the room, you somehow find yourself looking at a staircase leading up the the second floor of the venue.

"Just us?" You hear Harry ask the security staff member guarding the way.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." He responds with a quick nod.

Without hesitation, Harry leads you up, each step building the anxious anticipation inside of you. It's not even clear what may be waiting for you at the top, but if Harry's apparent determination is any indication, it won't be boring.

As you reach the landing, you do a quick scan of your surroundings, seeing a couple of purple velvet sofas pushed against the wall. He takes you further in, letting go of your hand and placing both of his large palms on the thick, black railing in front of him. You stand at his side, copying his stature, though feeling the sweat of your hands being transferred to the metal within them.

The neon flashing of lights is the only thing brightening the venue, as the music sounds and provides a rhythm for the rest of the attendees to move their bodies to. You feel Harry's closest arm glide its way across your back, settling itself on your opposite hip, and squeezing with enough firmness to tell you he wants to be gentle with you, but also wants not to be.

The rest of his figure moves along behind you, pulling you closer to him, as if your bodies had an unretractable magnetic connection. The warmth of his lips suddenly hits right below your ear, causing every muscle you have to practically melt under that simple touch.

"Harry…" You utter, unsure if you've been heard over the sound of the new song beginning to play. "People could see us…"

"Doubtful." He mumbles, his breath tickling down your neck. "No one's looking anyway."

Another kiss moistens your skin, and your head falls backwards to him, resting against his broad, strong shoulder, encouraging him to continue his tantalizing exploration.

He grazes your hips with his palms, running them up and down the tops of your thighs, letting out a heavy exhale when he stops at the hem of your dress. His fingertips tease the edge, sliding around to the front. One hand lifts up to your waist, while the other glides around to your inner thigh, and you could swear your panties are already soaked.

"Do you like this?" He whispers in your ear, and with the state of daze he currently has you in, all you can manage is a subtle nod. "Tell me. Do you like this?"

"Y-yes." You breathe out.

"Do you want more?" He asks in the lowest tone he's ever spoken in, barely needing to convince you that he'll give you whatever you want.

"Yes." You reply, anticipation thick in your stomach.

His fingers run up and under your dress, and you thank yourself for picking the shorter of your two options when you were getting ready for the party.

You attempt to push him back a few paces to the closest velvet sofa for some privacy, but he stands solid in place and you stretch your neck to get as good of a look at him as you can.

"Stay." He states simply, not a demand that you couldn't reject, but the way his tone hit your soul, you can't even imagine refusing him of almost anything he wanted.

Suddenly your body jumps, as you feel mild pressure slowly moving up the center of your panties.

"Soaked." Harry whispers. "Didn't realize I got you this wet, this fast."

His teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe, as his fingers snap the fabric of your underwear, causing you to let out the most pathetic and needy whimper.

"Harry… please." You whine, desperate for something, anything, that he is willing to give you.

"What do you want, YN?"

"Touch me." You reply, your legs already weak at the thought.

He listens, running his index along your center, feeling how slick he's made you. Suddenly, he dips it inside of you, and you worry he could make you cum right here and now. But god you want to feel so much more. You want him to give you so much more.

Slowly, his finger pulls out, but immediately glides back in, accompanied by another, pumping them both in unison, and sending your head into a spin.

"Do you want more?" He asks into your ear.

"Yes." You barely reply, hoping with all you have that he heard your response.

He adds one more finger, and the trio pick up their pace as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

"Oh my god." You whine, feeling a sensation ripple through your body. Nothing you've done to yourself, alone with just your thoughts of him, could ever compare to the feeling of what he's doing to you now.

In and out, his fingers pump, and you're sure if the music suddenly stopped, the noise of his motions would echo from wall to wall.

"You're so tight." He utters. "Don't know if you'd be able to handle my cock."

Just the mention of that word has you moaning, so you reach your arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, and you tilt your head towards him.

"I want that."

"You want what?" He asks, quickening his pace, and halting your words until you swallow the lump that's caught in your throat.

You look down, scanning the crowd for any prying eyes, only to find everyone distracted by their own activities below. Although, at this moment, you aren't sure if that matters to you. If that would stop you.

"I want your cock." You admit, using your free hand to push in between your two bodies and palm over his hard bulge, the feeling of his thick girth creating an even deeper yearning for it.

"Fuck." He growls, his cock twitching under the fabric of his pants.

The emptiness created as his fingers leave your body almost has you wishing you hadn't made any other request, but as you feel his waistband tug down, and the bare skin of his cock as it springs out from its confines and back into your hand, you get wetter than you've been in any moment before.

A strong thigh parts your legs, the back of your dress inches up, and as you feel his long, thick cock glide between them and coat itself in your wetness, Harry lets out a deep, rumbling growl. He runs one hand up your spine and pushes slightly on your back, getting you to bend over a bit and prop yourself up with your hands gripping the railing.

There's never been a desperation so intense as now, as you feel Harry's tip tease your entrance. You've never wanted anything more than the sensation of him pushing into you, stretching you out, giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.

"Think you can fit me inside there?" He asks, the smugness more enticing than you could have imagined possible. But his words, his touch, his everything is overwhelming and rendering you speechless. Then you hear Harry hum, as if knowing your inability to reply, and answering it for himself. "I think you can."

And just like that, he slips in. Slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size each time he pushes in a little further. Filling you completely with every inch he goes deeper, until all you feel is him. Until all you know is him.

"Oh my god." You moan out, unaware if it has been drowned out by the music and chatter of everyone else.

He quickens his pace slightly, and your hold on the railing tightens, not only to steady yourself, but also to possibly disguise your actual activities as simply enjoying the rhythm of the song.

"All these people… and no one knows what we're doing up here." Harry grunts as he thrusts into you, drawing out another, yet much heavier, moan from your chest. It's followed by a pleased groan from behind you, the sound almost as good as any song he's ever sung. "But I wouldn't care if they did… if they saw how well you're taking me… and if they heard much you love it."

"Harry…" You whine, as an extreme sensation builds in your core, feeling every nerve peek, alerting you to the fact that at any moment now, you'll be completely taken over by the intense amount of pleasure he's giving you. "I need to-"

"No." He states sternly.

"Please!" You beg, all dignity being tossed aside.

"Not yet." He replies, and all of a sudden, you feel hollow. Something is missing, and as you feel yourself clear out from the heightened state of a daze you've been in since you reached that second level of the venue, you realize his glorious cock is no longer inside of you.

"What-" You begin, stepping back and turning around to face him, finding his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, creating an even stronger desire to have him fill the gap again.

"I need to fuck you harder, and faster." He explains grabbing both hips as he backs up and lowers down to take a seat on the sofa. "And I need to watch you when you cum all over my cock."

A shallow breath makes its way out between your lips at his statement, and you slowly lower yourself to straddle his lap, feeling a throb inside yourself as you feel another underneath you.

Your hips begin to grind on him, hoping to create an impatience in him as strong as the one in you. You cup his cheeks within your palms and bring your lips to his, smiling against them as they part and release a deep moan. You move to kiss his jaw, letting the stubble tickle your skin and you make your way down his neck. His hands begin to roam your body, exploring more than they had been able to when standing at the railing. They grip your back, your waist, and settle at your hips, gripping just tight enough to guide them back and forth.

"All I've thought about tonight… is having you like this." You hear him utter, the words hitting deep into the pit of your stomach. "Hell, all I think about most nights is… fuck… is having you like this!"

You pull back, your eyes immediately locking in on his, as if your bodies are confessing their deepest desires to each other in a secret, seductive language. Without a word, you push up on your knees, hovering over and inviting him back inside of you, where you want him the most. One of his hands holds his cock steady as the other remains on you, helping you to lower back down onto him. In this position, you can feel him ever more, much to your surprise considering he filled you so well just moments ago.

"Then fuck me how you've been wanting to." You state, your focus still fully on him.

As soon as he's given that permission, both palms squeeze tighter to your body, pulling you down on his cock as if to meld your bodies together.

"Oh god." He exclaims, throwing his head backwards to rest on the sofa, dropping his mouth open as you begin to bounce.

Almost instantly, with the new depth he's hitting, you feel your body reignited and a release drawing near.

"Harry, this is…" You mumble, the pleasure hindering a complete coherent sentence. "It's… how…"

"Tell me, baby." He replies, holding you down as he starts to thrust up into you, leaving you unable to feel anything other than him.

"This is how… oh my-… I've been wanting you… to fuck me, too…"

"F-... fucks sake!" He exclaims, no longer holding back his vigor as he goes as fast and gets as deep as he possibly can, causing moans to burst out from both of you.

"Harr-... I'm gon-..." You whine, trying to plead with him to get you over the edge and fall into a pool of ecstasy. The sight of his hair becoming messy with sweat, the feel of his hands holding you down, the taste of his skin on your lips, the smell of his cologne exuding off his chest, the sound of his breathy moans in your ear. He has completely taken over all of your senses, and you know this is the best experience you've ever had.

"Say it, YN. Look at me and say it." He growls, and as your eyes find his, the amount of lust in his begins to push you off the ledge.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Where?"

"On your cock!" You blurt, the level of volume coinciding with the intensity of your desperation. "I'm gonna cum on your cock."

"Do it." He commands, and with his permission, you immediately let go, completely melting into him as that desired ecstasy rips through your entire body.

Your face falls into the crook of his neck, only leaving enough room to draw in some shallow, labored breaths. You can feel Harry squirm beneath you, his stride becoming less rhythmic with each stroke into you, his chest rising and falling in the same, unsteady way.

"YN… if I can't cum inside you, tell me now, 'cause I'm… fuck, I'm so close."

Your head lifts and pulls away, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, pupils blown and a glaze covering them. You lean down to his ear, letting your breath puff gently over his skin.

"Cum inside of me, Harry." You whisper, placing a kiss right below his ear.

"Y-yeah? You want my cum?" He fumbles, his breathing becoming more random with every sloppy thrust. "I'll give you… f-fucking all of it!"

Harry grips tighter, bouncing you on himself with a determination you aren't sure if you've ever seen before. He lets out a moan so gritty you know it originated deep in his chest. The sound alone could have you orgasming again if it drew out a few seconds longer. It's accompanied by one last thrust of his hips and a powerful, pleased throbbing of his cock, as his cum coats your walls.

If the dj wasn't blasting anything through the speakers, the sound of your synchronized, labored breaths would be enough to fill the room. You sit up straighter, still straddling Harry's lap, and you finally take in the mess of a man in front of you. His head still rests back on the sofa, his eyes now shut, and a blissful smile stretched across his face.

"That's one way to finish a tour." You chuckle, pushing your palms against the fabric of the shirt now sticking to the drizzle of sweat on his chest.

His palms shoot up to your face, holding it so gently, but with an untapped passion behind his eyes. They flicker to your lips and he dives in for a taste, running his tongue along to part them, and sighing as your own tongue dances along. A pop sounds out as you pull apart, with just enough room for an inhale of air, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"And cheers to the next one."

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luveline · 7 months

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i’ve been re-reading some of the kbd au and was wondering if u would be up to writing a little kbd blurb wherein steve’s being all flirty and silly with reader? idk what it is but flirty kbd!steve specifically rips my heart open he’s so cute when he’s trying to charm r make r laugh <3 thank u as always mwah

thank you my love!! ♡ kbd au

Bethie brings a drink with her as she enters the living room. Steve a few steps behind her, your husband leans in the doorway and winces with every drop she spills on the floor.

The cup is half full when it reaches you, but it is for you. "Here, mom."

"Thank you," you say, tone enthused with bubbly affection. Bethie looks like you rather than Steve, and her smile is a mirror.

"Daddy says, uhm…" She looks over her shoulder at Steve. He nods encouragingly. She turns back. "Dad says to tell you that it's from a man at the bar. Because you look beautiful."

You sniff at the drink, take an experimental sip. It's Steve's version of a virgin margarita, lemonade, orange juice and a spritz of fresh lime juice. "Ooh, so yummy. You want to try?"

Bethie wrinkles her nose. "Will I like it?"

Probably not. "I'm not sure, but it's got bubbles?"

Bethie shakes her head. You don't take it personally, scooping your second eldest up to sit on your thigh. She's not heavy. It's actually really nice when she leans back and uses your tummy as a chair, to be loved like this.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest. "Come here often?" he asks with a wink.

"Only every day, handsome."

"Handsome? You're two timing the poor dolt stupid enough to buy you a drink, you know."

"Poor dolt should've used his eyes." You gesture to either side of you, where Avery, the eldest, sits to your left and Dove, the youngest, lounges at your right. "I'm clearly taken."

"Can't blame a guy for trying. I mean," —Steve whistles, looking you up and down, but he can't commit to his skit, and he cracks a smile— "hot damn, look at you."

"Come here," you say.

Steve's smile turns smug. He dodges the small margarita puddles on the way and leans down to kiss you, his hands on your face, a spritely peck that turns to kisses all over your left cheek. "Was the drink okay?" he asks, rubbing at your cheek with his thumb when he's done.

You meet his eyes. Sugary brown, little flecks of honey crushed as his pupil grows bigger the longer he looks at you. "It's nice. I like your margaritas more than the store bought. Thank you, honey."

"Oh," he hums, kissing you again. "You're welcome."

"Daddy," Dove says simply.

Steve knows what she wants, he can read their wants and needs from less, scooping her up to perch on the end of the couch. She can still fit into the curve of one arm if she tries.

"Let me guess, you wanted a margarita," Steve teases, sliding a hand under her shirt to tickle her tummy.

She laughs but ultimately protests, waiting for Steve to kiss her. He noses at her forehead, kissing her temple softly. "Better?" he asks.

She settles in his arms and turns back to the TV, content.

"See? You're not the only one in high demand."

You sit back and beg him with your eyes to do the same. Steve does so immediately, shoulder to shoulder with you, pressing the tip of his nose to your cheek. Bethie wriggles in your arms and Avery asks about dinner, but for a few silly seconds, it's just you and Steve.

"Love you. You look really, really pretty today. I had to tell you," Steve says.

You reach out to squeeze Avery's hand to show you've heard her question. "I love you too, Stevie. Thank you." You make me feel really, really pretty.

Especially when he says it like that. Three kids and he acts as though you're pretty enough for an urgent telling. Steve would tell you you're even prettier than the day he met you, and he's consistent enough that you genuinely believe it. He's your number one fan, and you're his.

"Takeout?" you ask.

Steve's eyes glow with love. "Did I mention that you're beautiful?"

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venus616 · 2 years

Text

i'm just saying you can do better; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary: tell me have you heard that lately? i'm just saying you can do better... and i'll start hating only if you make me. (lyrics by drake, marvin's room)

translation: you and peter have been best friends for years, you had a crush on him but eventually got over it and he noticed you're about to move on to some other guy. he just had to get something off his chest before you did that

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, alcohol mentions (margarita, beer, shots), vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex, praise kink (if you squint), jealousy, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 5.6k (2.4k is smut LOL)

A/N: once i decided on a title for this fic i couldnt stop humming marvins room sjdjnfjnd but yeah this was fun to write it was a previously abandoned wip (my first one ever for peter actually) that i revised the plot for almost entirely and this came out way better than i expected shout out to my oomf / friend for reading both times

She usually kept to herself and her closest friends, Peter being her best one. And don’t get her wrong, she loved Peter. There were no words for how much adoration she had for him, but unfortunately, she wasn't the only one.

Peter was their college’s most eligible bachelor, how could he not be? Top of his class, the freshmen’s favorite Physics TA and possibly the cutest guy at the school. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily a playboy but it was definitely a step up from his social standing from Midtown High. He enjoyed the attention, he’d be a fool not to. Especially because he’s being noticed as himself and not just when he’s in the suit. So yeah, he went on a few dates here and there. Hooked up with a couple people in the bathrooms of frat parties. Even flirted while he was helping students on their problem sets.

Unfortunately for her, she had to hear all about it afterwards.

Whether it’s from his end, a guy talking about the encounter in the dining hall or a girl talking about it before her organic chemistry lecture. She wasn’t the biggest fan of it, it hurt seeing someone she loved dearly, after realizing how deeply that love ran once he was single again, not manifest into a deeper relationship. Peter had been a core part of her life since high school, Aunt May adored her, her family adored him. She was even there for his break up with Gwen Stacy so she could study abroad.

As they got older she understood those were the things that just came with being the best friend to someone who was as amazing as Peter which is why she didn’t risk changing it. She accepted her place in his life and eventually those feelings of consistent jealousy that would flare during the first few months of their freshman year subsided. Sometimes they would come back up but she pushed it aside as false hope as there were outside parties involved. For example, the few times when her friends (that weren’t also his) accused him of being flirty. Each time, nothing came of it. So she refused to read too much into it until he said it explicitly.

She finally chose to actively move on from this high school crush, that she even started seeing someone from one of her classes and they were planning a third date for this weekend. This, because of course, came up during their hang out with their mutual friends in her and Felicia’s campus apartment. They were hanging out to take the edge off after midterms from last week and crowded in the kitchen counter playing bartender during. This was one of the rare times Peter could make it, so she appreciated the quality time with him.

After Felicia made a small margarita for her, she started asking how it was going with Johnny from the Bioethics course. Everyone’s chatter dropped considerably because everyone was interested in the prospective relationship in bloom with the Johnny Storm. She stuttered before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s fine. I mean, he’s really sweet of course. And fun-”

“So have you guys hooked up?” Felicia cuts off. Peter smirks before looking to her for her response.

She feels her stomach flipping at his sudden attention to her answer.

She plays it off before responding, clearing her throat. “Yeah,” she shoots a grin meeting with the eyes across the room before the room erupts in a light cheer.

“We’re actually gonna see eachother again this weekend and go to his place in the city.” She smiles to herself in excitement. She bites the bottom of her lip as her friends shoot quirked up eyebrow glances her way.

“Well let’s celebrate! You're gonna get some from THE Johnny Storm! Bottoms up!” Felicia announces. The rest of her friends follow suit as she tries to laugh off the burning up of her cheeks and ears, not realizing the news of her sex life would be this exciting.

Peter bitterly smirks before taking a swig of his beer. He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal that Felicia practically had to make a show of it.

He also didn’t understand his annoyance and attempted to play it off. It increasingly became hard as the questions advanced and she continued blushing, describing the last few dates with him. Peter’s ears particularly perked up at the study date she had with him, finding out that she had canceled on him for Johnny through this.

Peter felt a twinge of disappointment in his stomach at this, not knowing if it was friend jealousy or something more. He knows he can’t be exactly mad, since the hangout they had planned was usually offhand, and he more often than not skipped out on those due to Spider-Man activities, simultaneously lying. He couldn’t blame her for eventually reciprocating, but for a boy? He hadn’t felt that let down by her since she admitted to him she thought his Bugle coworker Eddie Brock was cute.

Peter took another swig of his drink distractedly, causing Harry to ask if something was on his mind, but he shook his head quickly, lying to alleviate any worries from his friend.

As the night progresses and everyone decides that they’re the perfect amount of buzzed for a game night. After a few rounds of the card game B.S., she decides Candyland would be perfect, remembering that she has the game in her room. Not wanting to get up, she asks Peter to get it for her underneath her bed while he’s up throwing away his drink.

He obliges and turns to her room door, opening it. His eyes narrow at the picture of him and her next to her bed, accompanied by other pictures he’s taken for their group outings. His pace quickened up across the room and he reached for the frame. Peter quickly turned behind him to make sure no one was coming in to check and turned back to smile at it. He remembered this day fondly, the day they went to the state fair and won her a plushy of her favorite animal. In this photo he noticed how big she was smiling while he was only smiling at her posing happily. Peter used his spidey skills to his advantage and just played it off, to soak into her admiration when he won.

He put it back down as he sensed the footsteps coming behind the door to reveal her opening her room door confused.

“Pete, what are you doing? Hurry up, Harry is suggesting body shots again.” She giggled before sauntering over his body standing in front of her nightstand. He chuckled at the comment before she crouched down to get the game underneath her bed. She rose back up on her feet to meet his eyes, following her.

“You’re being a weirdo,” She said putting her hand on his broad shoulder, with a false concern in voice causing him to laugh.

He inhaled a little before quipping. “Are you ditching me to hang out with this new guy?” His voice raised a pitch to ensure the friendliness of the inquiry, attempting to mask his genuine offense.

She then shrugged, and face suggesting she didn’t know or care what he was talking about. It was that moment Peter officially identified his feelings as jealousy.

“If you’re referring to the one time,” she emphasized ‘one’, making Peter feel guilty enough to hang his head low in response, “I canceled on you then yes.” She rubbed the hand she still had on him on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry and I’ll give you a heads up next time. Now can we go so you can stop acting like such a baby?” She playfully tapped his cheeks with her palm but he caught her hand, holding it a little longer than usual.

Peter drank her gaze onto him as his hand engulfed hers, still remaining on her face. His fingers intertwined with hers as he leaned his face into her hand. Her breath hitched at the affection he was showing and slowly removed her hands from his, worried that one of their friends would see them with the door wide open. She broke eye contact, suddenly finding the boardgame in her other hand much more interesting.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Peter’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and soon after so did his hand as it landed on the small of her back, caressing that area lightly until he found her hand again to quickly lead them way out the room.

The rest of the night was odd to say the least.

Peter’s hands were always grazing hers, or finding themself right on top of her thighs. Whether it was to flag her down from the competitive streak they were both showing from the game or laughing at her reaction to one of his bad jokes, his hands were just constantly on her body.

Similar to other instances where she felt confused by Peter’s sudden affection, she attempted to play it off, but it got to a point where it was causing her heart to beat faster and a familiar heat to form within her stomach.

She let out a silent breath of relief that her friends began to leave, expecting Peter to soon leave with Harry. She went to the kitchen to throw food away but found Felicia looking back at her with a mischievous but apologetic look on her face.

“What?” She raised her eyebrow, ready to exclaim at her for leaving her with a mess when she agreed to set up if Felicia cleaned at the end.

“I have plans, sorry babe, but I will cook and clean tomorrow. I promise!” Felicia then dashed out after hugging her body quicker than she could think to respond, followed by the door closing behind her.

She sighed, slightly annoyed that out of all times for Felicia to mysteriously disappear yet again, that she had to do it the night she would clean up. Quickly, she decided to get over it, said her goodbyes to mostly everyone and noticed Harry and Peter still talking. She decided to ignore it until they would eventually make their exit and started on the dishes while they had their conversation.

“You’re not coming back tonight man?” Harry asked, confusion all over his face.

“No I will. Something just came up, so I'll see you later, yeah?” Peter averted Harry’s eyes and Harry understood, or at least assumed he did. Just another one of Peter’s mysterious disappearances, so he left without any further questions.

Harry quickly said bye to the hostess of the night causing her to look up from the sink when she saw Peter still in their apartment.

“Are you still here, Parker?” She sounded in disbelief, causing Peter to scoff.

“Am I not allowed to spend quality time with my best friend now?” She looked up from the sink to see him clutching his heart as if he had been stabbed, making her shake her head at his dramatics.

“For your information, I wanted to stay,” He added on. She wiped down the sink and washed her hands before walking back into the main room where he had sat on the couch, landing on the spot in front of him.

“I believe it’s called overstaying your welcome,” She bantered, causing him to playfully push her by her shoulder.

“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes as the silence of the apartment filled the air. They both noticed it, realizing whatever was there in her room earlier was still in the atmosphere, especially prevalent now that they were officially alone.

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him,” He puffed, muttering it a bit low compared to his usual volume. She furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed at the insuitation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed pushing his shoulder back, mimicking his movement from earlier.

“No not like that, I just feel like you can do better than him,” Peter let the statement roll off his tongue and she froze in response, attempting to understand what he just said. Her eyes landed on the ground, avoiding him again before she could think of a proper reaction.

She quickly shook off what she thought it sounded like, which she thought was jealousy and just took the safe, protective best friend route.

“Should I have gotten your approval first?” She smirked, looking back up at him, reaching over to hold his hand in the safe way they always have.

Peter took it a step farther, just like how he did earlier, and intertwined his fingers with hers yet again.

“I think you should be with someone who’s more your type you know? A little more thoughtful,” Peter started, rubbing his fingers along the pad of her thumb.

“He’s cool I guess, but you shouldn’t be with someone who’s so cocky,” He stated, making her laugh, causing him to laugh as well.

“See you’re enjoying this. You want me to talk about him and beg you not to see him again?” Peter joked, causing her to gasp out as his accusations.

“Peter, you started this,” She pointed out, making his cheeks turn a few shades brighter at her acknowledgment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it also just sounds like you’re describing yourself.” She comments before she could think, embarrassed at her assertion, but she knew if she didn’t call him out he wouldn’t stop it. The last thing she needed was one of her friends not approving of a guy she was seeing.

“I’m your type?” He clocked her. She didn’t know how to react so she watched his face for any hint of how to proceed. He only smirked with a smile playing on his lips, letting her know how much he was enjoying this.

“Oh shut up,” She smiles playfully before hitting him with her nearest throw pillow, him yelling out a whine, knowing it didn’t hurt.

“For your information,” She started, mocking his voice from earlier. “You’re being just as cocky as him right now.” She firmly stated as he placed the pillow back in lap.

Peter shrugged before readjusting himself to sit closer in front of her, dangerously close. It went back to feeling like 30 minutes earlier when he was all over her body.

“Yeah? But it’s okay when I do it.” Peter teased, leaning his head on the couch watching his presence words fluster her. He could feel her heart picking up its pace and it dizzied him, knowing the type of effect he had on her.

“I didn’t say that,” She argued back, making him draw his breath back in before egging on her claim from earlier.

“But I’m your type,” He stated, she sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it and played into it due to this.

“I guess you are Peter,” She states lightly. If Peter didn’t have his Spidey senses on overdrive right now, he would’ve been convinced by the nonchalant act she put on right now. Instead, he respected her commitment to not allowing him to win, even when she’s flirting back.

“Then how come you’re not going out with me?”

What he said stunned her, she faltered momentarily before shrugging again with a smile.

“You never asked,” She stated, a smile bouncing off of her lips watching Peter form an answer. They decided to skip over the fact that they had been friends for almost 6 years, but she knew that her honest answer was that the mere idea of him going out with her was out of the question because of it.

Until now.

He remained still for a moment and she fixated on where their hands met instead, wondering if they had ever held hands like this before. While she was thinking, and while Peter used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her hair, she realized the answer was never, because it had always been much more innocent. However, tonight was anything but that.

“Can I try something?” His voice finally registered in her ears. Confused at his sudden switch, she nods.

Peter hesitates, going in to kiss her. Peter’s soft lips connect to hers as his hand cups her face. She instinctively deepened the kiss, silently asking for Peter’s permission to do so. Their breaths began to shake from the intensity of the kiss.

She practically lost her bearings when Peter’s hands made their way to her waist, pulling her towards his chest. She held onto his bicep, now flexed, as he hooked his hand underneath her leg to pull her around his hips where he sat.

They were an entangled mess, Peter placing her where he wanted and her obliging, but not coming up for air as she leaned even more into the kiss. Peter chuckled in between the kisses when he eventually grabbed her hips to hover above his own. She groaned at his strength, leaning back in to attack his neck and jaw in kisses.

She eventually started to nibble on his neck, finding his sensitive spot. He pants out, attempting to slow down her movements before bringing her closer.

“Fuck, you’re really going in on me there,” He muttered before he forcefully plopped her onto him causing her to grind on his forming erection, grinning at his acknowledgment. Peter placed his hand on her back and pushed her closer to his chest, nose and forehead pressed against one another with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room.

She leaned into his ear whispering lowly, “You like it.” She readjusted herself on him slightly, to grab on the waistband of his pants, tugging it down before snaking her other hand on the print straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Peter groaned, dick twitching in his pants from simultaneous surprise and arousal. He didn’t realize how different it would be sleeping with a close friend, but also underestimating how she would be in a sexual context.

He threw his head back as she unbuttoned his pants, in disbelief of what was happening right now. When he brought his head back up to watch her movements he saw her kneeled before him on the ground, rubbing his erection through his boxers.

“Fuck, slow down,” He breathed out while pulling his jeans off. Right after, Peter raised his t-shirt right above his abs while she pulled his boxers down, cock semi-hard.

Her eyes glazed over his body, only semi familiar with it whenever their friends went to the beach or the pool. She tried to hide her shock at he’s become exponentially toned since high school and just seemed to be getting bigger despite never actively going to the gym. She chose to pay it no mind and focused on his cock.

Mainly because she hated how attractive Peter looked right now, hair messy, shirt halfway off and looking down at her, closely watching her movements. The attention he was giving her was enough to make her want to shut down immediately. Their eye contact remained intense, both blown out with lust, both because of the compromising position the other was in.

She maintained eye contact and wrapped her hand around his length, slowly jerked her hand around him. When he was hard enough, she placed one hand at the base of his cock and another right on top, running her thumb over the slit a few times once the pre cum came out. She looked down at the wetness pooling out from him and focused on her movements, not wanting to lose this pace he had been receptive to. He was fully erect at this point, almost bucking his hips into her hands getting him off.

Peter was choking back his moans before he finally spoke. “Don’t be a tease,” He muttered.

She giggled and the noise went straight to his dick, causing him to buck once more in her hands.

Without saying anything, she placed the hand that had been on the base of his erection on his thigh and opened her mouth in an obscene way that was unfamiliar to Peter. Before he could take a mental picture of it, she slowly licked the underside of his cock up to his tip and wrapped her lips around him, her eyes never leaving his.

He whispered a curse under his breath from the scene in front of him, realizing this was just the beginning.

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was previously spurting out and she dipped her head lower, dropping the eye contact to which Peter had a brief sigh of relief, becoming intimidated by the intimacy of it all. She shifted her focus on taking him whole and started to bob her head on him, engulfing his length with her mouth.

He started puffing out, mumbling praises that only encouraged her. “Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” She only nodded, attempting to take him deeper while swishing her mouth around him and continuing to bob.

Peter felt a tension forming in his stomach and wanted to tell her to stop but it escaped his head as quickly as it came because of how good her mouth felt. Peter fought the urge to instinctively thrust into her mouth and just cupped the back of her head, pushing the hair out of her face as she continued to gag around him, the wet noises mixing in with his moans.

“Don’t hurt yourself babe,” He said before moving a hand that was around her head to her cheek, making her look up at him. She bobbed her head a few more times, this time more shallowly and popped off his dick, gasping for air.

A trail of her saliva dripped from her lips to the head of his cock making his stomach burst with butterflies from the image of how flushed, and fucked out she looked from the immaculate head she just provided him with. His heart swelled from the action and all he could do was wipe the spit from her chin and cup her face.

“C’mere here,” He mumbled, bringing her to stand on her feet and lean down to kiss him. He kissed her rougher than the first time, presumably from the desire he’s built up from the foreplay. She was still trying to pace her breathing and he could tell so he slowed down, but snaked his hands down to the waistband of her jeans, reciprocating the unbuttoning of her pants like she had done for him.

She broke the kiss to replace his hands with hers and slipped them off. Shortly after she removed her top, revealing herself clad in some lacy underwear and a bra, standing before him.

“No fair, Parker,” She commented. He was briefly confused until she grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it off of him, admiring his toned, relaxed figure in full view now. She kneeled back down on the couch cushions, her warm core hovering above his dick, teasing him as he could feel the heat on him with her knees on either side of his legs.

He brought his hand in between her thighs, attempting to move her underwear to the side but paused at the wetness of her through the fabric.

“So wet,” He tsked, making her smirk when he looked back up to her studying his movements. He placed her fingers firmly against her nub through the fabric, to which she grinded against, needing to feel his large fingers against her now throbbing clit.

“Impatient, too,” He added, finally moving her panties to the side to insert a finger, making her throw her head back. She unconsciously rocked her hip forward at the penetration to which he met by repeatedly thrusting into her before adding another.

Both his index and middle fingers were fucking her, long and slender but big enough to feel the pleasure of the stretch once she had relaxed around him. Peter eventually curled his fingers inside of her and flicked his wrists while inside of her, causing her to squirm on top of him. The sounds of her wetness coincided with her moans, progressively getting more sensitive and impatient.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” She hissed at him, unable to control the steady rocking of her hips on his hands.

“Good,” He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He brought his other thumb to rub her clit, making her movements sputter and breathing erratic as he played with her to her finish.

Peter felt her clenching around him more frequently and took advantage of it to thrust faster, curling his fingers back up to create more friction. She whined out at the change of pace and stimulation added onto her clit before eventually feeling the built up tightness in the lower pit of her stomach release, signifying her finish.

She continued to clench around his fingers as he continued to finger her despite her orgasm. She sobbed at the sensitivity she began to help but couldn’t help but continue rocking her hips into his fingers, riding them once again. She resumed panting out his name, begging him for something but couldn’t form the words.

“What?” He said, barely slowing down the thrusts of his fingers.

“Fuck me,” She responded, hardly audible from the groans surrounding the statement.

He nods, removing his fingers from her core, making her gasp at the sudden absence of him. She made quick work of her underwear, slipping them off her legs while Peter wrapped his hand around his cock, attempting not to completely jerk off to the sight of her.

She returned to her previous position, covering her completely naked form over Peter’s, feeling the tip of him right under to her wetness.

She sank down on him, both wincing at the feeling of each other. All Peter could focus on was the softness of being inside her, her skin, the flesh of her thighs being wrapped around him, the closeness of their chests being pressed up against each other and the brief vulnerability she was displaying by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He felt faint at the presence of her scent while her head was tucked into his neck, combined by the steady sensation of her rocking her hips onto his cock.

“Peter,” She moaned.

“Yeah?” Peter was hardly taken out of his thoughts, answering automatically as he grabbed onto the flesh of her hips to control at the speed he thrusted into her from under.

“You feel so,” She groaned before continuing “So fucking good Pete. You feel fucking amazing inside of me.” She finished before plunging down faster onto him, making him look at her mouth agape. He could feel her clenching even harder and more frequently around him, combined with her wetness from the previous orgasm and just from sucking him off, it was almost too much.

Peter looked down to see where they connected and saw his skin glistening just from her arousal, and felt even more turned on.

“You’re gonna kill me,” He stated mindlessly, still in awe of how sexy she looked right now. In Peter’s point of view, he struggled with deciding what to focus on.

The way her tits bounced in front of his face, the way her ass and thighs felt when they smacked on top of his thighs repeatedly, causing the the jiggle of her body to be even more apparent, or how fucking close she was holding him. She alternated from both her hands clenching into his shoulders, or one hand on the nape of his neck and another pulling on his brown curls.

A bonus was how she sounded moaning his name and a string of praises for how he made her feel.

Of course, she noticed this.

“You like that don’t you?” Her voice caught his attention, barely realizing she was actually asking him a question

“What?” He breathed out, sounding just as fucked out as he looked, the sweat of each other making his hair stick to his forehead.

“When I say nice things to you,” She obliged to Peter’s physical request of her to slow down, which was him just forcing her movements to stop by the way he grabbed her.

“Mmm,” He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch, avoiding her quizzical stare.

“C’mere,” She said, pulling herself forward by pushing her weight on his shoulders and rising from his, now aching, cock.

Peter’s attention was caught, he shook his head in disbelief of her and opened his eyes, still hanging low to hide his irritation that her heat wasn’t surrounding him anymore.

“You’re so cute when you’re upset,” She fake pouted, then proceeded to giggle. Peter didn’t want to find it as cute as he did but he couldn’t help himself.

“You really are a fucking tease, you know that?” He growled before grabbing her by her thighs to lower herself back onto him and raised his hips from the couch to fuck her on his own pace. The force from his strength caused her entire body to rock from each thrust, but she relished in it, moaning out praise for how good it made her feel.

“Peter,” She yelped at a particularly hard thrust. “Just like that,” Peter’s head spun at this.

“Yeah, keep doing that, please,” She begged, fucking begged, Peter to maintain the force he had brought upon her. It was then he knew he played right into what she wanted when she taunted him for his praise kink. (He was then making a mental note of how well she knows him and how he’s probably just a little predictable.)

Peter was practically drooling to see her come apart on top of him like this, he threw his head back in the pillows once again to enjoy the view and moved one of his hands to her clit, putting pressure on her, bringing her closer to her orgasm.

He felt it building up by the way she clenched on his cock and couldn’t contain his moans any more.

“Moan, please I wanna hear you when you cum inside me,” She commented once he let a particularly loud one escape his lips. He was both shocked and embarrassed at the effect she had on him, because he almost came apart immediately at the invitation to cum inside her.

“You sure?” He whined, trying to bring her to finish before him.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there with you,” She said, finding his other hand on her waist and intertwining his fingers with her.

“Please?” Once those words left her lips he was finished. He instantly came inside her, her following right after.

Their orgasms swept them both away, sensitivity coming right after as she struggled to detach herself from him. Peter didn’t allow this and continued to fuck her through both their orgasms, relishing the pain and the pleasure this decision came with.

Her head was back in the crook of his neck when their movements slowed down and they had to catch their breaths.

Once their hearts reached a normal rate and they removed themselves off of each other, Peter broke the silence.

“Are you still going to see him?” He asked rather timidly. She didn’t understand the sudden shyness but decided not to comment on it. She shrugged in response before answering honestly.

“Probably,” She averted eye contact with him, looking at where their hands connected, ignoring their full frontal nudity because this was somehow more vulnerable.

Peter’s heart dropped, he wasn’t expecting that response, nor his reaction to that response. Without thinking about the weight of what he was going to say next, because he hadn’t been doing much of that tonight, he continued.

“What if you go out with me instead?”

She looked him in the eyes again before responding. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. It was a mixture of fear, desire and hope.

Then, it was her turn not to think before she responded.

“Like on a real date?” She realized how that sounded when she said it aloud.

Peter nods, knowing what she meant.

“I meant what I said about us,” He paused, watching for her reaction. She hung onto his words, encouraging him to continue. “I want to go out with you and if I’m your type then what’s stopping us?” He joked. In her head this was so unsurprising because it seemed right up his alley to joke about some offhand comment she made before they literally had sex and laughed, because of how predictable her best friend is.

“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” She inquires, shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. She studied his features again before he answered, watching him turn a few shades of pink.

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I don’t fuck my friends you know.”

“Up until now,” Peter smirked at this comment, she was always so quick to rival his own quips.

He let the silence simmer before responding because he wasn’t sure just how she felt about this, him, or what they just did. He was afraid he had permanently damaged the friendship and wasn’t sure how he was gonna come back from it if that were the case.

So, he asked.

“Is it weird now?” He spoke barely above a whisper.

“What part?” She had to ask before she could answer.

“That we did it backwards.” He exasperated, feeling unsure of himself now that he had to verbalize what he meant.

She shrugged again, this time affectionately, not wanting Peter to get frustrated with her or himself.

“Maybe it can be a good weird,” She affirmed his anxiety by clarifying.

Peter’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrow in excitement.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip before leaning in to kiss him once again.

His hands dropped back down to her waist to bring her in closer as the certainty between them was solidified.

A/N: okay so when i was writing this i imagined comic book f4 johnny storm especially bc of the dynamic he has with peter in the comics (spideytorch my beloved) but when my friend reviewed this she asked if it was chris evans and while that wasn't the intention that made it so much better so just clarifying it wasnt on purpose but if you did that i hope it was fun

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auteurdelabre · 4 months

Text

Something to fight for: holiday vignette

Rating: 18+ (smattering of smut)

Summary: You and Joel return from a holiday party tipsy (and horny).

Warnings: titty sucking!

A/n: wanted to give you STFF fans a little something sweet for the holiday season! I got lots of vignettes coming your way in the new year with these two! Happy holidays y'all!

Masterlist

//////////////

"Joel shhhh!" You whisper as you both stumble into the house on Rancher Street.

"I'm bein' quiet!" Joel exclaims in a loud whisper.

"You two are both being fucking loud," Maria announces with a groan as she struggles to a stand. Tommy is at her elbow helping her over to where you and Joel drunkenly lean against one another.

"You're lucky Sarah is out like a light," Tommy smiles at you and his brother. "Think she had a sugar crash."

"Thanks to this one," Maria says elbowing Tommy lovingly. She takes one look at your bleary eyes and sighs. "I assume the neighbors Christmas party was a good one?"

"Mhmm," you nod with a dopey smile. "They had festive punch."

"Yep," Joel nods, trying to appear sober. "But she mighta overindulged," he says pressing his forehead against your temple

"Me? Who had to stop you from doing Santa baby on karaoke?"

"I woulda sounded good!"

"I know baby!" You slur, cupping his face in your hands. "It's just that you wanted to do it without pants!"

Maria and Tommy giggle, breaking you and Joel from your disagreement.

"I miss those days," Maria says patting her swollen belly. "The second this baby is out I want a fucking margarita!"

"Deal," you say exuberantly.

"Thanks for babysitting Sarah tonight so we could go to the party," Joel says giving his brother a clap on the back. "We owe ya."

"I'll remember that when this little guy arrives," Tommy warns, placing a loving hand on Maria's belly. "Night night guys."

You and Joel wave goodbye to your friends (and technically family) and stay standing braced against the island in the kitchen for a moment.

"It was a nice party," you say smiling.

"T'was," Joel agrees. "I liked those little cheese things."

"Mmmm," your say nodding.

Your eyes fall to a packaged something on the counter and you let out a small squeak.

"I wanna build a gingerbread house!"

"They musta brought it for Sarah."

"I'll get her a new one tomorrow," you promise as you open the glossy packaging. "I want her to wake up to this one!"

"That's a great idea, baby," Joel says making a move towards the bedroom. He stops when your hand snakes around his wrist.

"You gotta help me!"

Joel turns his puppy dog eyes on you. "I'm tired, honey."

"Hi Tired," you say giggling as if that's the funniest thing you've ever said. "I need your help! Please!"

Joel's sleepy smile quickly turns into something more mischievous. His voice slides down an octave as he comes to stand behind you. "And what do I get in return?"

"A happy wife?" You offer with a beam, starting to set up the supplies on the island counter.

"Uh huh," Joel murmurs, his hands going to the hem of your skirt and raising slowly. "What else you got ta' offer me, Mrs Miller?"

Joel always gets more twangy when he drinks. It makes you smile. He also gets very horny and you know exactly what he's up to.

You quickly spin out of his arms, tugging him by the hip to stand next to you.

"Look at all this kit comes with!" You say redirecting his attention to the supplies on the counter. There's the gingerbread walls and roof, a litany of colorful candies, and a bag of white icing.

"Let's get building, Miller."

Twenty minutes and you both drunkenly trying to build this gingerbread house, you admit defeat.

"It looks horrible."

"Nah," Joel says sliding his arm around your waist. "It looks great."

"Joel, the walls aren't even standing up," you pout.

"It's creative."

"The candy keeps falling off," you scowl. "Stupid icing is shit."

"Honey," Joel says nuzzling your temple with his nose. "It's great. Sarah'll love it. It's got candy."

You sigh heavily, leaning against Joel.

"Maybe she can decorate more of it tomorrow. We have some stuff leftover," you say motioning to the candy and icing at your elbow.

Joel can see the disappointment in your sleepy eyes and he gives an indulgent smile. You always get sleepy when you drink.You also look really sexy to Joel when you're sleepy.

Joel reaches to the counter and pops one of the circular peppermint balls into his mouth, sucking loudly.

"Joel!" You admonish. "Those are for S-"

The words die in your throat as Joel tugs down the front of your dress, exposing your breasts to the night air.

"All night I wanted to put my mouth on these," Joel huffs against your neck, hands coming to cup your warm tits. "Looked so fucking good at the party."

His thumbs drift over your hardened nipples, making you squirm. His tongue moves the peppermint into the pouch if his cheek, causing one side to bulge.

"Couldn't wait to get you home," Joel continues, his hips pushing yours into the island. You can feel him hard between you.

You look at your husband with deep need. He looks so fucking handsome, smells so good with his neck spritzed with cologne and his mouth of peppermint.

You watch him raise his fingers to his pouty mouth, fishing the glossy candy from between his lips. You watch in quiet fascination as Joel drags the slick peppermint against your hardened nipples.

"Joel-"

You give a small gasp of delight that turns into a groan as Joel's mouth finds each one, sucking and tasting. Your hands card through his hair as you tilt back, giving into the sensation of his full mouth on your skin, his wide hands kneading your tits, the flick of his tongue against your nipples.

"You taste so good honey," he murmurs against your throat as he pulls his mouth from your breasts.

You give a strangled moan before launching your face at his. You kiss him fiercely. You're hands on his collar as his arms wrap around your middle just before you break from him, face flushed.

"Joel take me to bed," you whimper, pressing gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Please."

"Anything you say, Mrs Miller," Joel smiles, pulling you up into his arms.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms slung around his neck as you tug his mouth back to yours. He kisses so* well.

You're halfway to the stairs when you pull back from his kiss, eyes wide.

"Wait Joel."

"What is it honey?"

"Grab the icing."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #fanfic #pedro pascal #smut #fanfiction #dad joel miller #joel miller

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pixiesfz · 5 months

Text

kyra cooney-cross x reader

plot: you and Kyra used to be best friends and now she's on top of the world and you feel like you're falling behind.

warning: angst, swearing, idk

You sat at the restaurant with a menu in front of you as another waiter came to ask for your order "I'm just waiting for someone" You smiled politely but they just nodded their head and walked away.

You checked your phone again it was 8:30, you had both agreed on 8:00, all those years ago, every Friday. She was hardly ever late. Well that was until after the world cup.

She had thrived and you watched on the sidelines almost every match, she gained attention and you loved that for her, you were even the first person to go to her apartment to congratulate her on her signing with Arsenal.

But now she was busy and even more popular with the fans, you wanted to be so happy for her but it pulled her away from you so you never fought it, you only texted her a couple of times with congratulations and the conversations never lasted long. But you always had your Friday night 'dates' your other friends called them.

It was no secret that the two of you had some feelings towards another and your flat mates bullied you for it non stop. You realized you liked the girl when she got the call up to be in the senior squad for Matildas. She was so happy and her dream had finally come true.

You had a feeling she liked you too but you never acted on it, you were always scared whenever the opportunity came up.

You regrated never telling her because maybe then she would be sitting in front of you right now looking at the menu over and over even when you knew she would just settle with a classic margarita pizza and a sprite lemonade. She wasn't to fancy.

It had been 45 minutes now and you had lost your hope, she wasn't coming and she didn't even send you a text. You felt embarrassed as you sat up and paid for your drink as you had told the workers you were waiting for someone and now you were walking out alone.

It was when you turned the corner of the street you saw the girl you had been waiting for in a frantic state almost running to the restaurant.

"Y/N!" she called out as you walked past her "you were late" you told her, not changing your pace. You felt her go to your side again "Y/N I'm so sorry-"

You breathed in before turning to her "you didn't even bother to text!" Kyra looked down to the floor giving you an opportunity to talk again "where even were you?" you questioned and she was silent again "I forgot" she mumbled and you took a step back.

How could she forget.

For three years you've been doing this. What could have been so adamant on her mind that she forgot that she was supposed to see you.

"Or did you forget about me?"

Your question struck something in Kyra "No I could never-" "No I'm serious" you told her "I'm happy for you I really am but I feel like I'm just something that you're leaving behind, we don't talk as much, we haven't facetimes each other in god knows how long" you ranted

"I'm sorry" Kyra said looking at you but you shook your head "I know 'm not your girlfriend or anything, but I don't want to be another ex friend" you started "we've been through too much for that" you told her before walking away and to your car and driving off.

When you woke up the next morning you didn't know how to feel, did you just fuck up everything? You looked to your phone to maybe see a message from Kyra but instead you saw one from Steph, Kyra's team mate from Arsenal and the Tillies.

Steph: Hey do you know what's wrong with Kyra she seems weird today

Fuck. You ruffled your hair between your fingers and ignored the feeling in your stomach

Y/N: Yep I have a feeling, I'll come over after training.

You didn't want Kyra to feel like this even though it was what she made you feel for weeks on end, but you couldn't give up on her, you couldn't give up on the both of you.

It was late when you finally had the courage to drive to Steph's house where Kyra had been staying before she found an apartment near training. It was dark and the stars were in the sky.

When you knocked on the door Steph was quick to greet you "hey Y/N" she smiled and let you in "hey Steph" you sheepishly smiled as you walked in "Kyra's in the guest bedroom, been stuck in their since training" she sighed and turned to you "you're the only person that I've seen her be so happy with" she pointed out "sorry if I interrupted-" "your fine Steph" you waved her off before breathing in "I'll go talk to her" you nodded before making your way into the guest bedroom.

You hesitated before knocking on the door but did anyway "I'll have dinner later Steph" she called back "It's not Steph" you replied back and Kyra was quick to open the door after hearing your voice "hey Y/N/N" she whispered "Hey Ky" you smiled before letting yourself in and closing the door behind you.

"Steph texted me, said you weren't yourself" you admitted and Kyra nodded "I can't believe I forgot" she told you and you nodded "to be fair I distanced myself a little bit, I didn't want to invite myself to everything whilst you adventured with Arsenal" you shrugged and she looked up at you "I noticed the distance" she told you "I thought you started seeing someone or something"

You laughed "me" you pointed at yourself "never" you shook your head and the girl laughed a little as you sat next to her on the bed. You both of you stayed on the bed in silence before Kyra spoke up

"I didn't just forget yesterday I went out" she admitted and you nodded, it didn't really change anything "with the team?" you asked and she nodded "It started with the team then I got stuck in a conversation with a fan"

"was she cute?" you teased and she laughed "Nah you're cuter" she teased back and you both blushed "what did you talk about?" you asked "Football, my career, treating me better than I had at other clubs, treating me like I was somebody"

"Your getting a fan base Kyra, you play for the Arsenal" you poked her shoulder as she leaned back and came back and leaned her head on your shoulder.

"I wonder if she would've talked to me if I wasn't somebody?" she wondered "I would've" you smiled and Kyra looked up at you.

You just kept your smile as she looked at you "I've always been your biggest supporter" you reminded her "I know" she smiled "and I plan to stay" you shot your eyebrows at her and she nodded "I'd like that...a lot" she laughed and looked back down to her legs.

"Can you stay tonight?" she asked sheepishly and you nodded "of course" you stated and gave her a kiss on the forehead that lingered "always" you said as you walked over to the door "Imma ask Steph though"

"Y/N your making this seem like a sleepover in high school" Kyra laughed and you shrugged "oh well the most eventful stuff happens at high school sleepovers" you said and walked out to Steph, leaving a blushing Kyra behind.

When you came back Kya was pulling out pajama's for you which consisted of her Matilda's jersey and old pajama shorts which you laughed at. "You just wanna see your name on my back" you smiled as Kyra shrugged and just jumped on the bed, you following once you got changed.

Once you got comfortable Kyra turned to you "When I asked you if you were seeing anyone you said never" she stated "what did that mean?" she asked and you looked at her "I'm not sure I guess..." you trailed off "I just had a crush on someone and just never got over it" you said quietly before moving closer to Kyra who subconsciously did the same "what about you?" you asked even more quiet as Kyra's eyes were set on your lips "same thing" she said before leaning down and giving a slight peck on your lips but not leaving as your foreheads stayed together, nothing was said before you leaned i again and kissed her back, it was nice as your lips just felt like they were made for you, when you pulled back you both smiled.

"Yeah I'm not going anywhere" you laughed.

#kyra cooney cross smut #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #alanna kennedy #katie mccabe #matildas #matildas x reader #sam kerr #woso #woso community #woso soccer #woso x reader #caitlin foord #katie mccabe x reader #katrina gorry #sam kerr x reader

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 11 months

Text

Dead Robins Club

Summary: Jason and the boys are in a band and you're the bands social media manager.

Pairing: Photographer!Reader x Drummer!Jason Todd.

4.7k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Rock Band! AU, swearing, bondage with chains, teasing, choking, hair pulling, spanking, object insertion, man handling, pet names, dirty talk, probably something else very horny I forgot.

The music rings through the hall of the dark and atmospheric club, Tim's guitar solo brings the crowd forward, the patrons push the barricade to try and get closer to them. You step closer to the stage, keeping your security guard close as you pace behind the barricade hoping to find the perfect angle for the band's socials. Tim slides out in front of Damian who's belting the lyrics to their latest song so loud you’ll be surprised if he can talk after.

The crowd grows wild, people cheering and dancing behind you as you snap a photo of the two front men singing angrily into the microphone.

"Oh my God!" A woman shouts behind you, "there he is. Fuck, he's so fine," you don't need to turn, knowing that she's staring at the now spotlighted drummer, sweat pouring off his head, the drumsticks twirling in his long fingers, those pretty blue eyes fixed on his drums. The chains on his pants rattling, his studded vest flapping with how fast his arms are moving, his curls plastered to his face with how much he’s sweating.

"Looks like they're going to rush soon," a familiar voice whispers into your ear piece as you click the shutter on your camera. The 3 of them now in the shot, "head back, don't want another incident."

"Two seconds, Dickie. Get my margarita ready." You respond, turning to take a few pictures of the crowd and a few on your phone of the drummer, just for you, before you head backstage.

You meet Dick at the side of the stage, your drink already in his hand as he offers you a seat. "Don't know why they wouldn't let me book a bigger place," he says taking the seat next to you, "this place is packed and everyone on the internet is bummed they didn't get tickets."

"Makes it more exclusive," you shrug, moving your head so you can peer from behind the curtains at the flex of Jason's arms, "plus you know what they're like, they still think their small time."

You and Dick sit together, sometimes getting up to dance when the music compels you. But you're always watching him, the quick way his fingers twirl the drumsticks, how his legs flex as he beats the drums, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead.

His eye catches yours for a moment and he smiles at you. Your heart starts to beat faster, your cheeks getting warm and your legs going gooey as you return the smile. Seeming to notice the effect he's having on you, he throws his favourite pair of drumsticks in the air before catching them and falling back into the song.

The crowd goes wild as the last song of the set comes to an end. Tim and Damian thank the crowd for coming out to see the last show The Dead Robins Club would be performing in this city, before the boys head to the side of the stage towards you.

"Show us the pics!" Tim says coming up beside you and leaning over your shoulder, "did you get the mic toss?"

"I did and I got your power slide," you flick through your reel, showing him most of the pictures you took, all the ones on your official camera at least. The ones on your phone were, are, personal. And you don’t wanna feed Jason’s hordes of thirsty ass fans with the slightly provocative pictures you took of his hands and his pretty face.

"Shame, still none of Jay," he says, slapping his brother on the shoulder, "guess we know who the favourites are big guy"

"A huh," Jason grunts as he passes you, "meet you guys at the hotel."

"You're leaving already?" Dick asks, trying to stop Jason as he starts to pack up his things, "the fans want autographs."

"Like Timmy said, I ain't no one's favourite." He pulls his bag over his shoulder, ignoring Dicks protests, he shoots you a look before he walks down towards where the cars are waiting.

You entertain the boys for an hour helping them get selfies with fans, before Dick announces that it's time to wrap up.

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar?" Dick asks as the boys head out to do their own things, "the night's still young and so are we."

"Nah I’m good. It's been a long day,” you yawn for affect, “Plus I gotta get all these,” you gesture to your camera, “edited and uploaded,” you give him a sympathetic look, “I think I'm just going to go to bed before we have to get back on the plane tomorrow, sorry Dickie"

"Suit yourself. I guess I'll just sit and drink,” he pouts at you, “alone."

"Sure you won't be alone for too long." You joke, giving him a quick hug and heading up the elevator.

You pull out the key card, slipping it into the lock and stepping into the room. A familiar face already waiting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, and his large combat boots kicked across the room, "took ya long enough."

"You know how they are," you shrug off your coat, "Dick still didn't wanna go to bed," you toe off your shoes and step towards him, "I can't just leave him."

"You can," Jason stands, grabbing you and pulling you down onto the couch on top of him.

“But he uses those puppy dog eyes on me and I feel bad.”

“That’s the only trick that guy knows,” he rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist, "just tell him you got a better offer."

"Did I though?"

"Cheeky," he kisses you like he's been waiting all day to get you alone, his hands already clinging to you and starting to peel your clothes away, "I saw you watching me, sweetheart," he finally frees your shirt from your pants and pulls it over your head.

“I wouldn’t, didn’t you hear the boys,” you pull his vest from his back, “No pictures of you.”

"There's always a way for me to check," he smirks into your kiss, his fingers slipping down to your ass, then reaching into your back pocket for your phone and dangling it in front of your face.

“Won’t find anything in there.” you lie, unconvincingly.

“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” he raises his eyebrow at you.

“No,” you grab for it, but he pulls his arm up higher. You jump, and he drops it behind the couch, giving you a knowing look.

“That's what I thought,” his fingers toy with the button on your jeans, “What else are you lying to me about?” he grabs at the band, pulling them down to your hips, "Is my pussy wet for me?"

"I-"

"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" He kisses across your jawline as his fingers sink into your panties, stopping at your panty line, "no, not you. My good girl wouldn't lie to me," his fingers slip down lower meeting with the seeping spot in your panties, "tell me Kitten," he leans back meeting your eyes, "if you got such a better offer, why are you here with me with suck a soaking wet pussy?"

"Coincidence?" You joke, laughing as he lifts you up and your pants fall to the floor.

"Like fuck is it a coincidence," he throw you over his shoulder, "you bloody liar," he slaps you on the ass, "I know how watching me play affects you," he walks, his bicep just far enough away form your pussy go tease you, “bet you’ve got lots of good shots on your phone, don’t you?”

“Nope,” you giggle, your arms attempting to reach his ass, but his torso is so fucking long and thick.

“You're going to pay for that." he smacks you again, his fingers kneading at the tender flesh of your ass.

"Oh, no. How awful!" You start to squirm as he kicks the door to the bedroom open and drops you on the bed.

"First the lying and now the attitude," he tuts as he peels off his black t-shirt, "you poor thing," he unclips the chain from his pants, "You really need some sense fucked into you," he grabs at your hands slinking the chain around them and locking them together behind the bed head, "don't you?" Jason’s soft lips brush over yours.

"Yes."

"Good girl. Now, how should I punish you?" He thinks aloud, watching as you start to squirm when he pulls back from you. His studded belt releases his tight black jeans, "What?" He laughs as your eyes fixate on the way his huge hand is wrapping around his cock, "Do you like watching me play with myself?" He licks his lips, his teeth sinking in when he notices your hips gyrating into the air, "do you need some attention, Sweetheart?"

'Please."

"But you haven't been good," he kneels on to the ground and you feel something cool touch your leg, the metal of the chains biting into your wrists as you strain to get free, "maybe I should coat my sticks on your cum," the cool wood glides up your thigh before slapping down onto your clit, "at our next show I'll be able to smell you on them," his eyes lock with yours, "wouldn't that be a nice treat for me, Kitten?"

"Yes, please," you try to move, but he just taps the drum stick onto your clit again, "that'd be so hot."

"Wouldn't it just," the tip of the drumstick slips down from your clit, dipping into you and you can't help the way your back arches into it, "so needy for me, aren't you Kitten?" The drumstick goes deeper, angling it up so it sweeps right over your g spot. Jasons free hand rests on your stomach as his thumb rubbing into your clit in just the way you like as he thrusts the stick into you. His eyes torn between watching your face and watching his favourite thing disappearing into his favourite person.

"Jason.”

"Does my girl need more?" He teases you, "need something bigger?"

"I do.”

"Show me," he chuckles, pulling the drumsticks from you with a pop and licking along its length, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. His face forlorn, torn between wanting to taste you and how bad he wants to fuck you, "show me where you want me Kitten?"

You whine, your hands jangling against the chains, tugging at them as you glare at him.

"Oh, you can't? You poor thing," his cock slaps on top of your pussy, "keep squirming for me Kitten." He leans over your body, his lips finally meeting yours, "I love when you're needy for me like this. So desperate," his hand grips your face, "it's pathetic."

You try to pull your face from his grasp, but he holds you still. Your eyes start to wander until his nails dig into your cheeks, "keep those pretty eyes on me," you feel his cock slip back, the huge head pushing, teasing at your core, "you ready?" His head circles you, "nod or shake your head for me, Kitten. I know words are hard for you when you're like this."

You nod, your legs wrapping around Jason's thick thighs. Trying so hard to pull him closer, even if you know it's useless.

"Good girl. I can feel your legs tightening on me," he releases your face, his hand softly brushing your cheek where you imagine his claw marks are, "pull me in."

You tighten your legs even more, Jason moves closer, his cock pushing up against you until it starts to spread you, stretching you out as he sinks deeper and deeper inside you. You can’t help the moans that escape your lips as your pussy becomes so fucking full you think your brain might explode. “Breathe,” his fingers pull your bottom lip from your teeth, “Sweetheart, take a breath for me,” he starts to withdraw himself, not really restrained by the grip of your legs, “Kitten,” you suck in a breath, the overwhelming fullness turning your brain off for a second there.

“I’m breathing,” you reassure him, trying to pull your hands from the chains, “Please don’t go.”

“Do you want me to unchain you?” his eyes are so soft, one hand still on your face while the other traces little hearts into your thigh, “Is it too much?”

“I’m good, now. I just needed a minute,” you reassure him, “I promise, it’s just been-”

“A while, yeah I know.”

“Can we talk about it after, Jay?” you try to move, but he’s so heavy on top of you, “Because right now, I’d really like you to move.”

“Needy,” his fingers tighten on your thigh, pushing it back up towards your chest, “Impatient,” his soft caress on your cheek stops as his hand slips around your throat, “My good Kitten.” He starts to thrust, his hips meeting yours with every inwards motion. His pelvis grinding into your clit when he leans down to capture your lips with his. “I missed this,” he moans into your mouth, his fingers tightening in your hair while your legs cling to him.

“Missed you.”

“I’m right here, always.”

“Not close enough,” you thrust back up, “Closer, please.”

“Never been close enough to you,” Jason mewls, “You’re so fucking warm, Kitten.”

“Fuckin hot when that spotlight hits you.” you feel your pussy clench down on him when he smirks down at you.

“Not as beautiful as you do, shrouded in the dark of the clubs,” he brushes the hair from your face, smoothing it back behind your ear. The tingle tickles, jolting your body up and you feel his cock brush over your g spot.

“Jay, right there-” you moan into his ear, “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping until you cum on me,” his hand reaches up, releasing your hands from the chains with a snap of his fingers, “But I need your hands on me.”

Your wrists ache, but your hands quickly find their place in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours, kissing him deeper and sinking your teeth into his lip. With one hand in his hair, you slip the other down to his shoulder, bringing his chest flush with yours. The sweat of your bodies mingling as you both moan into the kiss.

Your eyes open when he pulls back from you, his stubble brushing against your cheek, his moans filling your ears, “You’re fucking gripping me so tight, Kitten. You getting close?” he bites down on your neck, “I know you are.”

“Yes, I’m so close, Jay.” the animalistic sound that seems to reverberate from his throat is what sends you over the edge, the primal way he turns from somewhat sensual to fucking insane is something else. You can’t stop cumming, his cock somehow getting harder and deeper within you with every thrust and that sound just won’t stop. You almost question whether it's you making that noise, but when he starts to chant your name in your ear and you know he’s close.

“Jason.” you whisper hoarsely as your second round of pleasure starts to build inside you, you feel his cock throb, “Jason,” it’s twitching inside you, bouncing off your insides and making a smoothie out of them, “Jason.”

“Fuck me, Kitten,” his nails dig into your, his lips reaching for yours to quiet the scream he lets out into your mouth. Jasons cum paints your insides, but he doesn’t stop fucking you, “I don’t want this to end,” he pants between cries of pleasure, “I want to fuck you forever, to be inside you always.”

You don’t even realise you’re cumming again until your legs start to cramp and your mind goes numb, the thickness of Jason's cock slowly receding from you and his fingers replacing it. Gently gliding up and down as you twitch out the last of your orgasm. “You look beautiful like this. Carefree and relaxed.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead before falling down beside you and pulling you under his arm. “Take a deep breath.”

You do, snuggling into his side as you try to match his breathing. Your leg wrapping over his to try and leech some of his warmth. “I can breathe on my own, you know.”

“Yeah, but I know I take your breath away with my dashing looks.”

“True,” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him, “You’re very pretty,” you bouncing one of his curls, the white one, it’s your favourite.

“Not as pretty as you, Kitten,” he takes your hand. Holding it in his, his thumb grazing over your wrists, “Are your wrists ok?”

“They’re fine, a bit tender.”

“I’ll rub some of that coconut cream on them in a sec,” he gives them each a small kiss, “Just wanna cuddle you a bit longer.”

“I missed this,” you sigh, putting your arm over him and pulling yourself up so you're laid out flat on top of him, “tour buses suck. Maybe we should run away?”

“I wish, could you imagine. Dick would have a fucking heart attack. But I get what you mean and the next few weeks aren’t going to be any better.”

“We’ll have to get better at sneaking around.”

“You will.” he says, like he doesn't, “You think I’m the only one who knows you take pictures of me on your phone to jerk off to?”

“What?” you try to sit up in alarm only for Jason's arm to hold you close.

“Don’t worry about it, but Kitten,” he whispers, bringing your lips down to his, “tour buses are small, maybe next time, don’t moan my name in the middle of the night.”

Taglist: did I forget you? let me know in your most sarcastic typeface

@littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics

@lovelyrissa

Do you want to be on the everything Jason taglist? firstly, why? and nextly, let me know.

#jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd #jason todd fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood x reader #x reader #red hood fanfic #Band!au

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tigertales9 · 1 year

Text

Necessary Roughness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: It's been exactly a year since the Bengals Super Bowl appearance against the Rams. This fic is traveling back in time to 2/13/22 to relive some of those moments, both good and bad.

Location: Bengals Super Bowl after-party at Pauley Pavilion on the UCLA campus (with a few flashbacks to SoFi Stadium).

A/N: I'm in my Super Bowl feels and decided to churn out a little something to make me feel better. Fair warning: The smut is smutting. There's a 99% chance I'm going to write a part 2 for this, but it'll be a minute (more like a month) since I'm slow as hell.

Part 2 is now up : Necessary Roughness II

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

You take a sip of your margarita, throwing occasional glances at the stage where your man is singing and half-ass gyrating with Kid Cudi.

"This marg is kinda weak," your best friend announces. "Like lime kool-aid with a tiny splash of tequila."

"Yeah, it sucks," you nod in agreement, rolling your shoulders before thinking back over the past several hours.

The Super Bowl did not go the way you wanted. The temperature was 82 degrees at kick-off, second hottest on record. "This ain't football weather!" seemed to be the battle cry of the Bengals fans in your section at SoFi Stadium. It all went down hill from there. The o-line couldn't block for shit, serving Joe up on a platter for a Super Bowl record 7 sacks and a ton more pressures and hits. You shake your head when you remember how scared you were on that one really awful hit. With 11:38 left in the game, Joe was absolutely hammered to the ground, immediately grabbing his good knee and grimacing in pain. You held your breath until he finally got to his feet and limped off the field, refusing medical treatment. You held your breath on every play after that as well, absolutely terrified that he would get another gruesome injury like he did in his rookie season.

"Hey, you want another crappy drink?" Your bestie's voice pulls you out of your anxious recollection for a second. "Uhhh, yeah. Thanks." She nods her head and waves the bartender over as you slide back down memory lane.

Even with everything that went wrong, the Bengals still damn near won the game. It took a sketchy holding call with less than 2 minutes left to win it for the Rams. "Fuck 'em," you whisper, taking a sip of your fresh drink as you think about the look on Joe's face as you greeted him briefly in the tunnel after the game. You bite your lip when you think of the pain in his eyes.

"This drink is stronger," your bestie chirps, giving you a thumbs up as the music hits a crescendo before slowly grinding to a halt as Kid Cudi's set ends. "Much stronger," you smile, taking another sip while searching the stage for Joe; he knew where you were -- on the far back wall at the makeshift bar -- so you knew he'd eventually make his way to you.

You continue to sip your drink as your best friend chatters in your ear. "This is kind of a weird place to have an after-party," she states. "What's it called again?"

"Pauley Pavilion," you answer. "It's really close to where they guys are staying."

"Cool," she says, swaying in her seat to the fairly subdued DJ set that's just started up. "Are they gonna have another live set?" she asks, "or just this DJ stuff?"

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out in a bit." You pat her leg and give her a smile. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gina."

"Me too," she grins, looking around at the other folks posted up at the bar. "Doesn't seem like very many WAGS came."

"They're mostly up front by the stage."

"Oh, that makes sense."

You take another sip of your cocktail before letting your mind wander a bit.

You didn't want to come to the after-party, but you knew you needed to support Joe who really didn't want to come. When he'd locked eyes with you in the tunnel at SoFi, your stomach dropped at the look on his face. You were devastated for him, but you were also really glad he seemed to be in one piece, even though he was slightly favoring his 'good' knee. You'd waited for him to greet his parents before stepping forward to hug him. "I love you," you'd murmured against his sweaty neck, feeling his arms tighten around you as he returned the sentiment. His eyes were glassy as he stepped back and captured your gaze. "You're still coming to the after-party, right?" he'd asked, grimacing for a second while shifting his weight onto his hurt knee before quickly shifting it back. You'd dodged the question. "How's your knee?" He'd shrugged. "Prob just sprained. I'll get an MRI when we get back home."

You smile to yourself when you remember him leaning down until his nose was almost touching yours.

"Babe, I need you to focus. Are you coming to the after-party?" You'd grinned at his bossy tone. "Yes, sir. Your parents aren't coming, but Gina is coming with me. I need to stop by the airbnb first to shower and change clothes. I'm sweaty and gross." He'd given you a quick kiss. "You're never gross," he'd whispered, waving to a team employee who was trying to get his attention. "Gotta go," he'd said, slowly backing away from you. "Text me when you get to the party."

You sigh as a loud burst of laughter pulls you back to the present. A few seconds later, you almost jump off of your barstool when you feel a big hand squeeze your shoulder then slide under your long hair to rest on your neck. "What the hell?" you snap, throwing a nasty look at the offender before realizing it's Joe. "Oh shit, Joe, you scared the hell out of me," you laugh, pressing a hand over your racing heart. "I thought you were some strange perv." He grins at the look on your face. "Nope, just a familiar perv," he teases, giving you a wink. "Good game, Joe," Gina chirps, smiling when Joe makes a stank face. "I thought y'all should've won." Joe heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "It is what it is," he mumbles, giving Gina a smile to soften his abrupt words.

You squirm in your seat as Joe shifts his gaze back to you, giving you a slow up-and-down look while licking his lips. "I like your outfit," he says, reaching a hand out to finger the slinky fabric of your mini skirt. "Thanks," you whisper, glad you'd opted for the flirty circle skirt paired with a white v-neck tee, cognac leather knee boots and a matching lightweight leather jacket.

Joe leans in close. "I've got something to show you."

"Okay," you grin, giving him an expectant look.

He shakes his head. "Not here. It's behind the stage."

"Oh," you mutter, your eyes going wide at the wicked look on his face. "I can't leave Gina by herself," you say weakly.

He gives you a soothing smile before looking at Gina. "I'll bring her back in like 30 minutes, okay? Just stay here and don't move."

"No prob," Gina says, taking a loud slurp of her cocktail while giving you a knowing smirk. "Take your time."

"C'mon," Joe orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the throng of people, keeping his head down so he won't be recognized. You follow close behind, breathing a sigh of relief when you eventually find yourself in a mostly-empty hallway just behind the stage. "Where are we?" you whisper, eyes going wide as Joe opens a door and ushers you into a pitch-black room. "It's a storage room," he answers, flipping the light switch before locking the door. He turns to face you, the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling providing just enough light to see his heated look. He strips his jacket off as you take a quick glance at your surroundings -- mostly boxes stacked up against the walls. You toss your purse on top of a large box quickly followed by your jacket, licking your lips in anticipation as Joe closes the distance between you.

"How did you find this place?" you giggle.

"I asked one of the security guys if there was a private room I could use."

"Wait," you whisper. "What if he hid a camera in here?" Joe stops in his tracks and looks around the room before looking back at you. "Shit, can't risk that," he mutters, his voice husky with desire tinged with disappointment.

Damn, you think to yourself, trying hard to keep your own disappointment from showing. Joe takes in the look on your face and quickly makes a decision. "We don't need light," he states, placing his big hands on your waist and lifting you up and to the side before setting you down in front of a stack of boxes. He takes a few steps back and tilts his head. "Back up a little," he directs, giving a thumbs up when you take a couple steps back, your ample ass hitting about halfway up the top box. "Perfect," he murmurs, turning on his heel and striding toward the door, locking eyes with you as he reaches for the light switch. "You done manhandling me?" you laugh. "Just getting started," he growls, something primal flashing in his eyes before he flicks the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness.

You blink your eyes a few times, trying and failing to make out his shape in the pitch-black room. "Uhhhh, Joe? Where are you?"

"Right here," he answers, not more than a foot away from you. You reach both hands out and encounter his muscular chest, flattening your palms against him as he slowly closes the distance between you, backing you up against the stack of sturdy boxes. You feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his scent -- clean with a hint of spice. "It's so dark," you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive when you feel him drop a kiss on your neck. "Totally dark," he purrs, latching his lips onto your sensitive skin and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You whimper at the delicious sensation, suddenly aware of how loud you sound in the semi-silence.

"Are they gonna play more live music or just this half-ass DJ stuff?" you whisper, jumping as the next live set starts up. You feel Joe's gruff laugh against your neck. "Now we can be as loud as we want," he murmurs, sucking hard on the delicate flesh just behind your ear.

You close your eyes as he continues to tease you. You can feel the heavy bass from the speakers vibrating up through your legs, syncing up with the throbbing pulse beating in your chest … your neck … between your thighs. You slide your hands from his chest down to his waist and pull him closer, biting your lip as he cuffs his long fingers around your wrists, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before slowly running his hands up your bare arms. "You have chill bumps," he whispers. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm burning hot," you moan, a little embarrassed at how needy you sound. There's a pause in the music. You hold your breath and count 2 - 3 - 4 before you viscerally feel the beat drop; a moment later Joe's lips crash down on yours, zero finesse just pure need. You grab his shoulders and hold on as he devours your mouth, his tongue thrusting and tangling with yours to the sultry, thumping beat.

After a minute, you taste the metallic tang of blood just before Joe breaks the kiss. "That's my blood," he breathes. "Sorry. Forgot my lip got busted during the game."

"Does it hurt?" you whisper.

"No. But you're probably grossed out by . . ."

Before he finishes his sentence, you cup a hand behind his neck and pull him back down, sliding your tongue in his mouth as his throaty groan vibrates against your lips. You reach your other hand down to his crotch, sliding your thumb up and down his prominent erection through his jeans several times before flicking the button open and lowering the zipper. You grab his waistband and give a tug, groaning in frustration when he places his big hands over your much smaller ones, stopping the downward progress of his jeans. "I need you in my mouth," you whine, going completely still when you feel his lips nestled against your ear. "Ladies first," he purrs, nipping your earlobe while sliding a hand under your skirt to cup your lace-covered crotch. You feel liquid heat flood your core as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit. "So wet for me, baby," he groans. "I need to taste you." He gives your earlobe another nip before dropping to his knees at your feet.

You reach down and place your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself in the sea of darkness. I feel like I'm floating, you think to yourself, squeezing your eyes closed when you feel his hands slide under your skirt, long fingers grasping your thong before slowly pulling it down. You grab a handful of your skirt and pull it up, tucking it into your waistband to give him easier access. You steady your hands on his shoulders again, breathless with anticipation for what's to come.

"Shit," Joe grumbles, making your eyes fly open. "What is it?" you ask, looking down as if you can actually see what's going on. "Panties are stuck on your boot zipper," he gripes, trying to delicately untangle the thong for several seconds before giving up. "Fuck it," he growls, ripping the scrap of lace in half and tossing it to the side. "Spread your legs for me," he orders, purring in approval when you widen your stance. You feel his hot breath on your crotch and you bite your bottom lip, bracing yourself for the feel of his mouth on your bare skin.

A second passes … and then another. You feel like you're on a roller coaster, inching up the last few feet of track before plunging over a steep drop; your body is already anticipating the fall, craving that out-of-control feeling but held back by his hesitation. You look down into the inky blackness, the sound of your hammering pulse beating in your eardrums louder than the music pulsating through the wall behind you.

You gasp his name when you finally feel him press a kiss against your clit, your core clenching hard as he follows the kiss with a delicate puff of breath. "Please?" you beg, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he licks a long swipe up your slit before plunging inside, no more teasing, just tongue-fucking you with deep, steady strokes.

He eventually drags his tongue up to your clit, teasing you with delicate licks followed by harder sucks until you're begging for release. "Don't stop!" you whine, biting your bottom lip when he slides two fingers into your slick heat, curling them to bullseye your sweet spot. You make a noise that's half-moan half-scream as your climax hits, hissing in pleasure as he continues to tease you. "My legs are gonna collapse," you whimper. "I've got you," he soothes, his hands gripping your waist to hold you up as you gasp for air.

After taking a minute to catch your breath, you slide your hands on top of his and remove them from your waist. "My turn," you whisper, dropping to your knees, hitting the floor a lot harder than you meant to. Gonna have bruises, you think to yourself, reaching forward as you hear Joe stand up and push his jeans and underwear down. His cock feels hot and heavy in your hands as you circle your thumb over the velvety head, sliding the precum in concentric circles before replacing your thumb with your tongue. You tease him with delicate licks and sucks before running your tongue up and down the length of his shaft, peeking up at him through your long lashes before you remember he can't see you. You usually maintain eye contact when sucking him, knowing it drives him crazy; but here in the absolute darkness you're able to focus on the feel and the smell and the taste of him.

You close your eyes and open your mouth, taking him about halfway in before stopping, teasing him a bit before taking him deep. You both groan when his tip brushes the back of your throat, and you push forward, knowing you're gonna gag but needing to take him deeper. You feel your eyes start to water as Joe places a big hand on the back of your head, his deep voice murmuring filthy praise as you worship his thick cock. Your core contracts at the slightly musky smell of him, causing you to moan. You hear Joe hiss at the added sensation, his hand fisting in your hair as you moan again, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. "That's so good, baby," he grits out, "but I wanna cum in your tight little cunt."

You pull off of his cock just as he reaches down and hooks both hands under your armpits; he easily lifts you up, purring his approval as you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock already buried deep inside you before he sets your ass on the storage box behind you. You grab onto his shoulders and hold on for the ride as he immediately starts thrusting; you throw your head back, hitting it against the wall. Ouch! you think briefly before losing yourself to the sensation of Joe's thick cock pounding into you.

There's a brief break between songs, and you're captivated by the luscious sound of your flesh slapping together before the next song starts. Joe immediately gets into the rhythm of the new song, rolling his hips forward to the beat in a way that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. Shock waves of pleasure shoot up your spine with each hard thrust and you feel the delicious tension building deep inside you.

He leans down and presses kisses on your chin and your cheek before finally hitting your lips. He catches your whimpers and moans in his mouth before sliding his tongue inside, groaning when you give it a hard suck. "So hot tasting my pussy on your tongue," you moan against his slick lips, sucking his tongue back in your mouth then gasping when his next thrust bottoms out. "Jesus," he hisses, sliding a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as his hips snap forward. "I'm close," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat as your climax hits; he gives two more hard thrusts then follows you over the edge.

You suck air into your lungs as fast as possible, more than a little lightheaded in the aftermath of your mind-blowing orgasm. You hear Joe gasping for breath and smile into the darkness. At least he's just as wrung out as me, you think to yourself.

"You okay?" he finally wheezes, his breath warm on your neck.

"Yeah, aside from the bruised knees and cracked skull."

"Cracked skull?" he asks, running his hand over the back of your head.

"I'm exaggerating," you chuckle, moaning as he massages your scalp with his nimble fingers. "I bumped my head on the wall."

"Did you hit it hard? Why didn't you say something?" he asks, the concern in his voice making you smile.

"Because I was getting railed by this tall, hot stud with a perfect cock and I didn't want that to stop."

"Fair enough," he chuckles.

"How's your knee?" you ask.

"Just fine," he mutters, pulling up his underwear and jeans. "Sorry I was a little rough."

"You were amazing," you sigh, clinging onto him as he lifts you off the box and sets you on your feet. "Damn, my legs are shaky," you laugh as you sway against him; he holds you for a minute, giving your legs time to get decently steady.

"You good?" he finally whispers, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah."

"Stay right here," he says. "I'm gonna go turn on the light.

"Okay." You untuck your skirt and let it fall back down your thighs. "Who knew having sex in a pitch-black room on a stack of boxes while almost fully dressed could be such a sensual experience?" you muse, locking eyes with Joe when he flicks the light back on. He smiles and gives you a wink. "Everything with you is a sensual experience."

"Thanks, babe," you say before pointing at the floor. "Are those my shredded panties?" He makes a sheepish face while scooping up the scraps of lace. "I got a little carried away," he mutters, eyes going wide as he looks at the ruined tiger-striped thong. "Oh no! These are my favs," he whines, looking at you with a pouty face. "Relax, I have another pair at home just like them," you soothe. "Plus, I can always order more." He nods his head as he grabs his jacket and stuffs the thong remnants in a pocket. "Order like 50 of 'em," he demands.

"Yes, sir," you laugh, digging in your purse for your pack of wet wipes and a fresh pair of panties. You quickly reach under your skirt to give your crotch a wipe before gingerly stepping into the panties. You hear Joe chuckle and you shoot him a glance, noting that he's staring at the ceiling with a wistful smile on his face. "What are you thinking about?" you ask, pulling a compact out to touch up your smeared eye make-up.

He rolls his shoulders a few times before meeting your gaze. "I'm thinking … the bad news is I lost the Super Bowl. But the good news is I made an amazing memory that'll last a lifetime."

"Being onstage with Kid Cudi?" you ask.

"What?" he furrows his brow. "Oh yeah, that too, but I was talking about this," he says, waving a hand toward you. "Sex in total darkness was crazy intense," he continues, a dirty smile gracing his pretty lips. "Maybe we should get some blackout curtains for our bedroom so we can recreate it every now and then."

"Sounds good," you agree, tossing the used wipes in a trash can and returning his smile as you walk toward him. "I also think you'd look really hot in a blindfold," you tease, giggling when his eyebrows shoot upward. "Ohhhh yeah, that sounds good," he mutters, his active imagination already conjuring up dirty visuals.

"Now that I think about it," you continue, "why haven't I had you in a blindfold in all the years we've been together?"

He gives you a cocky smirk. "Cause I'm a bossy motherfucker who likes to call the shots in bed?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, that's why." You watch him for a few seconds, grinning at the blissed-out look on his face as he stares into the distance. "I'm ready to go," you say, breaking into his fevered musings.

"Hold on," he sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm still imagining that blindfold action."

You shake your head at him. "We just had sex and you're already thinking about it again?"

"Obvs," he chuckles. "It's your fault for being so damn hot." He grabs the doorknob then pauses. "Listen, I wanna say something," he states, turning to face you.

"Okay."

"You see this smile on my face?"

"Yeah."

"You did that. On the shittiest day of my life, you made me smile." He leans down and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. "You make everything better," he continues, his voice cracking a bit as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your eyes well with tears as you return his hug. "I love you," you whisper, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. "Love you, too," he sighs, burying his face in your neck while you run your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

After several minutes he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent before standing up and locking eyes with you. You wipe a stray tear as it slides down your cheek, searching his face to gauge his mood. He wipes a tear off his cheek and gives a pitiful sniff before speaking.

"So you gonna do the blindfold thing for me tonight?" he croaks, deftly jumping back as you swing your purse at him, just missing. "Boy, you're giving me emotional whiplash!" you snap. "Crying one minute and horny the next!"

"I've been horny the whole time!" he argues. "The gratitude and the love and the tears just bubbled up on top of the horniness!"

He delivers that last line with such an earnest expression that you can't help but laugh. You take several deep breaths before speaking. "Listen," you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "When you finally get home tonight -- probably around 7:30 or 8:00 -- you're gonna be dead tired. You're gonna want to eat dinner and crash not get your freak on."

"But it's Valentine's Day," he pouts, poking his plump bottom lip out for maximum sympathy. You check your watch. "It's well past midnight, so it's been Valentine's Day for a while." You gesture at the stack of boxes y'all had used and abused. "That dirty little romp should count as our V-Day action." He's already shaking his head before you finish your sentence. "Absolutely not!" he argues. "That was post-Super-Bowl-loss sex. No way that counts for V-Day."

"We'll see," you mutter, kind of surprised at how adamant he's being. "Right now I need to know what you want for dinner? I'll get home a couple hours before you, so I'll have plenty of time to make us a nice meal."

He gives you a cheeky look. "I want the blindfold."

"Babe, I need you to focus," you snap, echoing his words from earlier. You point a finger in his face. "When you get home tonight what do you want to eat?" He gives you a wicked grin and opens his mouth to answer; you quickly press a finger against his lips. "Don't say pussy," you order, smiling when he heaves a dramatic sigh. "Way to kick a man when he's down," he grumbles. "Oh hush," you chuckle. "I just want to make sure you get a good meal and get tucked into bed, with or without a blindfold."

"With," he insists, grinning at the exasperated look on your face. "Listen, I know I'm gonna be tired, so you'll have to do most of the work. Are you okay with that?" he asks, giving you a pleading look that you can't say no to.

"Do I get to call all the shots?" you ask.

"You can call most of the shots," he states, sinful lips curling up in a smile as you narrow your eyes at him. He gives you a dirty wink before continuing. "I mean, I've got a few ideas."

"Oh, you've got a few ideas?" you snark, rolling your eyes as you reach for the door handle. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He shrugs and gives you an innocent look.

"Bossy. Mother. Fucker." you say fondly, shaking your head as you sling the door open, giggling when Joe gives your ass a playful smack.

"You know you love it," he teases, his deep, throaty laugh like music to your ears as y'all walk back toward the crowd.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine

923 notes · View notes

russiawave · 9 months

Note

What is ur favorite russian literature ?

School made reading classic russian literature feel like torture for most russians (me included) so I'm not a big fan of it.

here's a list of books for the basic school program if you're interested.

"Master and Margarita", "Heart of a Dog", "The White Guard" etc by M. Bulgakov.

"A Hero of Our Time", "The Novice" etc by M. Lermontov,

"Crime and punishment", "The Idiot", “ The Brothers Karamazov”, “The Gambler” etc by F. Dostoevsky,

"Fathers and Sons", "Mumu" (don't read it if you love animals, you'll cry for a week) etc by I. Turgenev,

"Eugene Onegin" and all of the work by A. Pushkin,

"War and peace", " Childhood, Boyhood, Youth", " Anna Karenina" etc by L. Tolstoy,

"Dead souls", "Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka", "The Government Inspector", "Taras Bulba" etc by N. Gogol,

"Woe from Wit" by A. Griboyedov,

"Oblomov" by I. Goncharov,

"The Cherry Orchard", "Kashtanka", "The Man in the Case" etc by A. Chekhov

"The Garnet Bracelet" by A. Kuprin

"The Storm", "Without a Dowry" by A. Ostrovsky

"Poor Liza" by N. Karamzin

"And Quiet Flows the Don" by M. Sholokhov

"The Lower Depths" etc by M. Gorky,

"The Minor " by D. Fonvizin

+ everything by poets of the silver age such as Sergey Esenin, Alexander Blok, Mikhail Kuzmin, Osip Mandelshtam, Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak, Marina Tsvetaeva, Velimir Khlebnikov, Vladimir Mayakovsky etc.

306 notes · View notes

hoodharlow · 9 months

Text

Was That So Hard

AN: jackman......

Requested? Not really but my bby @sativachilombo sent me an ask and I was 😗😗😗

Requested? Jack being corny as hell, mentions of smut but no actual depictions and Miriam getting drunk 🤭

Word Count:

Miriam reached to her Fendi bag and pulled out her sunscreen. She squirted some on her legs and rubbed them before doing the same on her arms. She swapped the sunscreen body for the face balm sunscreen and rolled some on her face. She pulled out her pomegranate lip balm and dabbed some on her lips. She checked herself out once more and saw the hair claw holding onto dear life so she took it off, knowing that she should have pulled her into a bun. Hair claws never worked with her unruly curls.

She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself to walk over to the sun. She was sitting with Maggie and the girls from Jack's friend group when he waved her over. She handed Diana her bag. As she walked to the field tied the cashmere sweater around her shoulders so she would look more out together. She was wearing a simple white top with denim shorts and some Prada loafers. She was more dressed for the country club rather than a kickball game.

"What took you so long?" Jack asked.

Miriam didn't answer him right away. She moved him so his back was facing the sun, blocking the sun for her. "What?"

"Run some passes with me." He said.

"I'm wearing loafers." She said, holding her leg out.

"I've seen you kick a ball in heels." He placed his hands on his hips.

"Fine," she sighed dramatically. "But we going to the shade."

Jack nodded. He followed behind her, taking in her ass in her shorts. He reached behind her and hugged her, lifting her up. He bent his neck and kissed her face.

"Jack!" She squealed, giggling.

He tossed her in the air so when he caught her she was facing him. Miriam giggled again and wrapped her arms around him, leaning down to kiss him. They were both aware that this was the most PDA they've ever done. Even more knowing Jack's fans were in the stands watching and recording his every move. They pulled away and Jack grabbed the nearest red ball.

He kicked the ball to Miriam. She caught it with the side of her foot and bounced on the top of her foot then kicked it up to her knee. She bounced the ball on her knee and did the same.

"You know you're supposed to kick it back, right?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Ten," she kicked the ball back at him, but he didn't catch it.

Miriam giggled watching him jog for the ball.

Jack came back and tried to do the same tricks she did, but failed. So he stuck with the simple bounces. They passed the ball back and forth for a while before Jack had to go with his team.

Miriam went to sit back with the girls. She hugged Taylor Rooks. They only waved at each other in passing, not properly greeting each other because Taylor was interviewing. Miriam's mood was quickly soured when a woman from the opposite team walked up to Jack with her hands clasped behind her back. She bounced on the balls of her feet, giggling extra hard at whatever Jack was saying. She wanted to yell 'he's not as funny as you make hin out to be' but she knew better than to make a scene at a charity event.

"You need this." Taylor said, passing her her Phocus can.

Without thinking Miriam took a generous sip. She coughed once she realized she wasn't just drinking strawberry flavored static water.

"What is that?" Miriam asked the sports journalist.

"I have no idea, Di just added a bunch of stuff." She shrugged.

Miriam snorted and took another sip. This time she was able to drink it properly. It tasted like a strawberry margarita with sparkling water.

"Okay that's good." She giggled, passing Taylor back her drink.

Diana turned back to them holding four small Buzzballz bottles. "I also have regular tequila, sour apple flavor and piña colada flavor."

"Give me regular tequila." Miriam said.

She grabbed an orange Phocus can from the cooler and chugged half of it. Her right eye twitched slightly from the drink, but she poured some of the buzzballz into it. It didn't take long for Miriam to get tipsy. She finished that can and made herself three more of the same combination. She was a giggling mess.

"Another?" Diana asked her.

"I'm cutting myself off. If Jack sees me tipsy he won't let me suck his dick later." Miriam said bluntly.

"Yeah, let's stop before you talk about how big my son is." Jack's mom giggled.

"Okay but like, I just wanna thank you for that. He's made me–"

Diana covered Miriam's mouth. "Girl, shut up." She laughed.

They changed the topic and talked about the Barbie movie. Jack had rented out the theater where he held the White Men Can't Jump premiere and the whole group watched the movie then. They all cheered when Miriam's song came out. They haven't had time to dissect the movie until now. Miriam zoned out and rested her head on Diana's shoulder, dozing off.

Jack came by with a hot dog and cup of Dippin Dots for Miriam. She only had her iced coffee in her system and he had seen her make her little cocktails with Phocus. He crouched down at level and shook her shoulder. Diana, Taylor, the other girls and even Jack's mom gave him a warning look to not wake Miriam up, but he ignored them.

"Mhm," she opened one eye.

"Close your eyes." Jack said.

"I just had them closed." Miriam whined.

"I have a surprise for you." He said, holding the cup of Dippin Dots behind him.

"You can't just whip out your big dick, we're in public." She said.

"Miriam, just close them." He sighed.

"Okay, damn." She frowned.

She did as she was told. Jack reached for her hand and placed the cup in her hand. She opened her eyes and they teared up when she saw the cup of Dippin Dots.

"Where did you get this?" She said, taking a spoonful.

"At the concession stand." Jack pointed behind him. He also placed the hot dog with a few ketchup packets and a mayo packet. "Eat this too."

"I'm not a child." Miriam frowned.

"Bro, you only had an iced coffee before you started drinking. I'm not leaving until you finish."

Miriam unwrapped the hot dog and prepared it how she liked it. Personally she liked her hot dogs, Mexican style: bacon wrapped wienie, topped with pico de gallo, grilled onions and peppers, and lastly with mayo and ketchup on top. But she doubted that they had those in Kentucky. She ate in silence alternating between her Dippin Dots and hot dog with Jack standing over her.

"Was that so hard?" Jack asked when she finished eating.

Miriam rolled her eyes and went to toss her trash. She reached for her bag and cleaned her hands with a wet wipe. She grabbed the sunscreen and pulled Jack down to her level. She lathered him up in it then she took off his hat so she could get his face as well. His face didn't react well to the roll-on balm she used.

"Okay, now go beat the girls who laugh too hard at what you say." She said, touching up her lip balm.

"Didn't know you were playing." He said in a playful tone.

"You're not funny." Miriam deadpanned.

Jack leaned in, kissing her neck and said, "I can laugh the panties offa you."

"No you can't."

Miriam couldn’t stop laughing. Her laughter got to the point where she wasn't even making sounds. She was just folded over shaking.

"It wasn't that funny, Miriam." He rolled his eyes.

But it was. The one time he didn't wear a shirt under his jersey he got last name and jersey number etched on to his back thanks to the bright sun. Miriam had offered to get his back as well but he shrugged her off, saying he only needed to worry about the exposed skin. Little did he know his back was also exposed. Fortunately for him only his back was burnt, the rest of his body wasn't.

"Face down ass up." Miriam said, holding a tube of aloe vera gel that she got from the mini skincare fridge in their bathroom.

"Give a guy a warning if you wanna fuck their ass." He said, laying across the bed.

"Want me to fuck your ass?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He shook his head, "I'm still recovering from last time."

"Jack, that was like five months ago." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off.

Miriam knelt beside him and squirted a generous amount of aloe vera gel on his back. She took off a hair tie off her wrist and did an upside-down french braid on Jack so she wouldn't get gel in his curls. She rubbed all over his back then she applied more pressure onto him. She worked her fingers into his shoulder blades, making him groan.

"You gotta lay like this for fifteen minutes then you can wash it off." Miriam said when she finished.

She walked back to the bathroom and as she passed the bed, she felt a hard smack on her ass. Miriam turned to Jack, who had the biggest smirk on his face, with her mouth open wide.

"You can't just walk around with your ass out like that and not expect to pay the boyfriend tax." Jack said, gesturing to her outfit.

Miriam wasn't wearing much. Just some white cheeky panties and a matching white cami top.

"You're annoying." She said, rolling her eyes before sprinting out of their bedroom.

She came back with fruit rollup.

"You're not sucking my dick that." Jack told her.

The first and only time he let Miriam try a tiktok trend was when she saw a tiktok about wrapping a fruit roll up around their partners dick and going to town with it. Jack was never the type to discourage head giving methods so he agreed when Miriam asked if they could try it. It was fun at first but eventually they both got annoyed because it took a long time. Miriam ended throwing the fruit rollup away and they both went to bed annoyed and horny.

"How presumptuous of you." She said, laying on her stomach, perpendicular to Jack.

"Mhm." He replied.

Miriam opened her iPad and loaded Halle Bailey's The Little Mermaid and continued her book from where she left off. Jack was reading his script, memorizing his lines. He scooted himself closer so he was laying on top of Miriam and using her ass as a pillow. He mindlessly toyed with a loose string on her panties. He couldn't concentrate on the script so he placed it on the nightstand next to their bed. He looked over to Miriam. She was humming along to For the First Time while she read her book and bit into her snack. It amazed Jack how she was able to multitask. Miriam claimed it was just her undiagnosed ADHD.

The ten minutes had passed and Jack hopped in the shower and rinsed off the aloe vera gel. He did his nighttime routine then got back in bed. Miriam was now laying on her back in the middle of the bed with her iPad propped on her nightstand while she read.

Jack plopped on top of her. "Give me attention." Which was his way of asking for sex because he was bored and horny.

"I can't when you're top of me, suffocating." She mumbled.

He sat up and took her book, doggy earring it. He paused the movie and locked her iPad so now she could give him her undivided attention.

Jack rubbed his hands together as he knelt in front of her body. "Where to begin?" He asked, smirking.

With that smirk alone Miriam knew she was in for a long night.

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz

#jack and miriam #jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagine

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d-targaryenshoe · 3 months

Text

Asked And Answered - Luke Newton

Word count: 1237

Summary: When questions are being asked, the only thing left to do is answer, no?

"Hi, y/n! Thank you for having us here. Do you mind if we come in and ask a few questions?"

"Oh hi! No, not at all, come on in." you smiled, closing the door and leading Joe Sabia through the hallway of your house.

"How did you get into acting? Was it something you always wanted to do?" he asked, following you into your living room.

"Well, I have always loved performing. When I was a kid, I used to put on plays for my family in our living room. But it wasn't until high school that I got into acting."

You took your cup of coffee from your coffee table, turning off your TV.

"Tell us about your journey to becoming an actress?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. I auditioned for countless roles and faced a lot of rejection. But I never gave up and finally got my big break in an amazing Netflix show called Bridgerton."

You smiled at the male taking a sip from your coffee, opening your blinds, and inviting in the sunlight.

"How did you land the role of y/c/n in Bridgerton?" The man questioned.

"It's quite a funny story. I was in the middle of filming for a different project when I received a call from Chris Van Dusen about an audition for a new period drama." You chuckled.

"At first, I was indecisive as I had never done a period piece before, but my agent convinced me to give it a go. So, I went for the audition, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Speaking of Bridgerton, you act alongside your boyfriend, Luke Newton. Can you tell us more about that?" The interviewer followed you toward your kitchen.

"Yes, we're always together but we try our best to hold our distance on set, but we know each other so well, which made filming even more fun and natural." You answered, tearing off a piece of paper from the

tear-off calendar.

"What was your favorite scene to film in Bridgerton?"

"That's a tough one as I genuinely enjoyed every scene. However, I think my favorite would have to be the ballroom scene where Colin and y/c/n share their first dance." You placed your cup of coffee in the sink and took a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Are you both supporters of each other's careers?" he asked, walking behind you towards the dining room.

"Absolutely. We both understand the demands of this industry and always support and motivate each other," you say, shoving one of the chairs under the table.

"Can you tell us about your first date?" The male asked.

"Our first date was funny. We went to a Mexican restaurant, and I accidentally spilled my entire and very expensive margarita on his lap, but we look back on it and laugh now." You chuckled, leaning your arms on the chair.

"What is one thing that you're obsessed with at the moment?"

"Commenting on fans their fanart, they're incredibly talented." You said, opening the door towards your master bedroom.

"If you had a podcast what would it be called?" Joe asked, stepping into the room.

"Dearest Listeners, as a wink to Lady Whistledown." You replied while adjusting the sheets on the bed. "And Nicola Coughlan."

"what's your favorite playlist you have?"

"Romancing Mr. Newton, sorry not sorry." You laughed, leaving your master bedroom.

"what song have you had on repeat for the past few weeks?" The man asked.

"Spinning out, waiting for ya to pull me in" you softly sang, walking towards your bathroom before looking behind you. "Satellite by Harry Styles."

"what's the hardest thing you ever had to do for a role?"

"Learning how to dance a Quadrille without stepping on my dancing partner's toes." You snorted, closing the bathroom door that was still open.

"do you ever get nervous when being on set?"

"Of course, it means you care and you want to do it good." You shrugged at the man, walking to your walk-in closet.

"Who is your go-to person when you need to talk to someone?"

"Ruth Gemmell, Mother Bridgerton, really knows how to comfort you." You smiled, walking into the room that was filled with clothes and shoes.

"how many awards do you own?"

"One Academy Award for Best Actress, One Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress, and an Oscar for Best Actress," you replied while inspecting your dresses.

"What is something that recently moved you?" Joe asked

"Last month, Luke and I had a chat with a fan in London and spoke about how essential Mental Health is, that truly touched me." You strode out of your walk-in closet and shut the door behind Joe.

“Who is the most famous person on your phone?”

"Meryl Streep? Taylor Swift? Both?" You slightly laughed, pushing the screen of the smart thermometer in the house.

“what's your favorite time of the day?”

"Nighttime, just silence and quality time, it's heaven." You opened the door to your home office.

“Vintage or new?” The male asked.

"Vintage," you answered as you sat down behind your desk.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

"Acting, friends, and Luke." You leaned back in your chair, smiling at the man.

“When was the last time you were starstruck?”

"I'd say, the table read for Bridgerton, season 3." You said, getting up from the chair and getting out of the room.

“Best gift you’ve ever received?”

"All of this, Bridgerton, everyone I got to know, the fans." You answered, adjusting a painting that hung in the hallway.

“Best advice you’d give your teenage self?” He asked`

"Dare to take the risk, no matter how scary it may seem." walking into your home theatre, you took a seat on one of the huge pillows.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

"Sunny weather, the smell of coffee, and a lot of food." You chuckled, running a hand through your hair.

“who’s someone you’d like to work with again on set?"

"There's no good answer to that, anyone from the Bridgerton family." you got up from the chair and walked towards the giant black screen.

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

"The Originals." You smiled, walking out of the room.

“Rate your met gala outfit 1 to 10.”

"A decent 9." You winked at the camera, coming to a halt in the hallway. "You will see."

“Do you have a favorite room in your house?”

"I surely do! Let me show you." You walked up to the black-colored door, revealing your wine cellar.

“you have 4.2M followers on Instagram, is there something you'd like to say to them,” Joe asked, while you were inspecting the dusty bottles of wine.

"Never think twice when you want to do something, take a leap of faith." You wiped off the dust from the bottle and placed it back.

“Have you ever googled yourself?”

"Multiple times, the first time was when Bridgerton was being released." You answered, getting closer to your garage.

“Diamonds or pearls?” Joe asked

"Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" You winked at the camera, chuckling to yourself.

“Favorite accent to do?”

"British, everything just sounds better in British," you answered, opening your garage gate, and stepping outside in the sun.

"Then this was all we've wanted to ask you today, thank you for having us, Y/n."

"Thank you for being here today." you waved one last time at the man before closing your garage gate.

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oneforthemunny · 7 months

Text

halloween movie word association with the eddies

bride of chucky (specifically lol) is so rockstar!eddie. the sound track, the vibes, tiffany. it's so him in every way he would love it. you think he has a little crush on tiffany and maybe he does, bc the year it comes out, you dress up as chucky and tiffany for your halloween photos.

older!eddie idk i feel like he'd love practical magic. i think we cannoned he's kinda a rom com guy and it's close-ish??? a rom com halloween classic that he looks forward to each year. big fan of making midnight margaritas with you (bc tequila makes him horny lol).

mafia!eddie isn't big on horror, like he'll watch it but it kinda bores him after a while and i think in his free time he'd want something tamer, so i'm going with a classic- the addams family. i've said forever gomez and morticia is literally him and reader, and i think he'd just love that they're quirky and weird.

cowboy!eddie is the opposite lol. he loves a gory, gross movie that has you squirming and hiding in his shoulder and chest, peeking out only to lurch back in bc it's so foul. i'm going (with the cowboy theme in mind for funsies) he loves texas chainsaw massacre the first one, specifically. you're always petrified bc how can he watch that and be ok being alone after?? lol

bouncer!eddie loves scream. any scream movie, all scream movies. he loves the idea of the phone calls and the suspense of it all. it actually keeps his attention and he likes the mask lol.

janitor!eddie loves edwards scissorhands and it is so him and his vibe you can fight me on it but i'm not changing my mind EVER. the idea that this normal, perfect girl falls in love for a "freak"... he feels so seen. and he loves peg and the all black leather contrast to the pastel world ahhh!!! i could go on for days!!!

modern!eddie... i'm gonna ruffle some feathers here, but he's a nightmare before christmas guy and yeah... he's one of those guys i'm sorry. makes it his whole personality and def has a jack skellington tattoo lol. he watches it year round, but 10000% has decorations that are all that theme (and keeps them up year round lmao).

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #rockstar!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie munson #janitor!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #bouncer!eddie munson #eddie munson halloween #oneforthemunny spooky stories

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weebsinstash · 10 months

Note

Ok but like ik you've been talking about werewolves and abo recently but like I need to say this somewhere.

I think yandere and abo is such a underappreciated combo. Especially when most of it that is made(or at least that I've seen) is the classic yandere alpha x omega. Which isnt bad but I feel like there could be so much more.

Where is the yandere omega x alpha who threatens to ruin the alpha's life with false accusations of the alpha forcing themselves on the omega? Or how about yandere omega who doesnt even hide their tendencies because ofc an omega would never behave like that! Then there is the idea that people actively encourage the behavior because(depending on how you write it) omegas are so rare, you dont want them to disappear entirely right?

Tbh my favorite idea is the omega trying to manipulate the alpha with their heat/rut. Like the omega just 'accidentally' getting their heat near the alpha. Or going over to the alpha's house while they're having their rut because they forgot something or someone said the alpha was 'sick' and they wanted to check on them. Maybe the omega even takes something to induce a heat before going over...

Then you have yandere omega who adores a beta. The omega being super clingy and possessive because they have no way to claim, or be claimed. Or using the fact the beta doesn't understand typical social norms with omegas being used against them, so the omega is doing shit that would happen between mates but the beta is none the wiser.

One could also do yandere alpha who has a thing for a beta. The alpha threatening anyone who even tries to get with the beta who's none the wiser. Same with the omega in the fact it really drives them up the wall they have no way to mark you. And oh imagine the alpha practically begging the poor beta over the phone and guilt tripping them into coming over during their rut.

These ideas have been in my head so long and the only reason I even feel the need to say it is because I've been having a certain idea in mind for a Mr. O'hara that wont leave me alone.

You know this actually puts my mind in a little time machine where I once had an idea for like, an afab Reader x Izuku quirkless AU where you're in the same university and you're an athlete (my preference is soccer player) and you eventually notice there's a young man who's a little shorter than you are who seems to always watch your practices and every game, just looking so wide-eyed and impressed as he always seems to look only at you, and it becomes this weird like, you're actually bigger and stronger than him but the little worm starts approaching you and being, uh, unintentionally creepy. He'll want your autograph, say what a big fan he is, how cool you are, shit he'll just greet you with a hug when he knows you don't like him and he doesn't even react when you shove him away. He's just a really clingy fucking uwu bottom and you're kind of wary about him because even though he's smaller than you, there's some suspicious strength in those hugs

Izuku absolutely strikes me as the type, "ohhhh noOooOoo, Reader, what's wrong? Are you in a rut? O-oh no, whatever shall we dooooo" *comes as close to you and touches you as much as he possibly can, deliberately trying to rile you up until youre riding his dick or getting HIM pregnant, also, babytrapping izuku, obviously*

But oh my fucking god my dude don't get me started thinking on ABO shit with Miguel 💦 literally laying in my bed right now thinking about how he's literally taller than my bed is long and really just letting it sink in what an absolute tank that man is. He's the kind of man that can fuck you standing full-Nelson style just holding you up in his arms. There is absolutely no chance in hell you can physically overpower him unless he's like, drunk or drugged or something. And of course now I'm thinking of Miguel hitting the margaritas a little too hard and you snap awake in bed to find your boss who you've never slept with before climbing on top of you, maybe he doesn't even fuck you, he's just so drunk he started thinking about how nice it would be to fall asleep cuddling you and inhaling your scent and you're just caged by this unmoving wall of a man with an iron grip who covers your face in sloppy kisses until he passes out

I feel like I've seen a few posts around where people talk about Spiderpeople having mating seasons or heats or whatever and, really you can just have that as abo, either or. You're just this poor unassuming Beta who thinks you're nothing special until one day you're bringing him a coffee his assistant told you to bring him and, suddenly a man overcome with animalistic need is pinning you against the nearest surface and claiming your mouth with his own. I hate what a basic bitch I am with A x O being my preference but hey, there's a time, place, character, and concept for everything right ;) goddddd Alpha Miguel would fill an Omega partner with so many pups, mf fucks you once and suddenly you're knocked up with triplets.

Was literally starting a new draft for a brand new idea when you sent this and, I think im gonna not post about it yet bc, I kinda just wanna see how much I can write if I just slam through it. Sometimes the inspiration just HITS you know? But nah dude I'm definitely guilty over lowkey obsessing about this man like deadass checking his r34 tag every other day, I am down something horrendous, I want this man in a way that is concerning to feminism, like this is gonna be me going to the theaters this Saturday

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #honestly i have a feeling i dont even show up in the tags lmao #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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saltscorner · 4 months

Text

Scott Pilgrim Vs His Homoerotic Relationship with Wallace Wells

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52337650

Wallace was busy fixing himself an ice cold margarita. He was pouring it in his regular chalice.

Sure it was only three in the afternoon, but it was never too late to start drinking in his opinion.

Wallace took a sip of his margarita, savoring the icy sweetness as he glanced at the clock. "Three in the afternoon," he mused, "but who's keeping track? A little liquid therapy never hurt anyone."

He swirled the drink in his chalice, contemplating whether to add an extra splash of tequila just for the hell of it. "Scott better have a good reason for being late," Wallace muttered to himself, taking another sip and preparing for another potentially uneventful evening.

Earlier that day, Scott announced he was going on a date with his bitch of a girlfriend, Natalie..or Envy. Whatever she wanted to be called, it was hard to keep track of.

Wallace had always hated her. It wasn’t just because of his somewhat homoerotic relationship with his roommate. Yes, he was ‘jealous’ (even if he wouldn’t admit he was himself) but that wasn’t the only reason he hated her.

She had been treating Scott horribly and Wallace had to always pick up the broken pieces she left behind. He would never tell him how much he hated her but then again, he thought it was pretty obvious to everyone who wasn’t Scott.

Wallace grabbed his chalice and plopped down on his usual armchair with a sigh.

As Wallace settled into his armchair, contemplating the extra tequila, the door burst open, revealing Scott with a disheveled appearance and an unfortunate haircut that screamed "bad decisions."

As soon as he spotted Wallace, his eyes immediately filled with tears and his lip started trembling as he choked back a sob.

"Whoa, Scott, what happened?" Wallace set aside his chalice, concern etched on his face as he noticed the sobbing coming out of his roommates mouth.

Scott fell onto Wallace and laid on top of him and hugged him tightly, his shoulders shaking with suppressed emotions. "Envy... she broke up with me and she said it was because she wanted a better image. But I know it was because of my haircut, I’m so uglyyyy" he managed to utter between shaky breaths. He was whining and his tears were getting on Wallace’s nice sweater.

Wallace, though internally seething at the news, put on a comforting facade because he knew that getting mad wouldn’t help right now. "Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay." He awkwardly patted Scott's back, subtly cringing at how awkward he was acting right now. "And, uh, nice haircut, by the way. Really suits you."

Wallace tightened his embrace around Scott. "Scott, listen, it’s her loss. Your haircut is a masterpiece, and anyone who can't see that is blind," he said, a hint of a genuine smile appearing.

Scott looked up, his tear-streaked face puzzled. "Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

Wallace chuckled, ruffling Scott's hair affectionately. "I may not be a fan of the cut, but you know what? It's unique, just like you. And I know someone out there is going to love every messy strand of it."

Scott managed a small laugh, appreciating the attempt at comfort. Wallace always had a way of making him feel better.

Wallace rubbed little circles on Scott’s back as he continued to cling onto him. “In fact, you look the same way you always do, hot.”

Scott lightly smacked Wallace’s shoulder and laughed. “Stoppppp,” he whined as he tried to hide the smile in his voice by hiding his face in Wallace’s sweater.

Wallace grinned, relishing the playful banter. "I'm serious, guy. Your charm is timeless, and that haircut is just a blip on the radar of your overall awesomeness."

Scott finally lifted his face from Wallace's sweater, a genuine smile breaking through his tears. "You know, you’re sweet when you want to be, Wallace. Thanks for being here for me."

"Always, for you," Wallace said, a warmth in his eyes as he looked at Scott. "Now, how about we get you out of this disastrous date mood? I've got just the thing , and I can’t believe I’m saying this but, how about I put on some Sonic for us?"

Scott’s eyes lit up and he wiped his tear stained cheeks. “Really? The 1990’s one? I thought you hated that one!”

“I do but you look like you need it right now,” Wallace sighed and handed Scott the remote with a smirk.

Scott gave him a toothy grin and sat up a bit and readjusted himself. “You’re the best, Wallace!”

He hated this show but he supposes he could handle it for a few hours if it means he’ll get his happy roommate back.

#scott x wallace #scott pilgram takes off #scott pilgram vs the world #scott pilgrim #scollace #scollace week 2023 #fanfic #fluff #slight angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

A Birthday to Remember

Summary: You're birthday celebration is crashed by an unexpected guest. (Steve Rogers)

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, flirting, public canoodles

Note: @punishmepunisher said Evans was rocking a suburban dad who drinks applebee's margaritas and listens to Jimmy Buffett so this happened.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Please also reblog because it's a lot longer than I intended.

You laugh over the rim of your appletini. The overly sweet drink goes down too easy as Charlotte calls for another round. It’s not exactly the thirtieth birthday you dreamed of, but you can’t complain for the company.

It’s almost fitting as you enter your third decade, the downhome atmosphere of the Applebee’s; the staticy classic rock buzzing from the speakers, televisions playing sports games over the bar, where men in golf shirts and khakis nurse Heinekins and cheer on their favourite batters. The old jokes don’t stop as Charlotte and Tatiana hide behind the few months until they cross the line of the big three-o.

“You think you can handle another round, grandma?” Tat giggles as she looks around for the waiter.

“Shut up,” you grumble and roll your eyes, “just you wait, you’ll regret it.”

“She’s getting cranky in her old age,” Charlotte cracks and drains the last of her pina colada.

You harrumph and cross your arms as you sit back against the plastic cushion. The waiter stops by as Tat calls for another order.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you two with planning this,” you bemoan, “I mean, really?”

“Oh, come on, you said no clubs,” Charlotte taunts, “so we went with something more your speed.”

“Let me guess, we’re hitting the funeral home next?” You scoff.

“That’s next year,” Tat cackles.

You shake your head and sit through their roast, the waiter bringing you a second appletini as you thank them. You’re gonna need at least half a dozen to get through the night, especially with these two.

The bright green liquid dwindles as you gulp it down eagerly, listening to Charlotte chatter about her new Tinder match. A cute redhead she claims. You haven’t had much luck on the app despite her many flings. You feel as if you’re doing something wrong and Tat is once more in her on-and-off hookup with her old college roommate.

As you’re ready for a third, pondering changing up the flavour, a sudden lull goes up as the crackle of a sparkler breaks the din. Several waiters approach singing happy birthday as you cringe and sink down in your seat. Charlotte and Tatiana join in out of tune, drawing out the song annoyingly as the cake is placed on the table before you.

You growl before you blow out the candles and the servers proclaim you next drink on the house. You smile and thank them, holding back your humiliation and ordering one of the blue drinks on special.

“Right,” you say as you’re finally left to wallow with your so-called friends, “I’m gonna break the seal.”

“Already? Oh, shoot, there goes her bladder, we should’ve brought the depends,” Tat jokes and you give her another snarl.

You leave them to their laughter as you climb down from the booth and head towards the signs beside the kitchen. You take your time, hiding in the stall as the alcohol flows into your veins and gives a bit of a tint to your vision. You wash your hands and stare at your reflection.

You don’t look older. You don’t feel it either. Thirty isn’t so bad. Give it a couple years and your few strands of grey will be streaks. You twist off the tap and yank out some paper towel to dry off.

It’s a bit louder as you come out into the restaurant. The bar’s growing raucous as bottles clink onto the wood top and the avid ball fans cheer for their team in the ninth inning. As you pass behind the stools, a body stumbles into you as he slides off a tall stool.

A large hand catches your lower back, steadying you before retracting abruptly.

“Oop, sorry about that, I didn’t see ya there,” the man takes a step back, resting his hand on the leather of his vacated seat, “oh, you’re the birthday girl, huh?”

“Oh, uh,” you glance over at Charlotte and Tat as they speak over the table, slurping from their thin straws, “yeah, my friends are a bit dramatic.”

“Here, let me buy you a drink,” he offers.

“Oh, no, no, that’s fine. It’s nice of you but–”

“I insist, come on,” he waves to the bartender, “what are you drinking?”

“Really, I can’t, I gotta get back to my friends,” you insist.

“Bah, make them wait, they don’t seem to miss you,” he peeks at them over his shoulder, “Steve, by the way.”

You nod, uncertain about the man. He’s older than you. Forty at least judging from the patches of silver at his temples that weave back into his golden hair. Even so, he’s not bad looking.

You return your name, another wary look to your table, and you fold your hands anxiously.

“Another margarita,” he orders over the bar and turns to you, “well?”

“Um, vodka soda,” you say, sticking to the same liquor. If you don’t feel your age, you definitely feel the alcohol.

“Here, all yours,” he pats the stool and steps away as the bartender begins his mixing.

“No, it’s fine–”

“I insist,” he points to the seat, his voice firm, fatherly almost, “sit.”

You hold back a sigh and step on the crossbar and haul yourself up. He stands beside you, his elbow on the bar as he digs out his wallet. He pays as your drinks are set down and tells the bartender to keep the change.

“You’re too nice,” you say, “buying a complete stranger a drink.”

“Stranger? I know your name, you know mine,” he says smoothly.

“Right,” you put your fingers on the cold glass, “I guess.”

“So, how old are you now? Wait, wait,” he raises his large hands, “let me guess,” he taps his chin as he thinks, eyes roving over you, “twenty-three?”

You nearly choke as you suck on the straw and scoff, “try again.”

“Hmmm, up or down?” he asks. You point at the ceiling and his brows shoot up, “oh, I see, aging gracefully.” He pauses to drink from the tall green neck of his beer bottle, “Twenty-five?”

You shake your head and give him a doubtful look, “you don’t have to lie, it’s not working.”

“Twenty-six?” He tries again, the same glower aimed back at him, “no? Shit, uh,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and hovers his glass before his lips. He squints at you and takes a slow drink, popping his lips off the rim as he thinks, “don’t tell me you’re thirty.”

You nod, “yep, thirty.”

“Jeez, well, you look good for thirty, trust me, I know,” he chuckles, “damn, I’m old.”

“Are you?” You wonder.

“Take a guess,” he leans on the bar as he crosses one foot over the other.

“I don’t want to,” you say, “I wouldn’t want to offend you.”

“What? Come on, I can’t look that old, I’m sure you can get it.”

“Steve,” you pluck his name out of your mind after a moment of grasping, “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” he goads.

You press your lips together and take another sip. You peer over at Charlotte and Tatianna. They’ve noticed and they’re watching none too subtly.

“I should get back to my friends,” you say again.

“You guess my age and you can go,” he says, “so?”

“Uh, I don’t know… thirty?” You utter weakly.

He laughs, “be serious,” he slides closer, brushing against your legs.

“Forty,” you resign in a stony voice.

His cheek ticks, “warmer.”

“Okay, er, forty-two?”

“Getting there,” he tilts his head.

“Higher or lower?” You ask impatiently and slide to the edge of the stool, wanting to get back to the table.

“Higher,” his tone rolls in his throat smokily.

“Um, forty-five?” You bluster helplessly.

“Bingo,” he wiggles his glass at you, “fifteen years, huh? Not that much but enough.”

“Sure,” you say, confused, “well, I–”

“Hey,” Charlotte interrupts, “hate to butt in but we were getting a bit antsy so we cut the cake.”

“Here,” Tatiana hands you a plate with a slice, then offers another to Steve, “we figured we bring you some.”

“I’m coming back, it’s–”

“Thanks,” Steve takes it and sets down his drink, “you guys have some wild plans for the rest of the night?”

Tat gives a prolonged glance in his direction before her and Charlotte share a coded look, “well, that’s the thing. I have a girl waiting for me at my apartment and Char here has a guy blowing up her phone, but our friend, single as the day she was born.”

“Tat,” you hiss under your breath as Steve laughs.

“And she’s thirty. Tick tock,” Charlotte adds, “she won’t be able to score a sexy older man for much longer.”

“Shut up,” you growl.

“So, we’ve had our cake and ate it too,” Charlotte smirks, “so the table is all yours.”

You blink at her as you try not to seethe in anger.

“Go on, enjoy the rest of your birthday, babe,” Tat adds as she adjusts her purse, “we’re just gonna share a cab.”

‘I hate you,’ you mouth over your glass before you take another drink.

They giggle and give a wave, “see you later, you can tell us all about it tomorrow,” Charlotte chimes as they strut away.

You gulp down the last of the bitter vodka soda and place it on the bar, “well, that was not uncomfortable at all. I’m gonna go grab my things and disappear.”

“Wait,” he says as you drop off the stool, your plate nearly toppling out of your hand, “you gotta have your cake. It’s your birthday.”

“I… guess,” you bite your lip, “but you don’t have to–”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I want to,” he says, “so?”

You feel bad saying no, even if you’re uncertain about him. He’s friendly enough but you don’t exactly go for the suburban Applebee local. He did buy you a drink though so the least you can do is be polite.

“Sure,” you say, “I can’t eat all that cake alone.”

He grins and turns back for his margarita. You lead him to the table and sidle onto the bench. He slides in beside you to your surprise as you set down your plate. He’s close as he sits next to you and settles in.

“I prefer vanilla,” he says as he jabs his fork into the chocolate sponge.

“I don’t mind either,” you say as you mirror him. This is going to be an awkward night. Charlotte and Tatianna are going to pay.

“So, you must be from town?” he asks before taking a bite.

“Yeah, east end,” you answer.

“Ah, I live up in Chester,” he swallows, “pretty tame over there.”

“That’s close,” you say awkwardly, never very good at the whole conversation with a stranger thing.

“I look like the type, eh?” He glances down at his striped golf shirt.

“I didn’t think about it,” you lie, focusing on your cake as sweat beads on your scalp. He smells like bergamot and citrus,

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he says as he stretches his arm behind your head, his fork clinking against the plate.

“I’m not,” you reach for the forgotten blue cocktail you ordered before your venture to the toilets, “really.”

“So what do you do? You seem like a teacher type.”

“I do? Didn’t you think I was twenty-three?”

“Well, now I know you’re not. Maybe you’re a lawyer? You like to argue.”

“I’m not arguing,” you stop yourself, leaving the last bit of your slice untouched as you twirl your fork nervously, “I work in curriculum development. Not quite a teacher.”

“Ah, I knew it was something like that,” he puts his fork down on his empty plate and takes a napkin to wipe his lips, crumpling it up and tossing it with the silver. “You must work hard, no time for guys?”

“Just haven’t gotten to that,” you shrug as his arm falls onto your shoulder. You wriggle and try to shrug him off, “it’s warm in here,” you fan yourself as the fork shakes in your hand.

“Well, you’re damn hot, aren’t you?” he purrs as he leans in.

“Wha– I– Can you back up?” you choke out, “please.”

“Come on, baby, just a little fun for your birthday,” he turns towards you on the seat, blocking out the restaurant with his shoulders.

“Okay, no, you’re too–”

He shoves his hands between your legs and you gasp, clamping your thighs around his fingers.

“Hey,” you grab his wrist, “don’t do that–”

He curls his arm around your head and smothers your mouth with his other hand. You murmur into his palm as he forces his hands up to the seam of your leggings. Your eyes round as heat surrounds the pressure of his rough touch. His breath fills the tight space as he pulls your against him.

You’re almost in his lap as he places his chin on top of your head, hugging you to him as he rocks his hand. It’s painful as the coil winds within, the weight of his hand against your clit twists it tighter and tighter. You garble as he shakes your whole body with his rhythm and hushes you.

“Doesn’t that feel good, honey? Hm?” he keeps two fingers against your folds as he presses the heel of his hand against your bud, “fuck, I feel you getting wet through these things.”

You whimper as you latch onto his thick forearm, his scent drowning you as the alcohol laces through your hazy mind. He moves his fingers up and down, tracing the seam and pushes on the stitches with his nail. The fabric split and he tears the hole a little at a time.

You tremble as you claw at him, begging him in muffled sniffles to stop. He feels along the edge of your panties and inches them aside, delving between your wet lips. You bat your lashes in horror as he coos at you under his breath.

“Fuck, you are wet, honey, hm? You like being my little slut. With all these people around too…” he dips his fingers into you, wiggling his hand against your clit as he curls his knuckles, “yeah, you’re gonna cum already, aren’t you?”

The noise all around blurs; voices, the radio, the television, and the clatter of plates from behind the kitchen doors. You suck in air as your eyes roll back, the tingle spreading across your thighs as your hips rock without thinking. He squeezes as the fire bloom and smatters across your pelvis, an orgasm spiking against your will.

You puff against his hand as you squeeze his wrist and shudder through your climax. He eases you through, your walls twitching around him in rebellion. Slowly, he slips out and lets you go. You pants as you brace yourself against the cushion as he untangles his arm form your neck.

He puts his elbow on the table and admires his glistening fingers. You reach between your legs to feel the tear in your leggings, your cunt tender to the touch. He winks at you as he licks his fingers and pushes them into his mouth with a hum.

He pulls them out in a deliberate motion, “tasty,” he smirks and turns his hand, checking the time on his watch, “damn, I told the wife I’d be home at ten.”

You gape at him as he takes a deep swig from the curved glass and slides off the seat. You quiver as you sit up, watching him dumbly as you try to understand what just happened.

“See ya, honey,” he waves with the two fingers he just fucked you with, “happy birthday.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #maybe?#mcu #marvel #au #captain america #silverfox au

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