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harlowcomehome · 1 year

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What’s the best way to cheat on someone?

A/N: Requested by my 💀 anon.

You were in your bedroom on FaceTime, when you heard the front door close. Jack had been away all day and had just been finally getting home.

“Hey beautiful” he walked into the room and you showed him that you were on FaceTime with one of your closest friends.

“Hi” Jack waved before coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. He kissed you and let you get back to putting on your makeup. “Bachelorette party is tonight?”

“Yes baby” you giggled, having reminded him about five times now.

“I made you dinner, it’s in the fridge.” You holler as he left the room.

“Thank you beautiful” he hollered back as he went to the kitchen to warm it up.

“Are you ever on TikTok?” Your friend asked as you continued gluing your eyelash on.

“Yeah? Why?”

She started to explain a video she saw where the woman asked her husband what the best way to cheat on somebody was. She always gave you ideas to prank Jack with.

You watched two or three more videos realizing it was a trend.

“That’s so evil” you shook your head.

“I knew you wouldn’t do it” she shrugged.

“I’ll do it! I’m not recording it though” you smirked.

“You’re no fun!” She giggled.

“You don’t wanna see a sex tape do you?” You teased and she gasped.

“You two little nasties” she laughed.

You quickly got off the phone with her, walking into the living room to spend time with your husband before you had to get dressed.

“Baby, look at this fucking video” he took his phone out, talking with his mouth full of food.

“You’re going to choke” you giggled as you wiped his face with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, swallowing his food and showing you the video he took on his phone today.

You both shouted and giggled when you saw Urban make the shot.

“Crazy huh? He should’ve gone pro” he shrugged. The two of you always talked about how Urban could’ve easily been a professional soccer player.

You kissed his cheek, deciding you were about to put your plan in motion.

You started the twist your wedding band around on your finger, a habit you usually did mindlessly when you were nervous although right now it was intentional.

Jack noticed immediately like he always did.

“What’s wrong? You alright?”

You were trying your hardest not to smile, knowing you needed to sell this. “Can I ask you a question? You have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

He put his plate down, it was nearly empty anyway. “I’ll promise that I’ll try not to be mad?” He laughed, bracing himself for whatever you were about to say to him.

“That works too.” You paused and his eyes never left you.

“What’s the- what’s the best way to cheat on someone?” You didn’t dare look at him.

“What?” He couldn’t believe the words he had just heard escape your lips. He looked around for your phone, a hidden camera, or something.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he paced around the living room.

“You’re joking right?”

“I knew you’d be mad” you sighed, sitting back on the couch and folding your arms across your chest.

“Are you asking for one of your friends? I mean why are you asking me? I’m your whole husband” he was standing in front of you now. His eyebrows furrowed as they often did when he was annoyed, his neck vein prominent and his nostrils flared.

You tried to stifle a laugh at the use of “whole husband.” In any other instance you would’ve cracked a joke about it but you felt like it was best if you didn’t.

Jack was trying his best to internally stop himself from overreacting, hoping he had misunderstood the question.

You could see his blood boiling and you started to scroll silently on your phone as a distraction.

“Why. Are. You. Asking?” He breathed through his nose, trying to remain calm as he asked you that question in pieces.

You didn’t look up at him, continuing to scroll. “Just wondering” you shrugged.

He sat beside you, and you still ignored him.

“Baby, look at me.”

Eventually, he snatched your phone out of your hands and put it behind him on the couch.

“Jack, stop playing” you tried your best to sound as serious as possible.

“I’m not playing with you, like at all” he answered with attitude now. “Did I do something wrong? What would make you ask me that question?”

“It was just a random thought. I thought maybe you had some tips and pointers” You shrugged not knowing you were about to send him into a meltdown.

“You’re going to this bachelorette party thinking you’re single or what?”

You looked at his face, realizing he was one breath away from popping a damn blood vessel in his eye.

“Just tell me what I did wrong?” His voice cracked and you realized now he was 100% serious.

“Jackman, I was just joking. I’d never-“

“Who the fuck is Jackman? I’m baby, babe, handsome, husband, your lover. You got me fucked up” he stood up and stormed out of the room.

“Oh fuck” you whispered to yourself as you heard the studio door slam and lock.

You waited a few minutes in the hallway, before knocking knowing he usually didn’t stay mad for long.

Petty? Yes. Mad? No.

“Please, open the door.”

He unlocked it and you let yourself in. He sat back down on the couch, his hands were shaking and you could tell he was still clearly upset.

“Baby, I would never cheat on you. You should know that. It was just a silly tiktok trend and I didn’t realize you were actually upset until it was too late” you confessed drawing circles on his thighs. You knew he was ticklish, hoping he’d crack a smile.

He didn’t, he was so pissed he didn’t even realize you were doing it.

“Baby, I’m sorry” you straddled him, and the corner of his mouth started to curve.

“That was fucked up” he sighed, leaning back on the couch as he gripped your thighs to keep you steady.

“Why did you think I was serious?”

“I didn’t! Until you said tips and pointers, that’s where I lost it” he chuckled feeling kind of silly now.

“Baby, I love you more than anything in this world. I would never even tell another man “thank you” for holding the door open. “ You were being dramatic just for the sake of making him laugh but he liked it.

“Oh yeah?” He threw his head back and laughed.

“Next time I go somewhere if the worker is a male, I’ll just leave. I’m that loyal” you joked and he couldn’t stop laughing which was a big change from several minutes ago.

“A man asks me to put my shopping cart away? I’m pepper spraying him, because I got a man” you rolled your eyes sending him into a laughter fit.

“You’re too much” he pushed his glasses up and wiped his eyes.

“Baby, I’m genuinely sorry, I didn’t think you’d get upset and I thought you probably already knew about the trend but that’s no excuse” you played with the drawstrings on his hoodie.

He could tell you were getting emotional now, anytime you two got into even the smallest of arguments where you thought his feelings were hurt you’d start to cry.

“Baby” he squeezed your thighs. “I’m not upset anymore. We’re fine.”

“What if I made it up to you before I leave?” you winked.

“Oh?” He wiggled his eyebrows “a little sucky fucky?”

“You killed the mood” you laughed, getting off his lap.

“But baby! I’m just so devastated” he joked.

“Come on then!” You waved at him to follow you.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #Jack Harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fan fiction #💀 anon

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txemrn · 1 year

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Book: TRR/TRH (events actually occur in TRH Book 1)

Pairing: Liam x MC (Riley); Bertrand x Savannah

Word Count: ~2500

Warning: innuendos; a little language; fluffiness

A/N: I usually enjoy writing fairly angsty TRR material, but when I started gearing up for this past week's @kingliamappreciationweek, I decided I really wanted to write something new that wasn't so dramatic. So, I started thinking about how Liam is a history buff... and if y'all don't know this by now, I'm from Texas, and the thought of that tall glass of water knowing about my home state's history...whew... Give me a moment... This is pure silliness. It's a re-write of Bertrand's bachelor party/Savannah's bachelorette party, and it's just... silly. It does not follow canon very well. But, I hope you still enjoy it! Happy KLAW 2023, friends!

A/N 2: This is my submission for @choicesflashfics week 30! I will be using prompt 3: "That's how the story goes." It will be in bold.

A/N 3: These characters and some of the plot belong to our dear friends Pixelberry. This was not truly pre-read or beta'd. Please excuse my errors.

~👑~

"Alright, lil' ladies with the beautiful bride-to-be!" A burly bartender with a thick drawl and matching beard comes out from behind the counter, making his way to Savannah Walker's bachelorette party. Delivering a tray of golden caramel-colored shots, he piles each one high with decadent whipped cream. "Here ya go: six blow job shots."

Hana spews out her cocktail, covering her mouth with rosy cheeks.

"Mon dieu! Did–did he just say–"

"Like you don't know what that is, Kiara," Olivia snorts. "Drink up, poufiasse."

Savannah, Madeleine, and Riley cover their giggles, leaning into one another as they take their drinks.

"Wait," Hana holds up her hands as they prepare to toast their third round of shots. "Where's Penelope?"

"Oh, I'm here! I'm here!" She runs up, out of breath, her short hair and denim dress completely drenched.

"What on earth happened to you?" Riley starts grabbing napkins.

"I was checking in with my dog sitter, but the reception here is awful. Plus, it's raining like cats and dogs out—oooooo!" Penelope's eyes beam at the sight of the shots. "What are these?" She leans down to sniff before humming in approval.

"Blow jobs," Olivia smirks.

"Oh!" Penelope nods with curious fascination. "Leo said that about my lips one time–"

"He said what?" Madeleine raises an eyebrow.

"I know, I didn't understand what he meant either."

"No, that's not–nevermind."

"Hold up." Riley raises her hands to silence everyone before turning to Penelope. "Raining like cats and dogs?" She grimaces, glancing at Savannah. "I hope the guys are alright–"

"Gunther!"

The sudden boisterous voice of Drake Walker echoes through the dive bar, the doors swinging loudly, clapping up against the wooden walls. The large bartender turns, then brightens when he sees his old-time customer and friend coming into his establishment.

"Whiskers, is that you?"

The girls quietly glare at one another, mouthing the word 'whiskers.'

The two men grab each other's hands in a shake before pulling into a brotherly hug. Liam, Bertrand and Maxwell file in through the door, shaking droplets from their wet clothes.

"You guys!" Riley jumps up to greet her husband.

Savannah follows behind, wrapping her arms around Bertrand before brushing a kiss against his lips. "What are y'all doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Maxwell chuckles, throwing his thumb behind his shoulder.

"The campgrounds were rained out," Liam explains, combing his wife's hair behind her ear. "We thought we could stick it out as long as the creek didn't rise too high. But then," he shakes his head, chuckling, "the tents flooded. The truck almost got stuck in the mud."

"Our clothes and shoes are airing out back at the house," Bertrand states, watching his bride fix his wet hair.

"Wow," Olivia snickers, "so much for roughing it for your bachelor party, huh, Beaumont?"

"I beg your pardon," Bertrand stiffens in annoyance, "we almost died out there, duchess."

"It's water."

"Centimeters upon centimeters–"

"Imagine meters of it. Frozen–"

"Well," Riley interjects the budding feud, "I, for one, am happy you guys are out of the nasty weather." She holds her hand up to the bartender, "first round on the crown!"

"I like the sound of that," Maxwell chuckles.

"'First round on the crown'?" Liam whispers in his wife's ear, humored.

Riley scrunches up her nose, a mischievous grin crawling across her lips. "What can I say?" She giggles, slinking an arm around her husband’s waist. "I've been a queen for over a month, and I haven’t declared anything yet." She turns to her friends. "Let them drink booze!" She glances back at Liam, who's shaking his head at his tipsy wife. "What? I was channeling my inner Marie Antoinette."

"I… caught the reference," he narrows his eyes, gently placing a grip around Riley's neck. "I hope she’s not the inspiration of your own reign," he squeezes his fingers playfully, lowering his voice into a growl. "I'd hate for you to end up like her."

"You're not convincing me otherwise with your hand around my throat, my king." They knowingly snicker to one another, sharing a kiss.

"Okay, you newlyweds," Olivia snickers, rolling her eyes before turning to Drake. "So, um, Whiskers?"

He crosses his arms. "Yes…Red?" He collects a tray of glasses and a fifth of whiskey from Gunther to bring to the table.

"Curious minds want to know about this nickname."

"Awww, you’re thinking about me, Red?" She scoffs as he purposely bumps into her shoulder. "Maybe you'd rather a demonstration of why they call me Whiskers–"

"Drake Elmer!" Savannah scolds. "You're disgusting." She glances to the ladies. "Only Gunther calls him that, and the only reason he calls him that is because of Dad."

"Dad had a rule," Drake air quotes, "that I couldn't taste whiskey until I had whiskers." He nods towards the bartender, "Gunther there served me my first whiskey right after Dad's funeral–"

"Drakey!" The syrupy voice of Savannah's ex-boyfriend bellows from across the room. "And he brought his royal round up!" The broad-shouldered red-head gives a curt bow, removing his Stetson as he notices Liam, switching to a British accent. "Your majesty."

Liam nods cordially before casually turning towards Riley. "What is it with you Americans thinking everyone in Europe talks with that accent?" Riley giggles under her breath, pinching her husband teasingly.

"Bert!" Chuck opens up his arms, pulling the duke into a tight, bear hug. "How's our groom? Come down here to flex your trivia knowledge?"

"Trivia?" Maxwell questions.

A sudden jolt of excitement hits Drake, his eyes widening as he looks to Gunther. "Is that tonight?"

"You bet yer' asses, Whiskers. $250 cash prize and a bottle of Jack to share."

"Whatd'ya say, Drakey? For old time's sake?" Chuck holds out his hand. Without giving it much thought, Drake clasps Chuck's calloused hand, pulling him into a quick hug. The men begin to hoot and grunt, clapping as they turn to join the rest of Chuck's friends in the corner.

But then Chuck stops, spinning on his heel. He glares at Bertrand before fixing a charming smirk to his mouth. "Where are my manners? Bert, the team is full, or else I'd invite you to join–"

"That's–" Bertrand clears his throat, "--quite alright, I assure you–"

"I mean," Chuck motions to Liam and Maxwell, "unless y'all wanted to make your own team." He glances over his shoulder, “Gunther, what’s tonight’s theme?

"Texas history, fellas," Gunther announces. "Trivia about the greatest fucking country in the world. Texas."

"Ahh. See?" Chuck swings out his arms, shrugging. "That’s how the story goes. Y'all better sit this one out." With the deep clack of his cowboy boots, he adjusts his belt buckle before slowly strutting back to his seat.

Seeing the defeat in his face, Savannah runs a hand across Bertrand's chest before giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry about it, hun," she softly croons, "that's not even your idea of fun anyway."

Bertrand grows rigid. "What do you mean? I like to have fun–"

"Of course, B, just… in other… ways–"

"I," he pulls away from his fiancée, pressing his finger into his chest, "am… the epitome of fun–"

"You're right, but–"

"I'm a crate full of apes!"

Riley looks over her shoulder to Liam, whispering, "Does he know that it's a barrel full of–?"

"Shhh," Liam softly hushes, "just let him go."

"You there!" Bertrand shouts to Gunther, causing everyone to freeze. "We would like to play."

"Uh, Bertrand? A word." Maxwell motions for his brother to join him as he stumbles over to Liam. "Are you crazy?" He whisper shouts. "These people already enjoy making fun of us. Why do you want to do this?"

"It's the principle of it all," Bertrand grows serious.

Maxwell sighs. "What do you think, Li?"

Liam looks up at Bertrand whose gaze is now attentive to Savannah. She laughs at something Kiara says, causing Bertrand's demeanor to slump a little more, as if each second with her reminds him he's not worthy of her.

Liam gets that.

"I think we should do it."

"See, Bertrand? Even Li–wait, what?" Maxwell's jaw drops. "You think this is a good idea?"

"It's just a game, right?" Liam winks handsomely. "Besides, I think Bertrand needs this."

"But Li… Texas trivia? Those guys reek of BBQ, football and leather."

“And we have survived how many secret coups attacks? Liam shrugs before patting the younger Beaumont on the back. "This could be fun."

—

Liam, Bertrand and Maxwell settle at a bar top table near four other teams, including Chuck and Drake's group. As Gunther passes out electronic buzzers, he explains the rules. Chuck rubs his hands together in cocky delight as Bertrand wipes his brow with small drink napkins.

"Alright! Is everybody ready?" Gunther announces over a karaoke machine microphone. "Let's begin. When is Texas Independence Day?"

Chuck buzzes in with a proud, sarcastic snicker. "March 2nd."

"Correct!"

"Ahh, snaps, you guys," Maxwell hangs his head in his hands. "This was a bad idea."

"It's only been one question," Liam encourages.

"And we're already losing!" Maxwell whines, covering his eyes.

"Next question. Before her independence, Texas was governed by how many different nations?"

Liam hits the buzzer, turning to an unsuspecting Bertrand. "Psst… how many forks are in the traditional Cordonian place setting?"

Bertrand scoffs. "Six!" He barks out loud before realizing everyone is silent, staring at him.

"Correct!"

"Huh?" Maxwell looks up, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Way to go, Bertrand!" Riley and Savannah cheer as the other ladies clap and whistle.

"Alright," Gunther starts, "next question…"

The trivia night continues, back and forth, question for question. The other teams at the bar had opportunities to answer, but overall, Chuck and Drake's team remained in the lead.

But not by much.

The men from Cordonia gave them quite a run for their money, thanks to Liam and his wealth of knowledge. But although Liam knows the majority of the answers, he is yet to speak for the team; rather, he turns to Bertrand each time after hitting the buzzer, prompting him with a different question that possesses the same answer.

"Okay, folks," the bartender announces, "this is the last question. If this team," Gunther points to Bertrand, Liam and Maxwell, "chimes in and gets it right, it will tie the game, sending us into sudden death." The bar fills with cheers, patrons shouting with excitement and pounding their fists on the tables. "Here we go. The Texas Revolution started in what year?"

There's a slight hesitation, but finally Liam turns to Bertrand and states, "The ending of the Bavarian Regency of Greece." Bertrand furrows his eyebrows, but Liam gives him a reassuring nod as he hits the buzzer.

He clears his throat. "1835?"

Everyone freezes, a hush falling over the bar in anxious anticipation.

"Folks? We've got ourselves a tied game!"

Bertrand exhales heavily, closing his eyes. Liam pats him on the back while Maxwell cheers, tugging on his brother's shoulder. The entire bar is in a fuss as Chuck and Drake stare confusingly at each other. Gunther gets back on the mic, and explains the sudden death round, which requires for each team to choose one member to represent them.

"You've got this, Li," Maxwell applauds, Bertrand smiling and nodding.

"I think… Bertrand should take this."

"Pardon my insolence, sir, but I do not find that to be a wise decision," Bertrand argues.

"I agree with my brother, Li," Maxwell nods, "you knew all those answers–"

"But Bertrand scored us those points," Liam counters, "he needs to put up a fight until the game is over. It's the principle, remember?"

Hearing Liam repeat his words, Bertrand grins, courage blooming in his chest. He looks to Savannah who is clapping, mouthing the words 'I'm so proud of you.'

"I'll do it."

Bertrand and Chuck step forward for the sudden death round, peering into each other's eyes. "Are we ready, gentlemen?" Gunther asks. Both men shake their heads yes, their gazes not leaving each other. "Let the best man win."

For a split second, Bertrand glances at his fiancée, and realizes he might not be the best man, but to her, he is. And no matter what, he's already won.

"Here's the question: made popular by an Alamo hero, this portable weapon that can kill and butcher game. Name the weapon–"

Chuck buzzes in. "The Swiss army knife." He smiles brightly, pulling out his own pocket blade and twirling it in victory.

Bertrand turns back to Liam and Maxwell, shaking his head. Maxwell mouths, 'that's okay! You did your best!' Bertand shakes his head more adamantly, but now he’s starting to grin.

"Actually," the bartender starts, "that’s incorrect, Chuck." Gunther turns towards Bertrand. "Do you have an answer, my foreign friend?"

Bertrand smirks. "You are referring to the Bowie knife."

A stillness hushes the crowd; Savannah and Riley anxiously wait, hands clasped with bated breath.

"That… is correct!"

The entire room erupts with shouts of praise and earth-shaking applause. Several men remove their ten-gallon hats to whoop in honor of the winner, the women of the bachelorette party squealing in glee.

Drake shakes Bertrand's hand before pulling him into an endearing hug. Liam and Maxwell both clap the duke on the back in congratulations. Savannah quickly cuts in, throwing her arms around her fiancé as her lips crash into his. Gunther comes over with the prize, and shakes Liam's hand. Maxwell snatches the bottle of Jack and the cash, and holds it over his head like a trophy. More shots and drinks are ordered, the night carrying on into a wild honky-tonk of a dance party.

Riley finds Liam, roping her arms around his neck as he secures his large hands to her waist.

"I'm so proud of you, partner," Riley attempts a drawl. Liam laughs, kissing her forehead as they begin to sway to the slow country beat. "Bertrand said that you actually never gave him any answers; you just… asked him questions that had the same answer"

Liam nods slowly, "Yep."

"Why?"

"Oh, my queen," he beams looking down at her, "it's the principle."

"The principle?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"A man wants to win a woman's heart."

"But Savannah loves him–"

"That's not the point," Liam counters. "A man wants to win her over… and over and over again. If I gave him the answers, that would've cheated him out of proving to her and to himself that he's worthy of her."

"Do you ever feel that way about me?" She croons.

A rosy hue swirls across Liam's cheeks. "More than you realize."

Riley presses a tender kiss to her husband’s chin before continuing their dance. "But… I gotta ask. When did you become so smart about Texas history?"

Liam chuckles. "I've been best friends with Drake Walker since I was 8 years old. We used to do our studies together, and… he was terrible at history."

"So?"

"So?" Liam stifles his toothy grin, licking his bottom lip. "Who do you think did his Texas history homework?"

"William Rys!"

~👑~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~👑~

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odditycircus-2002 · 1 year

Text

When You and Jimmy Crystal Married

You didn't notice the tension with your band much as you and Jimmy were busy with the media losing their minds over your and Jimmy's engagement. You and Jimmy were soon swarmed with paparazzi taking pictures, live interviews, and interviews for magazines. For a few months, you two were the hottest topic; whatever you were doing, somehow someone brought up your engagement.

If you're being honest, you were kinda getting sick of that sort of attention. Yet, Jimmy on the other hand was more or less thrilled by the attention, reasoning how great this whole thing is for both of your reputations, including your band's.

All of this is not to mention how busy you were with planning your wedding for the next few weeks. You hoped for something small and intimate, with close friends and family invited. Granted, he wanted to go big with it, inviting over all sorts of theater bigwigs and celebrities, business associates, and reporters. He wanted almost clinical perfection, from the seating arrangements down to the napkins. You didn't really get much of a word in the planning, and when you try to bring it up, Jimmy would assure you he just wanted to give you the whole shaboodle.

"I just want to make this big day perfect for you."

And you believed him.

Of course, he didn't stop you from choosing your bridesmaids/best man. Despite the unseen strain with some of them, that didn't stop your friends/family from being excited for you to be getting married. Or you have a bachelorette party including a bonfire, some (slightly) illegal fireworks, and nearly everyone getting blown up by said fireworks if it weren't for the fact you were near an ocean. Needless to say, you may have singed yourself slightly.

You couldn't have been more ready to explode as you clutched your bouquet of sunflowers and (Favorite Flower). Your attention is fixed on Jimmy, waiting at the altar so you may officially call each other husband and wife. Despite having your (happily crying) father walking you down the aisle, you had half a mind to break from his grip and sprint to the altar as your beating heart demands of you. On the other hand, you were glad to have your father holding on to you because, you could've sworn your knees vanished into thin air, leaving them like jelly. You're also pretty sure you may vomit from how many knots and butterflies manifest in your gut.

Luckily, you didn't, as you made it to the altar just fine. Although, you could barely remain still as the officiant went through the usual spiel. All the while Jimmy gives you a soft and loving look into your heart eyes. He's able to smoothly speak his vows to you, in contrast to you, who more or less stuttered out yours with plenty of passion. Jimmy shouldn't be surprised, but he's caught off guard when the officiant that he may kiss the bride only for you to literally sweep him off his feet to plant a big kiss on his lips. He isn't complaining though as he just kisses back in response, much to the delight of both your friends and families. You also could've sworn that one of your cousins shot off a confetti cannon from the sounds of a BOOM followed by raining confetti, which mixes in with the thrown rice.

You were able to invite your band/friends and some family members, including your parents. In fact, you and Jimmy first met each other's folks at your wedding! Jimmy's folks were more on the stoic side, his father being a tall wolf with all the warmth of a marble statue and his mother being that of a regal queen. You felt talking to them was like talking to the cool kids back in high school, only this was with in-laws.

Your folks were very much the opposite, as they were pleased as punch to finally meet your dear Jimmy. In fact, it was your father who straight-up bawled when he witnessed you and Jimmy tie the knot while your mother basically held him, also teary-eyed. They welcomed your husband with open arms into the family, given how he's one of them now. Well, until either death or he breaks your heart, your father jokes with a smile that seems just a bit too friendly. A smile that made your new husband choke back on a whimper, but you laugh off.

You didn't think much about your father's threat/joke during your honeymoon with Jimmy on his yacht while out at sea to enjoy the tropical islands. Such as enjoying dining with your husband while watching the breathtaking sunset, before cuddling up to him as you both stargazed and chatted for hours. Jimmy claiming as much as he loves sunsets and sunrises, they don't compare to rising and setting with you every night. You damn near tackled Jimmy off the boat when you embraces him.

During that trip, you and Jimmy would go snorkeling at the coral reefs and scuba dive to an underwater city occupied by more aquatic folks for sightseeing. You and Jimmy loved being able to watch an entire aquatic performance underwater including, glowing squids, octopi playing drums, and dolphins doing acrobatics.

enjoyed all the perks at a resort where you were determined to try EVERY activity offered there, much to your husband's chagrin as you dragged him to every single one. That's not to say he hated them all, as he did enjoy the couples dancing class, marimba, and spa. He never thought he'd enjoy a seaweed wrap so much! He always loves hearing you sing as well, so karaoke hours weren't so bad as well, given how pride would swell in his chest as he watches you perform up on stage, sometimes singing songs with him in mind, making him fall for you all over again.

"That's my wife up there!"

You once heard Jimmy shout after you finished a song, causing you to smile widely and give a sheepish laugh.

Not surprisingly, you also would drag him up to the front of the crowd to sing a duet with you as you gaze deeply into one another's eyes.

Although he won't admit it and will take it to his grave, he did work a bit even during your honeymoon, specifically whenever you two were separated or you were too occupied to notice. He justifies to himself it wasn't too much though! Just a few minor emails and phone calls here and there, and helping out with some last-minute details, that's all! Besides, what you don't know won't hurt you...

After your honeymoon, things were more or less the same with both you and your band, you would say. Granted, you and your band sometimes would squabble amongst yourselves over financial, marketing, or creative differences. You also couldn't help but notice how YOU were getting a lot more attention from the public over your bandmates. Sure, you were always more or less the face-man of your band, but the fact this attention was also pushing your friends to the sidelines is something else. But you could easily talk with your husband to help fix this situation.

Right?

Playlist while writing:

"La Vie en Rose" Cover by Emily Watts

"I'll Never Not Love You" by Michael Buble

"Everything at Once" By Lenka

"Trouble is a Friend" by Lenka

"Love the Way you Lie" By Eminem and Rihanna

#Sing #my last post was actually gonna be longer but I broke the character limit for that. I know #Sing2 #My writing #jimmy crystal #sing jimmy crystal #reader insert #x reader #Jimmy crystal x reader #sing 2021 #sing illumination #Sing movie #sing 2016 #reader headcannons #reader hcs #Crystal Wolf #Sing Illumination

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errygarcha · 1 year

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What if he doesn’t want to marry me?

An indulgent, whimsical Quinn Hughes fanfiction, where a drunk bachelorette wonders if her adoring fiancee doesn’t want to marry her.

Erica knew that Quinn loved her. He told her nearly every morning after all, which one would assume it made it hard to forget. Everyone who knew Erica and Quinn knew about the deep, mutual, exclusive admiration they held each other in. Which made it strange, how Erica was currently on the floor of an Orlando pub bathroom, in tears. After all, what type of bachelorette didn't have a mental breakdown over whether or not her fiancee and significant other of five years loved her in the week prior to her wedding?

“But what if he doesn't love me? What if he regrets proposing to me? What if something happens, what if we have to cancel the wedding?” Erica wailed, while kneeling next to the sink. Beside her were two of her bridesmaids, Anna and Gabby. Gabby, being the only one of the trio to maintain her sobriety throughout the night, acted as the voice of reason. “That man loves you so much. If anything, HE should be the one worried that you will cancel the wedding!” Gabby said, grabbing some napkins from the dispenser by the sink

“FOR REAL” Anna all but shouted. “Actually, we should facetime him, so he can know that you're too hot to marry him and YOu are calling off the wedding before he can!” Anna exclaimed triumphantly, proud of her point. Erica sat there blankly, drunkenly processing Anna’s point. While Erica’s reaction was delayed due to her stupor, Gabby’s certainly was not. “Anna, that is not what Erica was saying” Gabby said with a laugh, finding humor in the antics. However, Gabby was now not by the sink, but in a bathroom stall. Gabby did not see Anna pulling Erica’s phone out of her purse, holding it up to her face to unlock it. Before Gabby had any idea what the girls were up to, Quinn had already picked up the call.

Quinn Hughes was never the type to make comments or try to control his girlfriends actions. Maybe that's why Erica and Quinn worked so well together. They both held each other in such a high regard, placing so much trust in the other, that there never was an inkling of insecurity or doubt. However, Quinn was not going to lie. When Erica had told him of her bachelorette party plans in Orlando, he was worried. Not that he was scared she was going to cheat on him or anything, he knew how serious Erica was in their relationship. But he also knew Erica’s friends, and the predicaments they seemed to find themselves in after they dabbled in a bar or too.

Needless to say, when he answered his phone, he was not surprised to see Anna’s face instead of his dear Erica’s. “Hi Quinnnnn!” Anna slurred. “Hello Anna,” Quinn replied. “How are you?” he asked. “I’M perfectly perfect and fine,” Anna happily shared. “Erica doesn’t want you to break up with her ever, so she is going to break up with you first.” Anna shared, before promptly hanging up the call.

“Done!” She said, with a self gratified smile. Miss girl had no idea what she did, but she was more than happy to simply be involved.

The silence of the bathroom was short lived as Gabby’s phone began to ring. Now, she was out of the stall and washing her hands. Taking care of her two drunk friends was much like having toddlers to tend to. After a few seconds, when her hands were washed and dried, Gabby answered the phone, unsurprised to hear Quinnn’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, Gabby’” Quinn leads “Oh my god, Quinn” Gabby breathes out, the two exchange a relieved, awkward chuckle. “Not meaning to steal bachelorette time, but what are you guys up to?” Quinn felt, for lack of a better term, douchey. After all, what kind of guy calls his fiance's bridesmaids on a bachelorette trip? A douchey, clingy one. “More like what are you guys down too, Erica and Anna are on the floor in this bar’s bathroom.” “Can I talk to her” Quinn asked. Truth be told, he did miss his intended. In a few short weeks, they are meant to walk down the aisle, become one, and all that jazz. It is very natural that he had a few questions about any declaration of these plans being altered.

“Erica, I have Quinn on the phone, he wants to talk to you” Gabby said, while crouching down next to Erica on the floor. The duo became a trio, and all three women were now on the bathroom floor. “Oh no, what if he doesn’t like me, what if he's calling me to say he doesn’t like me anymore…” Erica slurred together, but she did manage to grab Gabby’s phone from her outstretched arm.n

“Baby, are you there?” Quinn asked gently, his words slightly terse, but his tone full of love. “QUINNIE” Erica yelped, “I’m here” she replied, while closing her eyes and leaning against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom. You’re NOT going to throw up, you’re NOT going to throw up. The mantra echoed against the walls of Erica’s head.

“How are you doing, darling?” Quinn inquired. All he wanted was his fiancee with him, so he could make sure she was safe. And the other girls too, lord knows what Erica and her bridesmaids have gotten up to in Florida. “I am good, my love, what are you?” she naturally replied. Of course, she meant how are you, or maybe ‘what are you up to’. But Quinn was grateful to hear her voice.

“I’ve been good. So I am going out on a limb here and saying that the wedding is still on?” Comedic lilt gilded his words. Quinn wasn’t sure he’d ever master how to talk to drunk girls on bathroom floors. That craft was better left to the masters, the other drunk girls on bathroom floors. God, where they wonder to behold.

“Only if you want, like I don’t want you to be unhappappappy” Erica rambled, before coming to a slightly percussive end. “My love, why would I not want to marry you?” Quinn asked. He was curious about her response. Erica usually presented herself as confident, and usually was very self assured. “Well I don’t know, I’m very loud I don’t want you to feel like you’re marrying me out of duty or I don’t know” Erica replied. Well that certainly did not bring Quinn any clarity.

“Babygirl, I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life. You are the only person in the world who I have shared every part of my physical, mental, and emotional being. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, unique and wonderful woman I have ever known. I would do anything for you, I am prepared to lay down my life for you. Erica Marie Connors, you are my life. I can’t wait for you to be Mrs. Hughes. I would do it right now if I could.”

Wow. Even in her drunken state, Erica was dazed with Quinn's profession. So dazed. So dizzyingly, subliminally, twirling dazed. The next sound Quinn heard was retching, a yelp, and a wail. After a few moments, he heard the third voice of the evening on the other end of the phone. “She’ll see you at the altar, Quinnie baby”

And just like Anna did earlier that night, she hung right up on the hockey player, without a second thought.

Quinn couldn’t wait to stop wishing for his girlfriend. He wanted his wife.

#quinn hughes #Quinn #nhl #hockey #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #drunk #marriage #doubt #flufff

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nightshift-clocking-in · 10 months

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Short fic based on a phone call I got last night and could not stop laughing about

for @crying-lightningx

1.3k words

Remus is working the graveyard shift when he gets a call, but he's realizes he's the wrong number. Wolfstar getting together if you squint.

The Friends you make at 3am

The thing no one told Remus about working graveyard was how it slowly takes over the rest of your life. A few missed lunches with friends, slowly turns into missed birthday parties— he hadn’t ment to sleep through it— and so slow Remus did not realize it, the invitations just stopped.

So Remus friends become the late night travelers of the motel he worked at. An exhausted mom carrying a sleeping toddler on her hip at midnight, in town to see a specialist. Drunk bachelor and bachelorette party goers stumbling back in disarray from thier last ‘free’ night. Sometimes a lost stripper trying to find the room of the soon to be married for a last dance.

But in the quite hours between the drunk partiers and the early rise construction workers, was his favorite. Those there the hours he could just read. That was the other thing no one told you about working nights, just how much reading time he had now. It was the main reason he kept the job after all.

He was just getting to the red room scene of red white and royal blue when the phone started to ring. Every damn time.Grumbling, Remus flipped the book over and set in on the desk, spinning his chair to pick up the phone— but it wasn’t ringing.

Confused he turned to his cellphone, the small screen lighting up and buzzing across the top of his work bag. It was not a number he recognized, but it looked local. He internally prayed it was not some day shift person calling in. He was fucking exhausted. He could not be fucked to stay another shift or try and find someone willing to come in, that was not his job.

He thought of letting it go to voicemail, but thought better of it and answered. “Hello?”

“Gilderoy?” An angry voice crackled through the speaker, something echoing in the background like like he was on speaker phone.

“Uhh,” Remus’ eyebrows scrunched, “sorry I think you have the wrong number.”

“No we don’t.” Another voice snapped, the words slightly slurring together. If he had to guess, Remus would say they were drunk or the the very least had been drinking. “You fucking man-whore gave my boyfriend your bloody number last night. Don’t pretend to be someone else you stupid little—”

A laugh bubbled of him before he could stop it, because this was not happening right now was it? “Sorry but I really think you have the wrong number. I work graveyard, and gay as the day is long. So I don’t think I stole your boyfriend. Plus if he took the number, I wouldn’t blame the other person, honestly. That’s on your boyfriend.”

“I’m gay too!” The slurry voice called again, higher pitched than Remus would have assumed was a man, but that’s why he shouldn’t assume he guessed.

There was a squabble between two people. Was it the previously mentioned boyfriend? Honestly this was the most entertaining thing to happen to Remus yet tonight. Would they fight? Would he be able to over hear them?

After some muffled sounds, clearly the two fight over the phone, a nicer not as drunk voice said, “So sorry for bothering you.” Then the line went dead.

Remus pursed his lips, tossing the phone back onto his bag. He was kinda dissapointed, if he was being completely honest, how that conversation would have ended was going to haunt him for the rest of his night. Unable to do anything about it, Remus opened his book and resumed reading.

Fifteen minutes when by— he was just getting to the steamy bits between Alex and Henry— when his phone rang again. Twice in one night? That was not normal. He scooped it up to find that, it was the same number as before.

“Hello?”

“Hey bruv,” The second calmer voice who had not called him a man-whore said, “Do you wanna know what happened?”

Remus tucked a napkin into his book and leaned back in his chair. “Oh yeah, I was going to be wondering about you guys all night. Tell me everything.”

“Okay, well my best mate, Sirius. He apologizes for calling you all the stuff earlier by the way, we were just caught up in the moment. We were at the Leaky Cauldron, and he stepped out for a smoke and grabbed Benjy’s jacket— that’s his ex by the way— because he had the smokes, and then when he opened the package this folded up number fell out. And it was some bloke named Gilderoy—”

“Gilderoy,” Who Remus guessed was Sirius hissed, “What a proteinaceous bloody name. Imagine trying to moan that during sex?” Remus snickered, and Sirius giggled too, “See even he thinks it a stupid name don’t you? Um… what’s his name?” He mock whispered.

“I’m Remus.” He added helpfully, a smile pulling at his lips.

“See even Remus thinks Gilderoy is a dumb name.” he slurred, followed by a crash of metal, like he had just tumbled into a trashcan.

“Careful,” The other man sighed, “Anyway, we find this number and give it a call but in our hurry, we got the last two digits switched and we called you instead.”

Remus nodded, “I figured it was something like that.”

“Well,” they continued, “We called the right number, and you won’t belive it but Gilderoy didn’t answer but his boyfriend did.”

“No.” Remus laughed. This just kept getting better and better.

“YES!” They shouted through a laugh, “And then his boyfriend Edgar, he apparently works with Benjy at the leaky Cauldron. Now he’s headed to the cauldron to beat the shit out of Benjy and we decided to bounce before shit got bad.”

“Isn’t James so mean, Remus?” Sirius said super close to the microphone now, “He won’t even let me stay to watch my shitty ex get his ass kicked.”

“Sirius a strong wind could kick your ass right now,” James huffed, “Plus you have gotten us black listed from every other bar in town. I’m making us leave to preserve our future friday nights!”

Remus laughed—a full belly kid of laugh— until tears started to prick in his eyes, and he was wheezing for breath. He could not remember the last time that he had this much fun, and he wasn’t even there.

But for a moment he could pretend, walking the cold street the smell of rain mixed with the sewage in the street; trying not to throw up. He needed to make some new friends, he missed this feeling.

“Hey Rems,” He could hear Sirius smile through the phone. “Your working right? Where you working this late?”

“Uhh, the hotel across the London Bridge St.”

“That’s so close!” Sirius shouted. Remus was beginning to think that was just how he talked, always on the verge of yelling. “Do you like burgers?”

“Yeah? But I think most people like burgers?”

“Great, we are gonna bring you some.” Sirus announced proudly. “Your one of our mates now, okay?”

Remus chuckled to himself, “Okay.”

“Okay, see you soon Rems.” And before the call ended, he swore he heard Sirius say “He sounds pretty cute don’t you think?”

Remus tossed his phone the table, still laughing about the whirlwind of the last twenty minutes. Stretching out his long limbs, with a groan he got up and made some fresh coffee. It sounded like his new mates needed something to sober them up, and it was the least he could do with them bringing him a burger.

Remus grabbed his book and dropped it into his bag. He had a feeling he would not be needing it tonight. Maybe it was not impossible to make new friends working the graveyard shift— you just had to meet the right ones.

#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders fanfic #fanfic #marauders fandom #wrong number au #cheating ex #Mars drabbles

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angesaurus · 10 months

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Ya know it’s not necessarily the shower - this is for my friend and I’m so happy to do this for her and to reciprocate what she’s done for me (3 showers, bachelorette party, wedding, my kids godmother etc) but planning this with 5 other girls is absolutely terrible. Everyone just picks and chooses what they want to handle, we try to do a point person and the one girl claims it’s her but then doesn’t do half of it and then multiple try to get involved and get annoyed. Like they’re worrying about napkin colors. NAPKIN COLORS!!!!!!! The place is so decorated already, they’re adding so much extra shit. Just do white napkins no one will die. No one is going to remember what color the napkins were. They will worry if there was enough food for them to eat and that they can see her open their present THATS IT.

#thank god this is a baby shower and not a bridal shower because if I had to deal with these girls for a bachelorette and a wedding ????#nah

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emerysaks · 2 years

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Howard Stark: Inadvertent Wingman

It had been a long night, and Angie was ready to go home. She made her biggest tips bartending on Saturday night, but she also dealt with the wildest crowds. After two bachelorette parties, she was exhausted, and it was only 10 p.m. She had at least four more hours before she could trudge home and flop on her bed.

Raucous laughter rang out as a large group bustled through the doors, and Angie groaned. Howard Stark was finally making an appearance at The Oakhurst Lounge. She knew it was only a matter of time. After all, the bar was the city’s newest hot spot. He was bound to show up eventually. She hadn’t thought he would show up with so many women. Even for someone with his reputation, there were… a lot.

As they made their way to two tables near the end of the bar, Stark nodded his head at Angie and waved a black card in the air. She stared back, nonplussed, and shook her head.

“I don’t come to you, pal. You come to me,” she mouthed, tapping the bar. Howard Stark might be made of money, but that didn’t make him above opening a tab at the bar like everyone else.

Angie rolled her eyes when he blew her a kiss. “Barking up the wrong tree, pal,” she laughed. She glanced at the order on her screen and reached for the bourbon and vermouth. Another Manhattan. How predictable and boring.

“Hey gorgeous, you beckoned,” came the cocky drawl. “How about you pour yourself a drink and come over and say hi. Up close and personal?”

Angie looked up mid-pour to see Howard Stark standing in front of her with a brazen smile. He waggled the card back and forth. Angie peered at him, trying to decide if the tip would be worth it. Before she could decide, Stark stumbled against the bar stool.

A feminine voice followed his fall. “Howard, how often do I have to tell you that’s not how we open a tab?”

“Geez, Peg,” Stark mumbled, rubbing his hip. “Can you not? I’m delicate.”

Angie looked over at the stunning woman who stood smirking at Stark. She stood a few inches taller than Angie, and her brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were dark, but they sparkled with mischief.

“Delusional, perhaps. Never delicate.” She smiled at Angie. “I apologize for my friend’s glaring lack of manners.”

Angie nodded, trying her best to keep her eyes from wandering, but it was hard. The woman wasn’t anything scandalous, but the excellent cut of her jacket and sheer blouse showed off her fantastic curves.

“I’m used to it by now. But I appreciate the thought,” Angie said.

The woman turned back to Stark and nodded her head. “Shall we try again?”

Stark frowned but obediently placed his card on the bartop. “I’d like to open a tab for the two tables over there.”

The woman nudged him. “And?”

He sighed. “And I apologize for objectifying you. I’m working on it.”

Angie bit back a laugh and nodded. “Apology accepted.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” the woman told him with an affectionate pat on his arm.

Howard looked like he wanted to say more, but the woman interrupted him. “I think Gloria is trying to get your attention. You’d better go before she loses interest.”

Howard peered around his friend and frowned. “She’s so fickle!” he complained and scurried back to the table.

Angie laughed and resumed mixing the drink. “I see the rumors are well founded.”

“You have no idea,” the woman responded dryly.

“Are you his handler?”

“Good God, no,” the woman sighed. She held out a hand. “Peggy Carter, Strategic Information Officer for Stark Industries.”

Angie smiled and shook it. “Angie Martinelli, bartender for the Oakhurst Lounge.

Peggy laughed and withdrew her hand. “A pleasure.”

Angie placed the drink on a napkin and slid it down the bar. Glancing at the next order, she grabbed a clean glass. “Do all Stark executives hold the same sway over Howard Stark?”

Peggy shook her head. “I’m also one of Howard’s oldest friends.” She paused. “And, occasional wrangler when his libido gets in the way of his brain.”

Angie smirked. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

Peggy sighed. “Sometimes, it seems that way.”

“Well, how about a drink on the house? My way of thanking you for calling off Howard Stark and his libido.” Angie winked at her.

Peggy leaned against the bar. “What do you suggest?”

“Fancy a spritz?”

“That sounds perfect.”

Angie quickly mixed the drink and placed it in front of Peggy. “Enjoy!” She opened her mouth to ask Peggy more about herself and how she could stand working for such a buffoon, but stopped when a patron down the bar waved to get her attention. She gave Peggy an apologetic look. “Duty calls.”

“Of course. Thank you again for the drink.”

“My pleasure,” Angie beamed. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

“I’d like that,” Peggy smiled. She returned to her group, and Angie grinned.

Maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#ficlet #angie martinelli #peggy carter #howard stark #agent carter bingo #acb2022 #agent carter #peggy x angie

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jflowers52741 · 8 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Gartner Studios Napkin Cocktail Fling Pink Foil 20 Count.

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healthtechservixes · 11 months

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Night Clubs & Parties Fort Lauderdale, Miami, South Florida

We link our clients with the greatest nightclubs and VIP hosts in South Beach; bachelorettes occasionally receive complimentary VIP and bottle service; we also offer bachelors discounts at gentlemen's clubs. Our buses are fully supplied with everything you need for a memorable party, including ice, glasses, bottled water, napkins, and more!

#partybusmiami #PartyBusRental #partybussouthFL #nightclubs #NightClubs&Parties #PartyBusFortLauderdale

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rina-writes · 2 years

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The Perfect Pair

A/N: The lovely @halfmoondaze and I chatted about this ages ago, but I didn’t have a good idea at the time. However, it’s been awhile since I wrote something pure fluff and wanted to push myself a bit since I’ve been in a bit of a writing funk. This is an unofficial sequel of Say Yes, where Jack proposes to an introverted reader. This is definitely stand alone, so you don’t have to read the other blurb if you don’t want to.

Summary: It’s your wedding day and stresses are at an all time high. Jack has shouldered most of the responsibilities for the wedding, but when a last minute hiccup unravels all of his plans, you are the one who saves the day.

Warnings: Fem!reader, introverted!reader, fluffy fluff fluff

In a surprising turn of events that, with second thought probably didn’t actually surprise anyone, Jack turned out to be a huge Groomzilla. He wasn’t bad in the made-for-television kind of way. He didn’t have any outrageous meltdowns over napkins. Nor, did he threaten to stab someone’s eyes with a shrimp fork when they questioned his choice of ranch dressing on half of the menu (but he came pretty close). Instead, it was a death by a thousand cuts. It was stone cold in his delivery of what needed to change and unapologetic for how many times something had to be redone in order to get it to his liking. He was happy to help, of course, whatever it took to get it right. To some degree, people may have preferred a large outburst.

Like his music, Jack was particular about his wedding. He wanted it to be perfect, not for his sake, but for yours. In all actuality, he didn’t care a lot about the ceremony, but he knew it was important to you. He also knew that your naturally conflict adverse personality meant that you would go along with anything to make other people happy. He couldn’t help you on the bride only things: the bridal shower, the bachelorette party, and your wedding attire. Those were battles between you and your family/friends/bridal party. The only thing he could do was that everything else went according to plan. If people called him picky or an asshole because of it, Jack just shrugged it off. Your happiness was more important to him than being amicable for the sake of anyone else.

You knew all of this even without Jack saying it out loud. Jack loved to take care of you and handling your daily problems was his favorite way to do it. Your landlord hiked up your rent halfway through your lease? Jack was there with the lease document in hand arguing over breach of contract. Someone kept talking over you in a conversation? Jack would boldly declare that he was interested in hearing the rest of your story. And then, when you would begin to lose your nerve under the gaze of the whole group, he would make a joke about how they are going to make you nervous if they kept staring at you like that.

That’s why when Jack’s mother groaned loudly every time she saw her son’s caller ID on her phone, you could only give a sympathetic smile. Jack was getting on her nerves so that you wouldn’t have to. You were sitting in your chair, getting your makeup and hair done. The rest of your bridal party was also getting ready around you. You started at yourself in the silky white robe with ‘Bride’ etched on the back trying to enjoy the moment. Instead, your eyes kept darting back to your future mother-in-law through the mirror. She was rubbing the space between her eyes, pacing back and forth. As if feeling your eyes on her, she glanced up at you, her eyes locking with your reflection, and gave you a faint smile. She sat down quickly and began to talk to her son in a hushed, reassuring tone. You could hear Jack yelling in the background which only seemed to stress the woman more.

You felt guilty about the sacrifices he was making to make sure you didn’t have to solve your own problems. You were also starting to worry that this was setting up your marriage to be one sided. Surely there had to be issues that Jack was overwhelmed about too. Who did Jack go to when he needed to solve problems outside of his control? You knew he had his friends and his family, but you wanted to be the number one person he could rely on. That’s what he did for you, after all.

With a loud sigh, Jack’s mother ended the call and gave you an exasperated smile. “So, the photographer is at the wrong venue.” She rested a hand on your shoulder. “Jack didn’t want me to tell you, but he’s scrambling right now and I felt like you should know.”

You groaned. This was a huge source of confusion. Your venue had a similar name to another wedding venue another town over. Your venue was slightly pricier than the other one because of the view, so most wedding event professionals in the area assumed it was the other, much more popular place. You had made sure to note the difference on all the wedding invitations and business proposals, but, alas, someone was bound to make the mistake. It would take the photographer an hour to get to the correct venue and they were supposed to be here two hours ago. Luckily, Jack’s and your entourage had quite a few photographers in attendance who popped in to take photos of the bridal party and the groomsmen as they got ready. You assumed they were also taking photos of the guests so, at least there would be some photos from before the ceremony. However, the same people taking pictures were supposed to be in the ceremony. As much as you appreciated them picking up the slack, you also felt bad that they were working. Urban, especially, since he was the best man, shouldn’t be behind the camera today of all days.

“Are we almost done?” You asked your makeup artist.

“Just need the setting spray and we are good.” She confirmed.

“Adrienne,” You said, addressing one of your friends who was a hobby photographer. “I think I want to do the first look now. We’ll probably delay the ceremony for 90 minutes to allow the photographer to get here and set up. Would you be able to take the first couple of pictures us and then get out of there so, I can talk to Jack one-on-one. I want to help him calm down.”

“Don’t worry,” Adrienne, who was already dressed and ready to go, held up her camera. “I got you, Y/n.”

You paused for a moment to get sprayed, thanking your MUA before hopping out of the chair.

“Erica,” You turned to another one of your bridesmaids who was charismatic and well-organized. “Would you be able to help us buy some time by distracting the guests? I think the caterer had some back up appetizers, we can have them roll those out. If you can get the groomsmen and the rest of the bridal party out there mingling that will help distract the guests too.”

Erica nodded, pleased to be depended on. “Absolutely!”

“Oh,” You put a hand on her arm. “And please please please make sure that they stick to the light cocktails we prepared. I don’t care how long they wait, the open bar does not start until after the ceremony. I am not having anyone drunk as a skunk at my wedding.”

“You got it!” Erica snapped her fingers toward you with a wink.

You turned around to look at your dress, suddenly realizing how silent the room had fallen. You blushed a bit as you realized everyone was staring at you.

“What?” You asked, “Do I look weird?”

“No, sweetheart.” Your mother cooed. “It’s just--I can’t remember the last time I saw you so assertive. It’s nice. It’s a good look on you.”

You gave her an embarrassed laugh as you gave her a side hug. “I mean, I’m a little introverted…”

“A little?” Half of the room seemed to say in unison causing a rumble of laughter.

“Okay, a lot.” You laughed. “But you all know I can talk a mile a minute about anything I am obsessed with.”

“Jack being number one on the list!” Your maid-of-honor chirped earning a few more laughs from the room.

“Annnd” You dragged the word to bring the attention back to the situation. “Because Jack needs me right now, I need to be on my A-game. So, that’s why I am asking you all for help. Most importantly, can someone help me get into this dress?”

You asked pointing at it. Your mother and future mother-in-law raised their hands to volunteer, and helped you to shimmy into your dress. Jack was insistent that you got your dream dress. Even though your family wanted to pay for it, he was more than happy to cover any difference if you went over budget. As you looked at yourself in the full length mirror, tears welded in your eyes. You were getting married to the love of your life, Jack Harlow. As the veil was placed on your head, you had to look upward to keep the tears from ruining your makeup. The makeup artist ran over to dab your eyes with tissues before running around to help the rest of the bridal party. Adrienne had managed to snap photos between tears and you were all ready to go.

Jack could tell his hair stylist was getting on his nerves. Every time he re-entered the groomsmen suite, his hair was messier than when he last came in. He couldn’t help it. Running his hands through his curls was a nervous habit he had ever since he was a kid. He stood still for the person to spray water on his hair, wrap each of the straightened curls around a finger before dropping it to make it springy. He tried to calm down, looking past his stylist to himself in the mirror. He looked great. The tuxedo fit him perfectly and he knew how much you loved him in black, so you were going to like it too. His facial hair was neatened making his jaw look sharp and helped to bring attention to his sapphire colored eyes.

Just as the stylist was spritzing his hair with holding spray, Adrienne popped her head into the dressing room.

“They said it was okay since you’re already dressed.” She said, to the room full of men staring at her wide eyed. She grinned widely, “Time for the first look!”

“But the photographer…” Jack said, walking over. His hand raised to touch his hair, but the stylist smacked it.

“Ow….” Jack responded, giving the person a glare only to have a glare returned with the same intensity. Jack cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment and made a mental note to not touch his hair for the foreseeable future.

“Y/n has coordinated it.” Adrienne showed her camera. “I’ll fill you in on our way to the first look spot. Meanwhile, Erica will fill your boys in on what’s coming next.”

Right on cue, Erica pushed the door back all the way grinning from ear-to-ear. She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention, busting into the room to deliver the plan. Jack didn’t have time to hear it as Adrienne was already pulling him out of the room to get to the spot. The two were whizzing by the hustle and bustle of the venue that was preparing for their wedding. Jack found himself jumping from side to side to avoid waiters bringing food, guests waving enthusiastically, and flower arrangements so tall they obscured the person carrying them. He was impressed at how unfazed Adrienne was about the chaos going on around her. His mind went back to what she had said in the room.

“Did you say Y/n coordinated this?” As he walked briskly behind Adrienne, having to swing his arms to keep up with her despite her shorter legs and high heels.

“Mhmm…” Adrienne said, more focused on setting up her camera settings. “She overheard your conversation with your mom and sprung into action. She’s actually pretty good at this kind of stuff. When, you know, it means helping out the people she loves. But, why I am telling you that…”

She stopped walking as they arrived in the spot. Jack shook his head as he allowed Adrienne to turn him and push him toward his position. They were standing on the veranda at the back of the venue. It overlooked where the reception was going to be held. There was a spot for Adrienne to stand and take pictures before making a getaway to leave the couple to be alone.

“Thank you for reminding me.” Jack smiled to himself, clasping his hands in front of him. He twiddled with his thumbs nervously. “Y/n is a strong, amazing, beautiful woman. Sometimes I forget that she’s not some precious flower I have to protect all the time. I just can’t help it. I want to take care of her, you know? Shield from everything nasty in the world. I just love her so much.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You said, standing behind him.

Jack’s closed his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. He was a little embarrassed and could feel himself turning red. He tried to calm down for the photos, already hearing his friends chanting “Reddy Freddy” in the back of his mind. He took a deep breath before turning around to look at you.

“Holy sh--” Jack could feel the tears coming to his eyes when he saw you.

You smiled widely, unable to get the words out to express yourself either. You took a few steps closer and Jack instantly reached out for you. He cupped your head gently, careful not touch your veil and leaned in to give you a kiss. You smiled pulling back and sucking your lips into your mouth with a shake of your head. You bit back a smile at his flabbergasted face.

“We have to wait…” You reminded him.

Jack gave you an annoyed expression, “Let’s not pretend we haven’t done this before along with much more.”

You slapped his arm and gestured to the camera with your head. “There’s a recording, you know.”

“It’s fine we’ll mute it…” Jack laughed before turning to the camera, “...and if not, sorry Grandma! At least she’s still wearing white, though.”

You laughed loudly, all the nerves bundled in your stomach releasing the moment Jack had touched your skin. His hands sunk to your waist as if deciding that if he couldn’t kiss you, this was the next best thing.

“Hi…” Jack said in a soft voice.

“Hi…” You responded in the same tone.

Jack smiled at you, studying your features. “God, seeing you look this beautiful and not being able to kiss you is torture.”

“But the next time you do, you’ll be kissing your wife.” You reminded him, a coy smile on your lips.

That brightened Jack’s entire face. He looked like a kid in a candy store. “God, you’re gonna be my wife! God, that sounds so good to say.” He pretended to be introducing you to someone. “Oh, this is Y/n, my wife. She is beautiful isn’t she? But she’s also incredibly smart, supportive, and by all measurements my better half.”

“I want to kiss you so bad…” You said, tears welding in your eyes.

“Welcome to the club.” He took out a dark colored handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at your tears. He mentally thanked his father for the tip to carry the fabric with him today.

“What did you do about the photographer?” Jack asked. “They are probably still 30 minutes away.”

“Don’t worry, handsome.” You said, hugging him tightly. “I got this. We’ll start the ceremony in an hour. It’s all going to work out. Erica will direct you.”

Jack hugged you back just as tightly. “I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle towards me.”

“You better cry or I’m going back out.” You teased.

You heard your mother call your name and you turned around to see her waving you over. You saw that Adrienne had disappeared awhile ago, giving you and Jack alone time.

“Oh I definitely am.” Jack looked down at you. “See you soon, baby. I love you.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with happiness. “I love you, too, Jack.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #r-writes-fic

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chiwhorei · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come.

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget.

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots.

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing.

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space.

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance.

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest.

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil.

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.”

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle.

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins.

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.”

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet.

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back.

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.”

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice.

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming.

Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding.

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention.

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines.

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?”

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do.

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke.

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough.

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck.

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil.

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago.

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color.

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs.

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into.

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do.

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back.

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap. Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome.

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges.

When was the last time you felt this alive?

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map.

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?”

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls.

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood.

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.”

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses.

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?”

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

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bluefirewrites · 3 years

Note

ghost/living person AU. haaaaaaa jokes

but no seriously - knocking on the wrong door AU :) (juke ofc)

Slinging pizzas is not on the tippy-top of his list of aspirations. But he had to finance his rise to rockstardom somehow.

It's not all that bad. It gives him the chance to drive around, listen to music, and sometimes, if not most times, have his arrival be the highlight of someone's day.

He's been doing this for some years now, and he's pretty sure he's had his fair share of experiences while on the job- getting chased by a guard dog, getting mistaken for a stripper (he had barely escaped that bachelorette party with his clothes still on) and the occasional rude customer who couldn't bother to leave a tip.

But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for a crying girl in cheetah slippers answering the door.

As in, she opened the door, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

Crap.

Luke's eyes bugged out and his mouth flapped open and closed, unsure how to handle the situation. This clearly hasn't been laid out in the training videos.

"Hey, hey there, uh," he fumbled with the boxes, "I, uh, got your pizzas?"

Please, please stop crying...

The promise of food usually incited some positive reaction, but this girl is struggling to keep it together. "I-I" she sniffles, "I didn't order a pizza..."

Then she launches into heavy waterworks and Luke- God he has no grasp on how to handle emotions (Alex says he needs to work on that)- sets the pizzas down and lamely offers her one of the napkins (one not too destroyed by the oily residue of the boxes).

"T-Thanks," The girl blows her nose into one. It takes a second for her to calm down, and Luke wonders why he hasn't bowed out yet, but what an asshole move of him to just leave while this girl is clearly upset.

"You good?" His instinct is to offer a comforting touch, but she's a stranger and she might not appreciate it. Still, he's gentle and wants to make sure she's alright.

The girl shakes her head, "I'm sorry, it's just- this really isn't the best time. Like literally, literally, the worst week of my actual life. And today's been godawful and I guess- I guess I just snapped. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry. I get it. I do. Bad days- or weeks- happen to the best of us. But ultimately we'll get through it. Food usually helps," Luke eyed the boxes on the floor, "Speaking of which, are you sure you didn't order 2 large pepperoni, pickle, and pineapple pizzas?"

That coaxed an incredulous cough from the girl, "Why... would I do that to myself?"

Luke laughed at that, "God no. I can't sometimes with these customers."

The girl finally let out a hint of a smile, "If it were me, it'd be margherita." "We have an insanely good margherita pizza. Oh wait, hold on-" Luke whipps out a menu for Sunset Slices, "Here. If you're ever craving for it. Call and say Luke sent you, we'll hook you up with a discount." "Wow," The girl takes the menu and looks at him curiously, "T-Thanks."

"No problem," he grinned, "Now I gotta go find these pizzas' true home. So, uh, 4B?" "That'd be the next one over," Luke picks up the boxes, "Thanks, and I'm really sorry about your bad day. I hope it does turn around,"

Now it's the girl's turn to smile, "I think it just did."

Before Luke could react to her words, she closes her door and he's left in the hallway with a stack of disgusting pizzas, wondering why, for the first time on the job, he's taken by surprise.

He properly delivers the pizzas to the girl's neighbor, hoping that they didn't hear him shit talking the order, and he drops off a couple more before circling back to the shop.

"Hey, we got an order for you. Last one and you're done for tonight," Sal hands him a box, and he's off.

As he makes his way to the car, he inspects the order.

Huh. What are the chances. A margherita pizza. And for the apartment complex he had just been at earlier.

20 minutes later, he's knocking on 3B, and the girl opens the door, this time, she smiles at the sight of him.

"A delivery for Julie?"

She nods and accepts the box, "Hmm... I don't think I can finish this all by myself."

And that's how Luke ends up inside, splitting a pizza with a customer and talking and laughing for much of the night. She rants about work, drama with an ex-friend, and he listens and makes jokes when appropriate, all of which to get her to laugh more. Which is becoming one of the more pleasant tones he's heard in a long time.

He tells her about his music, his dreams for the band, and she doesn't laugh then. No. She doesn't laugh at him for dreaming the way he does, which he appreciates.

When the pizza's finished and Luke sees himself out, the girl, Julie scribbles something onto a napkin and slips it into his jacket, he later finds out to be her number.

"It'd be rude to not tip,"

With a giggle, she pushes him out the door and Luke lets her, too far gone on the sound to protest.

He sports a stupid grin on the way back to his car.

Okay.

Delivering pizzas?

Best job ever.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #blue answers asks #blue wanted to inflict punishment on herself #yes give me more prompts #hopefully i'll answer them #lol #but for you imène i would #juke #pizza delivery man! luke

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uncensored-steve-the-platypus · 3 years

Text

Drool

Warnings: Bad language words, painfully awkward reader, Bucky in a tux

Word count: 1279

A/N: This was written for @a-little-counter-esperanto’s Birthday Challenge!

The prompt I chose (and took a few liberties with) is “On the long flight to your best friend’s destination bachelorette, you pass out, drooling, on the shoulder of your seatmate.

When you arrive at the wedding, you are mortified to discover that your seatmate is the best man, and you spend the rest of the wedding weekend trying to avoid him.” Enjoy!!

You weren’t sure how you got here in the first place. It’s not like you and Rachel were close anymore anyways. Somehow, though, you ended up with an invitation to her wedding. She had moved out of your hometown after high school, so you had to take a few days off to fly down to Miami. It was a long flight from Seattle to the first stop in Salt Lake City, but an even longer one from Salt Lake City to Miami. At least you had a book or two to keep you occupied . You had the aisle seat, and when your seat partner arrived, you had to get up to let him in.. You glanced over as he lowered himself into the middle seat and my God was he attractive. You had to tear yourself away from those blue eyes before you creeped him out.

“Hi.” He said.

Shit. Airplane small-talk. You were never good at small-talk. “Hello.”

He held his hand out. “I’m James.”

You shook his hand and told him your name.

“So, Y/N, what’s taking you to Miami?” James asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Wedding,” you replied, still trying not to look at him.

“Me too!”

You smiled politely, torn between wanting to hear his voice some more and wanting the small talk to be over. He decided for you. “Where you from?”

“Seattle. Had a layover in Salt Lake City. You?”

“I’ve been bouncing back and forth between Brooklyn and Louisiana, but decided to try Los Angeles for a bit. Definitely not for me. After this I’m going back to Louisiana.”

You nodded. “Okay. All over the place then.” You chuckled.

He smiled. God was he attractive. “Something like that. At least it’s all on the same continent.” You chuckled again, not wanting to pry too much into this stranger’s personal life.

As the plane took off, you turned your attention to the books you’d stuffed in the seat pocket. You grabbed one to start reading. As the plane reached cruising altitude, your eyelids felt heavy, and you dropped your book as you fell asleep.

You woke with a start. You were still in the air, so you had no idea how long you had been asleep. Unfortunately, it was long enough to notice that your head was on Jame’s shoulder, and some drool had creeped out of your mouth and onto his shirt. Wiping your mouth, you shifted your body so that your back was to him, praying that he wouldn’t say anything to you about it. It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. You were tempted to fall asleep again but the thought of drooling on the handsome stranger’s shoulder again terrified you. You picked up the book you dropped and started reading again.

Soon, the plane landed, and as soon as the fasten seatbelt light went dark above you, you scrambled out of your seat, leaving James without so much as a glance or goodbye. It doesn’t matter, you thought to yourself again. It's not like you’re going to ever see him again anyway.

You rushed out of the terminal and down to the baggage claim, praying you wouldn’t run into James again. As Rachel picked you up from the airport, she looked at you curiously. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You scoffed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Rachel was laughing behind her perfectly manicured hand. “Oh my gosh no way!” You were giggling, too, despite yourself. “He was so hot, and I drooled on him. Only me, right?!”

Rachel laughed. “Well, forget about him. I gotta introduce you to Steve’s best man. I think you’ll really like each other.” She winked.

You pulled up to the hotel where everyone is staying, and you grabbed your bags to go change for the rehearsal dinner when you heard a voice behind you. “Y/N?”

“Don’t let that be who I think it is,” you muttered under your breath. You turned around. It was James. Of course it would be. “Hello,” you said quickly as you stepped into the elevator. Unfortunately, he followed you. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you on the plane,” you replied shortly. “Wedding.”

The elevator stopped on your floor, and to your dismay, both you and James exited, and your rooms were across the hall from each other. As you plopped your suitcase on the bed to open it, you ask the empty hotel room, “Can this get any weirder?”

A couple of hours later, you realized the answer to your question was yes. It could. Rachel led you straight to him at the rehearsal dinner. “Y/N, this is Steve’s best man, James.”

“Hello, again, Y/N, call me Bucky,” James said with a smile.

“Again?” Rachel asked, but a quick look from you filled in all the blanks she needed. “Oh.”

Bucky tried to recover for you. “We met in the elevator and are room neighbors.” You nodded, grateful he didn’t mention the plane.

“Yeah,” you smiled, looking for any excuse to leave the conversation. Luckily you weren’t part of the bridal party, so you had a table on the other side of the room. At least now you could check him out from a distance. He made eye contact with you a couple of times, which you quickly avoided.

After the dinner, Bucky tried to get your attention as you dashed to the elevator. You heard him call your name as you slammed the elevator button trying to close it. It slowly closed, his incredulous look the last thing you saw as you slunk against the wall. You hid in your room. Maybe if you just read tonight, it would calm your nerves. You looked in your carry-on bag and found only one book. You sighed. You must have left the other book in the seat back pocket in your rush to avoid Bucky. Great. You flipped endlessly through the three hotel channels before crashing in bed for the night.

That next day was the ceremony, and as you sat among a bunch of people you didn’t know, your gaze kept returning to Bucky. Damn did he look good in a tux. You caught his eye a couple of times, but this time, you didn’t look away as quickly. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up and his eyes crinkle as he snuck a smile at you.

After the ceremony, you beelined to the cocktail bar. Sipping on a vodka cran, you watched as the other guests meandered to their tables. A voice behind you startled you, making you spill your drink on your arms, narrowly missing your dress. “Hey, Y/N— oh shit! Sorry!” You whirled around to see Bucky with a handful of cocktail napkins in his hand. “Here,” he said, patting your arms with the napkins.

You chuckled. “I guess this is payback for drooling on your shoulder, huh? I’m so sorry about that. It was so embarrassing.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all weekend, Y/N? Because you drooled on my shoulder on the airplane?” You nodded. “I thought it was because you weren’t interested. I thought you sleeping on my shoulder was pretty cute, actually.” After he helped you get as much of the drink off your body as he could, he said, “Go wash up in the bathroom, and I’ll save you a dance later?” You nodded again, and as you walked away, he shouted after you, “And I have your book!” Heat began to creep up to your cheeks as you giggled, shaking your head. Maybe Rachel was right about you and the best man.

#bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #birthday challenge

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carolmaximoffs · 3 years

Text

in a crowd of strangers and lovers

summary: of course your ex is working the night you get stood up.

pairing: bartender! ex! bucky x reader

warnings: drinking, cursing, smut, a teeny bit of degradation, bartender! bucky, this is entirely self indulgent, use of a condom for the first time in my writing in i think ever oops

a/n: this has been 3/4 of the way done for so long...finally sat down and cranked out the rest of it. short and sweet and maybe not my best but heres nothin.

You swung your legs idly as you glanced once more at your phone. Only the time glared back at you - no missed calls, no explanation texts, not even a Snapchat or a DM. It was 20 minutes past the time you were supposed to meet the man you’d been talking to for the last couple of months, and you sighed. Obviously, he wasn’t coming. You waved a hand to grab a bartender’s attention before closing your eyes and rubbing at your temples in annoyance. An all too familiar voice disrupted your self-pitying thoughts.

“You look like a tequila girl.” The first words Bucky Barnes had ever said to you. Your eyes snapped open, mouth gaping. Of course...how could you have forgotten? This was the very bar, possibly the very stool you’d met Bucky at. Before you could stammer out a reply, he was making himself comfortable against the bar-top and leaning in conspiratorially. “Hot date?”

“Very,” You sniffed, meeting his gaze in spite of your churning gut. In the glow of a neon sign overhead, his blue eyes burned almost violet. Your heart ached when he beamed, those beautiful stupid eyes crinkling at the corners like they always had.

“Well, sweetheart, you’ve been here for a while now. Show up early?” Bucky propped his chin up with his metal hand; his flesh fingers drummed idly as he waited for your reply. He’d always been able to see right through you; you weren’t backing down so easily this time. You’d actually been late, but Bucky didn’t need to know that. It was bad enough he’d clearly spotted you as soon as you walked in...you weren’t really sure what to do with that information. You lifted your chin, shrugging and looking around as if your evasive date might suddenly show himself.

“I’ll take that tequila now, please,” You replied simply. Bucky’s eyes twinkled with mirth before he turned his back to you.

“Margarita or a straight up shot?” He threw over his shoulder. Your answer was a moment too late - you wouldn’t admit it, but you’d gotten a little absorbed in the way his white tee shirt stretched over the broad expanse of his back. “Y/N.”

“Huh? Oh...surprise me.” You fought the urge to bury your face in your hands again as he smiled and turned back around. You chanced looking at your phone as inconspicuously as possible. Still nothing. Moments later, thick fingers slid a tall glass towards you, rim salted, accompanied with two neat slices of lime.

“M’lady,” Bucky drawled, dipping his head dramatically. He looked up at you beneath his lashes, cheeks straining to contain his grin. Your own face burned and your heart pounded as you mumbled your thanks. You took more of a long gulp than a sip. Just your luck, it caught in the back of your throat, and you spluttered a bit. Bucky looked like he’d won the lottery.

“Careful, sugar,” He crooned, passing you a napkin. Idly, you wondered if, next, you'd fall off the stool. “You know I love to see you choke, but only-”

“Barnes!”

Natasha was standing near the door to the back, arms crossed and brow arched dangerously. Your old friend offered you a tight smile before returning to glaring at her employee. Bucky winked before he sidled off, Nat’s eyes narrowing. You wished the floor would swallow you up right then.

It didn’t, and you were swirling the dregs of your margarita by the time Bucky got back. For whatever reason, you couldn’t compel yourself to leave. Not just yet. You were rewarded, however, when he realized you’d hung around; Barnes’ eyes lit up. He bit back another smile, resuming his nonchalant stance against the bar.

“What was that all about?” You blurted, before Bucky could say anything about the near-empty glass in front of you. His smirk didn’t waver.

“Just Nat lookin’ out for you, s’all. She got off a few minutes ago, wanted to make sure I didn’t give you too much trouble.” His simper stretched into a blinding flash of teeth. “I’m not givin’ you trouble, am I, babydoll?”

You shake your head dutifully, and you think Bucky’s face might split if he grins any wider. His smile drops into something a little more seductive as he tilts impossibly closer. “Looks like your boy toy’s a no show...Sam can cover if you need a little cheering up.”

Body and brain exploded into disagreement; lust bubbled like lava in the pit of your stomach at his request, but you knew better. You had to know better by now - you were the one who’d gotten too involved in the first place. You floundered, managing to blubber a painful combination of "we shouldn’t” or “I don't think that's the best idea”. Bucky’s face fell, only just, but he was quick to hide it as he untied a thick, worn flannel from his waist.

“Wilson - headed for a smoke!” He shouted across the bar to where Sam was seemingly tangled up trying to serve a very amorous bachelorette party. His eyes were steely as he looked at you as if trying to pick you apart. “Think on it, yeah? No big deal, sugar. Back in five.”

You nodded, tracing your finger through the circle of condensation from your drink. You snuck a glance at his retreating form, however, and already wanted to kick yourself. His ass in those jeans...he’d bulked up, clearly, even in the short time since you’d stop seeing each other. And there was no way in hell he thought you wouldn’t notice. The angel on your shoulder was practically throwing a tantrum as you quickly shot a text to your closest confidante.

call me in the am. about to do a bad thing

Wanda texted back almost instantly, but Bucky reentered the bar simultaneously. You clicked off your incessantly active cell phone and put on an expression you hoped wasn’t as much of a grimace as you thought. Bucky raised a single, knowing brow.

“What’s that face for?” He murmured innocuously. You lift a single shoulder in response, working extra to keep your face neutral.

“Changed your mind?” You shrugged again, and when he was sure nobody was looking, he jerked his head towards the back of the bar. “C’mon then, pretty baby.”

“This is stupid,” You mumbled under your breath. You don’t realize how close he is behind you, jumping a little as the door swings shut behind you.

“What’s stupid is waiting an hour for some douche when you’ve got me standing right in front of you,” Bucky whispered hotly, already spinning the two of you so your back hit the wall by the doorframe. A case of the imported vodka Nat loved dug into your calves.

“We split up, Bucky,” You moaned as he licked at the shell of your ear. Honestly, you were half expecting something like “i didn’t know we were together”. Instead, he pulled back for a second to give you sad eyes and a slight twist of the corner of his mouth. Regret?

Before you could truly ponder it, he was ducking back towards you, lips pressing into yours with a fire fueled by all things left unsaid. He kissed his way down your neck, and you heard his voice from months ago: ‘it’s just sex, sweetheart. just enjoy it’. You were drawn back to the present as he tugged at your lip with sharp teeth, and you recalled his gruff morning voice - ‘I better get going’. Memory pierced your hazy brain even as he slid a hand down to cup your sex. You arched into him, and he looked positively feral even in his delight. You pushed the past away as hard as you could and let yourself melt into his touch.

As your head lilted backward to likely smack the wall, Bucky tangled a hand into your hair. He tipped your face back up to kiss it incessantly - several to your cheeks, a peck on your nose, a handful of smooches dotted to your forehead. When he finally reached your mouth again you were laughing, breathy and floaty, and he laughed too. He chuckled softly with you even as he slips his hands into your jeans, past the waistband of your cute-but-not-presumptuous panties. He was still chuckling a little, but it was more smug than amused when his fingers parted your folds and you inhaled sharply.

“Yeah,” He murmured, so low you almost missed it. “There you go, that’s my girl.”

You pretended the burst of heat through your gut is from his palm bumping against your clit. You were halfway through a moan when he withdrew his hand, instead placing both dark metal and pale skin on steadfastly on your hips. Swiftly, he placed you on top of those nagging crates you’d been pressed against - despite the marks on your thighs you’d nearly forgotten about them.

“Bucky, what-” You tried, but he cut you off with a swift press of lips to yours, tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. If you sighed into the kiss, well, you’d call it heat of the moment. The familiar crinkling of foil set your anticipation and adrenaline spiking impossibly higher. Bucky pulled away to line himself up as you caught your breath, which suddenly seemed impossible. He rubbed a comforting thumb over your hip, leaning in again to nip playfully at your jaw.

“You ready, angel?” He murmured; all it took was your assenting nod before he slid home, your body greedily accepting him as if the two of you had never stopped. “Fuuuck...missed you. Missed this.”

Normally, such a suggestion would’ve irritated you - but you couldn’t deny the feelings you had had for him once upon a time, despite the casual nature of your relationship. You knew it was mutual; you knew exactly what he missed. It wasn’t just about the sex - even in the dingy storeroom of the bar, Bucky thrusting as deep as possible with one hand stabilizing the crates and the other on the small of your back, panting into each other’s mouths, it was about the connection. Being this close with another person, especially someone you dared to say you’d been good friends with, had much in common with - the interconnection of body and soul was something else. Or maybe that was your orgasm talking.

It snuck up on you. Your toes curled in your shoes, lip drew between your teeth. “Please.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky rasped, face buried in your shoulder. The hand on your back snaked between the two of you to rub furiously at your clit - you threw your arms around his neck for balance as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. “Go ahead, let go. Come for me, let me make you feel good, angel.”

That did it. Your hands found purchase in his hair as your back arched; in your desperation to be quiet, you bit your lip so hard the taste of iron crept into your mouth. Bucky never slowed, chasing his own high as well as basking with you in yours. He kissed you, a little sudden, groaning deeply into your mouth as he came.

For a moment, the pair of you were silent, the only sound your heavy breaths and the rustling of clothing. Composing yourself, you made for the door - a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“This was a fluke, I know-” You started. The desperate look in Bucky’s eyes cut you off.

“I don’t...let me try again.” He mumbled, words jumbling together with nerves. He cleared his throat - you’d never seen Bucky Barnes nervous, of all things, and humility wasn’t a bad look for him. “You deserved - deserve better, sweetheart. I want to try again. I want to...I want to do it right.”

“Buck...” Your face softened, but he tensed, fearing rejection. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek softly. “I’d love to try again.”

That nagging voice in the back of your mind was on a roll - you’ll just get hurt again, it warned. He’s not good for you.

But when Bucky’s entire face lit up and he kissed you enthusiastically, making you laugh in equal parts shock and joy, that little voice was silent.

#i don’t like this but i need to get back into writing!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bartender!bucky #bucky barnes au #carolmaximoffs

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shewillreadyou · 3 years

Text

Haven’t met you yet

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: NS*FW (+18) don’t read this fic if you’re a minor; period.

Word Count: 1887

Prompts: @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” will appear in BOLD

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Haven’t met you yet -Michael Buble

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

A replay of the Royal wedding of King Liam and Queen Carsyn of Cordonia was playing in the background as she packed her clothes in the small carryon. She giggled when they kissed. Although it was rumored that the king was into black women, something seemed off when he kissed his bride. She had watched this wedding a half dozen times and still couldn’t really put her finger on it. She was headed to New York to stand up in the wedding of one of her sorority sisters. After landing her dream job in Dallas, Riley couldn’t wait to meet her sorors in New York to celebrate. After all, Norah was about to marry the man of her dreams and Riley was truly happy for them.

There was currently no man in Riley’s life and no prospects. Maybe she’d meet someone in Dallas or maybe she was destined for the life of a career woman. Maybe there would be no happily ever after for her. She turned out the lights in her new downtown Dallas apartment, and grabbed her carry on dragging it to the door as she headed to the airport.

She opened the door to see her latest amazon purchase on the door mat. She took a moment to retreat inside to open the box. She was hoping it was delivered before she had to head out. Her pink Bedroom Kandi toy was still packed away lost in the sea of boxes crammed into her guestroom. She knew that she would not survive this long weekend in NYC without some form of sexual entertainment. She was disappointed when she opened the box to find her new toy was smaller than the picture made it look. Her flight left in 2 hours and her uber was downstairs so she shoved the disappointing toy in the side of her bag and headed down.

After the uneventful three hour flight, she finally landed at JFK. Mack was supposed to pick her up from the airport. She stood to the side as people herded to baggage claim to send a quick text. A group of men came from the opposite direction. One was this tall, very attractive Asian guy who looked alot like King Liam. He was with a few other men but there was one in particular who caught her eye. He was beautiful, he had dark hair and the most beautiful blue-grey eyes. The guy who bore resemblance to King Liam smiled and winked at her, while his brooding friend who definitely glanced at her, kept moving. She was snatched from her day dream when Mack texted to say she was outside.

They checked into the Crown Plaza in Manhattan, freshened up and changed into their little black dresses before meeting the girls at a local rooftop lounge for appetizers and drinks before the bachelorette party.

The sounds of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t start now” played in the background and encouraged a slightly inebriated Lauren to shake her body on the empty dance floor. Still licking the wounds behind a very fresh break up she intended to use this weekend to drink her troubles away and vowed to nail a stranger.

The hostess seated a group of gentlemen at the table directly behind the ladies giving Riley, who never sat with her back to the door the best look at the group. It was them. The men from the airport. When they were settled, Riley’s eyes met with the Asian guy’s who was smiling and licking his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned to Kourtney.

“So, how is Gabrielle, is she two now?”

“Yes, she’s great. Busy, but great. That was real smooth. You have an admirer.”

“Ugh, I saw those guys in the airport when I landed. He smiled at me then too.”

“But now there are two of them looking at you like you’re a steak.”

Riley coyly glanced at the group again, this time noticing the dark haired man looking. She blushed and turned back to Kourtney right as the server approached with a whiskey sour, complete with a phone number written on the cocktail napkin.

“How did he know what you drink?”

“Girl, I have no idea. Should I drink this?”

“Sure, they wouldn’t have served it if it had been tampered with. But the real question is are you going to call him?”

“Me? Noooo. What would I say?”

“What do you have to lose?”

“Wait, you have never dated a white guy before have you?”

“Well, no. Not that they aren’t attractive. I just never had one interested. Not all of us find our Prince Harry.”

“You do now. Besides, Chris is no Prince Harry, but he does treat me like a queen. I have always wondered if there are people who would rather be alone than to date outside of their race. Chris is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I definitely would date outside of my race if it were the right person. He is gorgeous, I’m still not calling this guy. He’s going to think i’m desperate.”

“You are!”

“I am not!”

“When was the last time you got laid? Mack told me about your toy.”

“Remind me to kill her later. It’s been 8 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. But who’s counting?”

“Exactly,” Kourtney cackled, drawing the attention of the men at the next table.

Maroon 5’s, “Moves like Jagger” started to play as they continued to chat.

“May I have this dance?”

Riley was disappointed to find the King Liam look alike.

“Thanks, but my feet are killing me.”

“That’s too bad,” he said as he flashed her a sexy smile.

Just then she glanced across the rooftop to see him whisper something to his brooding friend. In an instant the guy with the beautiful eyes headed over and slipped the DJ a tip and whispered something in his ear before heading Riley’s way.

“Kourt, shit! He’s coming over here what do I say?”

“Don’t. Let him do the talking.”

He held out his hand and smiled at her and she was sure her panties were ruined.

“Hey, did I get your drink right?” he asked placing her hand in his.

“Actually, yeah you did. Impressive.”

Just then the DJ changed the song to Silk Sonic’s, “Leave the door open.”

The stranger pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s dance.”

His scent was intoxicating, his arms where strong and she could get lost in his eyes. He held her with a familiarity that made her feel at home in his arms.

“So are you going to tell me your name?”

“Drake. And you are?”

“Riley.”

“We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just dance. Just use my number when you’re ready.”

“Their bodies swayed slowly to the song before her friends pulled her away to the next leg of their night.”

Two weeks later

After a very long weekend in New York, Riley was back in Dallas. She had been there for almost a month and hadn’t met anyone at all. Well, there was Will from work. But she doesn’t date co-workers and she is pretty sure he is gay. In her freetime she goes to the gym, and eats at new restaurants a few times a week, which leads her back to the gym. After a particularly long work day, circuit training and an hour on the treadmill Riley came home and poured herself a very large glass of wine. She filled the tub, lit some jar candles and grabbed her toy and the romance novel that she was currently reading.

She was soaking in bubbles up to her neck when her phone rang, it was Kourtney. Out of all her friends she probably checked on Riley the most. She dried her hands and pressed the speakerphone button.

Hey Kourt,

Hey Ri, what’s new?

Not a thing, work, the gym, dinner, wine repeat.

That’s sad. No human interaction?

Not really. I’ve hung out with Mack and Ben twice but I always feel like a third wheel.

Remember when I told you to call the guy from the rooftop?

Yeah.

I meant every word.

I will think about it. I gotta go. Early morning. Love you.

Whatever, I know when I hit a nerve. I love you too.

Three days later

Riley was as lonely in Dallas as they come. She thought about online dating but wanted something more organic. Kourtney’s words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right. Riley had nothing to lose by reaching out to the handsome stranger who sent her the drink in NYC. She decided to take the plunge.

The next morning Riley sat on her balcony reading the paper and sipping amaretto flavored coffee when her phone rang.

Hey Mack!

Hey, I am running into church and I know it’s short notice but Ben is out of town next weekend and my college roommate is getting married down in Waxahachie. Please tell me you don’t have plans and you’ll be my plus one.

I’ll have to check my planner. She laughed.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have plans. Free booze, food, and maybe a groomsmen to have a fling with. Count me in…

Yay! She squealed. I will pick you up Saturday morning and we can ride down to the ranch together.

Saturday

The doorbell rings and Riley grabs her clutch and the wedding card she got for the newlyweds before heading down to meet Mack. They catch up while they take the 30 minute drive out to the Walker Ranch where the ceremony is to be held. Mack talked about feeling like an after thought when it came to her boyfriend. Riley mentioned the need for human interaction, more specifically from a man and how the one man she met in New York lives in Europe. When they arrive Riley takes in the vast land and the beautiful event space.

“Savannah’s family owns this ranch? Wow, it’s massive.”

“Yeah, I know at one time they were really struggling to keep things afloat. But it definitely looks like they are doing well for themselves now.”

“Right? I love when family businesses do well. It’s really a gorgeous day for an outside wedding. But we should probably take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Mack led Riley to a couple seats on the bride's side. Before long a very serious looking groom and an officiant that Riley could only describe as a King Liam look-a-like stood under a wedding trellis decorated with blush colored blooms. The violinist started to play a beautiful arrangement as the attendants began to descend the aisle.

“All rise and receive the bride.”

They guess all stood and turned to receive Savannah. She was a stunning bride. Then Riley laid eyes on those hypnotic blue-grey eyes. She instantly broke out into a sweat. She couldn’t ever mistake those eyes for someone else’s. He was as beautiful as the first tine she saw him. She swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding out of her chest, she was shaking when she gave Mack’s hand a firm squeeze.

“What’s wrong Ri?”

Before she could answer, his eyes met hers, he bit his lip and her knees buckled.

“Um Ri?”

“It’s Drake from the rooftop in New York..”

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