#and she was drifting through the backyard

[low-cool]

#original photographers #photographers on tumblr #original photography #jtmportland #and she was drifting through the backyard

[incognit0slut]

Better for you

Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

(THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BUT IS TECHNICALLY A THIRD PART FOR LOSE CONTROL AND THE LAST LAUGH)

words: 4.6k Category: fluff (surprisingly this is not my usual NSFW work) warnings: kissing, suggestive content a/n: I’m killing two birds with one stone here. One, I caved in and did another part for this rival couple. And two, I wrote this as a participation in @imagining-in-the-margins office party writing challenge🥳 Here are the prompts: 1. The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B. 2. “I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

WAS A PARTY SUPPOSED TO BE THIS BORING? A subtle sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the backyard. When Rossi invited the team to gather around at his house in celebration of the new year, everybody was on board.

"Who would say no to a David Rossi party?" JJ had said, which led her to bring her family along the occasion. Even Simmons brought his wife and five little kids. And now Rossi’s place never looked so alive with this many people, it seemed that everyone was present at this joyful soirée.

Everyone but one person, that is.

She turned her attention back to the drink in her hand, leaning against the open bar Rossi had set up, her mind drifting towards a certain man. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It just happened that his absence became surprisingly noticeable when he decided to take some time off work to visit his mom, even days before Christmas break.

How long had it been since the last time she saw him? Two weeks? Three? It seemed like a considerable amount of time had passed since she saw was forced to work with him, which happened during the case in a remote town. And despite successfully apprehending the Unsub days later, her resistance to temptation, unfortunately, wasn't as successful.

It was hard not to think of what happened during the travel when it kept playing in her mind like a broken record. It was as if the memories were engraved in her brain—his slick, sweaty body pressing against hers; his soft lips caressing her skin; his large hands roaming her curves, traveling to places that had her hot and wet—

What the hell was wrong with her?

She took a sip of her drink—or more like chugging it down—trying to test if the burning sensation could wash away her filthy mind.

"Whoa," a sudden voice broke through her haze and she looked up to find Luke standing close to her. "Easy there."

His easygoing grin met her gaze as he gestured toward her almost empty glass. She shrugged, aiming the glass toward him in a mock toast. "Just trying to enjoy the party."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, leaning against the bar.

She shot him a sideways glance. "What's it to you, Alvez?"

His grin widened. "Well, when someone's drinking like they're on a mission, it catches my attention. Everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone calm. "I'm just getting into the party spirit, you know?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor unwavering. "Is that so? Or are you trying to drown out some thoughts?"

She scoffed. "Thoughts? What thoughts?"

"The kind that makes you chug down your drink."

"You're imagining things. I'm simply enjoying this..." Her eyes scanned the party, trying to find a word describing the ongoing festive. "...ambiance."

"Alone by the table full of alcohol?"

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on these drinks from disappearing too quickly."

"Hmm," He responded. "It kind of seems like you're waiting for someone to join the party."

Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she scoffed again. "I know who you're referring to, and no, I am not waiting for anyone."

He leaned in, the mischief in his eyes unwavering. "So, you're telling me that if Reid walked in right now, you wouldn't do a happy dance?"

"Please, there would be no happy dance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a casual acknowledgment, maybe."

"Casual acknowledgment? You're going with that?" His grin widened, his teasing persistence unyielding. "There's nothing casual about you two."

"If you mean hating each other's gut, then sure, there is nothing casual about Reid and me."

"He doesn't hate you, you know." She gave him a deadpanned look, her skepticism evident in her arched brow. Luke laughed. "Fine, he disliked the idea of having another prodigy on the team. When he got out of prison, he felt like you were his replacement."

She frowned. "I kind of was. Emily wanted someone to fill in for his absence while he was away."

Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but I think you're starting to grow on him." She shook her head, trying to brush off the comment. "I'm serious, I think you made an impression."

Her skepticism lingered as she fully turned towards him, pointing a finger at him. "So you’re telling me every time he tried to pick a fight he was actually impressed by my intelligence?"

"Well, Reid's got this... unique way of expressing himself, but trust me, he respects you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just pushing it."

"There's got to be something more than what you're letting on. He's not exactly subtle, you know."

She leaned back slightly, trying to maintain composure. "You're reading too much into it. Reid and I have..." a complicated dynamic between coworkers who hate each other but had sex twice—well, three, including that one time in the shower. "...a professional relationship," she decided to say.

His grin widened. "Professional? I've seen the way you two spar during cases."

She huffed. "It's just our way of solving problems. It doesn't mean anything more."

Luke's expression turned thoughtful. "I've worked with him for a while, and he usually doesn't go back and forth with people in smart talk. There must be something about you that intrigues him."

"Or irritates him," she added dryly. "You're giving him too much credit."

"Maybe," he admitted with a laugh. "But I don’t know, he might surprise you one of these days."

She shot him a skeptical glance. "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah?" He suddenly looked past her, a sly grin forming. "Then maybe should find out for yourself."

Confused, she turned around to see what had caught his attention…. And time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted Spencer entering the party, a casual smile on his face as he greeted everyone. For a moment, their eyes locked, and despite her attempts to remain nonchalant, a subtle flutter danced in her chest.

She quickly looked away, her attempt to maintain composure falling apart.

"See what I mean?" Luke's voice broke through her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes, trying to deflect. "It's just a party, people look at each other. There's nothing special."

He raised an eyebrow and responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Sure."

"I'm serious. Stop reading into it."

"Alright, I won't."

That only annoyed her even more. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "You're insufferable."

"What? I believe you," he replied. "I mean, nothing could've happened between two people who were locked together and then forced to share a room, right?"

She shot him a glare, but before she could say anything, she felt a presence coming up behind her. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she caught a whiff of scent she was accustomed to by now, something woody and fresh with a subtle hint of sweetness.

"Reid," Luke greeted as he gave her a side glance before moving towards Spencer, casually dropping an arm around his shoulders. "It's good to see you. How's your mom?"

Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before responding to Luke, "She's doing well, thanks."

“Good to hear.” Luke nodded his head towards her. "Y/n here was just telling me how much she missed you during the holidays."

Suppressing a groan, she shot him a warning look. Spencer, however, responded with a small smile. "You did?"

Her cheeks warmed slightly, caught off guard by his direct question. She feigned nonchalance, offering a casual shrug. "Please, I was just mourning the lack of someone to challenge my wisdom."

Luke chuckled and gave her one last pointed look before excusing himself with a pretense of Rossi calling him somewhere from the crowd. Her eyes narrowed on his back as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "That man coming close to being second place on my hate list."

"I take it I'm still on your number one spot then."

She turned towards him at the sound of his voice, and now that they were alone, she finally took her time to observe him.

Her eyes scanned his clothes, taking in the details. From the carefully styled hair that hinted at the time he took to prepare, to the open dress shirt that he seemed unbothered to button all the way, exposing his long neck and the slight expanse of his chest. He looked good. He looked clean, polished, and undeniably handsome.

She blinked and cleared her throat, attempting to regain composure. "Well, you certainly took your time getting ready."

He met her gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes, seemingly aware of her scrutinizing observation. "I believe in making a good impression," he replied, a subtle smile on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to acknowledge the effect his appearance had on her. "Trying to win over the crowd with something beyond your brain?"

"Partly," he admitted, "And partly because someone once told me that a well-dressed genius is a force to be reckoned with."

"Must have been Garcia."

He grinned. "You know her well."

She took another sip of her drink, a blend of sweet and bitter notes dancing on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on him over the rim of her glass, she observed the play of shadows on his face, accentuating the angles of his features. The ambient light from the party cast a subtle glow, and she couldn't help but notice how it highlighted the soft strands of hair that fell gracefully across his forehead.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here," she slowly remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Surprised? Should I be offended?"

"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

"I'm not," he agreed. "The only exception of social gathering I can endure is with everyone present here."

"Including me?"

“Especially you."

Her demeanor faltered for a split second, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in his tone. It wasn't the usual witty remark she anticipated. A flicker of surprise crossed her features before she could conceal it, her throat clearing as she attempted to regain control over her beating heart.

"Especially… me?" she echoed, attempting to mask the surprise in her voice.

Spencer's gaze held a warmth that felt unfamiliar, and he nodded. "It seems social events are more bearable when you're around."

She tilted her head and studied him. "You're just saying that because you have someone to pick a fight with."

"A fight?" He wondered. "Is that what we've been doing?"

"It's what we've always been doing."

"Not for the past few weeks, we haven't."

She knew what he was referring to. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of indulging in a conversation about their sexual escapades, she instead responded with, "Well, you haven't, I'm still trying to play my part here."

He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the quiet space between them. "And what part would that be?"

"The one where I constantly question the liability of your knowledge, of course."

Spencer's smile widened, the lines of his face softening. "Maybe," he began, his voice low, "We can explore different roles that don't involve any fighting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a truce, Dr. Reid?"

"More like a change of tactics, Dr. L/n," he replied, gently taking the glass from her hand and placing it by the bar.

Her frown deepened, uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

He nodded toward the center of the backyard where most of their team members filled the space of the party. "Dance with me."

She gazed towards the dance floor, then back at him, and her brows furrowed. That did not sound like the Spencer she knew, heck, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him dance before. Her eyes narrowed further when he gave her a grin.

"Come on, it's just a dance. It won't kill you," he urged, extending a hand towards her.

She eyed his outstretched hand with mock skepticism. "Are you implying that dancing with you is some kind of survival?"

Spencer grinned. "Considering the number of times you've survived my intellect, this should be a walk in the park."

She rolled her eyes. "Intellect, yes. Dancing? I'll take my chances."

"Are you afraid you'll step on my toes?" he teased.

"More like I'm afraid you'll step on mine," she shot back.

Spencer chuckled. "Just one dance, and if you don't enjoy it, you can revert to questioning the liability of my knowledge."

Her eyes drifted between his outstretched hand and his gaze, a silent contemplation unfolding within her. She knew that if she agreed to this, there was no turning back. Was it a wise decision? Probably not. But a small, rebellious part of her was curious to see how the night would unfold.

Spencer watched her with a patient expression, his hand still extended. The music continued to play, a steady beat that seemed to echo the pulse of the night, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed in mock exasperation.

"Fine," she said, finally placing her hand in his, "But I reserve the right to make sarcastic remarks about your dance moves later."

"Deal," he agreed, leading her onto the dance floor with a grin.

She could feel everyone's scrutiny on them as he pulled her onto the dance floor, her breath hitching when he grabbed her other hand and placed her arms around his neck before snaking his arms around her waist.

"Everyone's watching us, aren't they?" she asked as they started to move to the soft beat of the music.

Spencer's gaze held a mischievous glint as he twirled her around, navigating the dance floor with surprising grace. "Let them watch," he replied, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's just a dance, after all."

"You don't strike me as the 'just a dance' kind of person." She arched an eyebrow, unable to shake off the sense that there was more to this move than met the eye. "You don't even strike me as someone who even knows how to dance."

He shrugged. "Dancing is easy. All you have to do is move in circles and hold on to your partner."

He proved his point by pulling her further into his arms, and she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their heights. His broad chest pressed against her, the softness of his abdomen against her stomach, while his arms securely wrapped around her body.

Her breath caught for a moment, her gaze instinctively locking with his. The initial awkwardness transformed into a surprising ease, and she reciprocated the movements with a newfound confidence. The subtle sways and turns took on a rhythm of their own, syncing perfectly with the music that enveloped them.

"See?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Easy."

They continued to move to the rhythm, and she couldn't help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The world around them seemed to blur, and for a moment, she actually enjoyed being held close to him.

But before she could fully relax in his arms, JJ appeared on the dance floor, hand in hand with her husband Will. The look of disbelief in their friend's eyes was unmistakable as the couple approached them while being tangled in their own dance.

"Are my eyes deceiving me," JJ teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Or are you two getting along quite well?"

She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain a casual facade. "It's just a dance. Don't read too much into it."

JJ's grin widened as she exchanged a knowing look with Will. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you and Reid would willingly share the dance floor."

She shot a glance at Spencer, and there was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes—was it surprise? amusement? She couldn't quite place it. Collecting herself, she responded with a mock grimace, "He forced me into it."

Spencer's expression turned playful. "I have a way of convincing people to do things they didn't know they wanted to do."

"You mean manipulate."

He chuckled. "Persuade, Y/n. It's all about perspective."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw JJ and Will exchanging another pointed look. "Either way, you both look like you're having a good time."

"And you both look good together," Will added.

"Thank you."

"We're not together."

They both looked at each other while JJ raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yet here you are. Spence, you might have just discovered a hidden talent—getting Y/n to dance."

She let out a sigh. "Don't encourage him."

Spencer leaned in, his tone low. "You're just mad because you're enjoying this."

She narrowed her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."

"Come on, just admit it," The corners of his lips lifted in a playful smirk. "You're having more fun than you expected."

"Fun?" She scoffed, attempting to deflect the growing warmth in her cheeks. "I wouldn't call this fun. It's just an unfortunate consequence of being at a party."

"Yet you can't deny that you're not entirely opposed to the idea."

She shot him a glare. "You're dangerously close to overestimating your influence."

"Or maybe you're underestimating your willingness to enjoy the moment."

She shook her head, turning towards JJ. "Can you believe him—"

She stopped when she realized they had been left alone for a while, noticing JJ and Will were already at the other side of the dance floor. However as her eyes scanned around them, the scrutiny of the others didn't go unnoticed by her. She fixed her gaze back on Spencer.

"We must be such a sight to see," she remarked. "I bet they're starting some rumors about us."

He raised his eyebrows. "You think they haven't already?"

She sighed, acknowledging his words. "Fair point."

"What do you think they're saying about us?"

She considered for a moment. "That we secretly don't hate each other," she responded after contemplating her answer. "I think they might be disappointed when they realize the truth."

His arms instinctively tightened around her waist. "And what's the truth?"

She studied him, her heart suddenly beating fast. Weeks ago, she would have answered the question with certainty, stating that they were nothing more than coworkers who were both very stubborn. But as she felt his eyes watching her intently, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"The truth?" she echoed, her voice a little softer than she intended. "I don't know, Reid. What is our truth?"

He held her gaze, and for a moment, she was hypnotized by the look in his eyes. "Well, the part where we secretly don't hate each other is true, for me at least."

Her breath caught as she absorbed his words.

“…you don't hate me?"

"Hate is a very strong word." Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Hate is often fueled by fear or misunderstanding. It's a complex emotion rooted in our perceptions and experiences. So, in a way, hate is a reflection of the mind rather than a true evaluation of a person."

She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you just use psychology to explain why you don't hate me?"

"Considering our line of work, it seemed appropriate."

She shook her head in amusement. "Only you would analyze hate in the middle of a dance."

Spencer continued, "Well, understanding emotions is crucial in our field. And I believe there's more to us than mere hostility."

She pursed her lips together, her mind suddenly going through the times they often bickered. "I still find it hard to believe you didn't hate me the first time we met."

"Dislike would be a better way to put it. But I was at my lowest point at that time. It wasn't just you, I was angry at everyone. At the circumstances. At myself." He slightly leaned back and sighed. "And I admit, it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

Then after a moment of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. The apology hung in the air and she found herself at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, the walls she had built seemed to crumble, leaving her standing on the precipice of something unfamiliar.

She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper, "And how do you see me now?"

Spencer's gaze held a thoughtful intensity as he considered her question. "I think you're someone who challenges me. There's a depth to you beyond the harsh glare and cold shoulder." He eased, pressing a hand on her lower back. "And, if I may say, someone who looks surprisingly stunning on the dance floor."

A blush crept over her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if he had another motive behind the compliment. "You're using flattery now? Are you trying to get in my pants again?"

He laughed. "Is it working?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Nice try, Reid. Flattery might get you far, but not that far."

His grin widened, and he guided her through the dance floor with ease. "Well, I'll have to come up with better tactics then."

His touch, gentle and deliberate, sent a shiver down her spine as his thumb traced an almost hypnotic pattern on the small of her back through the fabric of her dress. The soft caress felt both intimate and tender, catching her off guard. "I mean it though," he said, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with honesty. "You do look beautiful tonight."

There was something in his gaze that was unfamiliar, even hearing him easily compliment her was foreign in her ears. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he smiled at her. "What?"

She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "Nothing. It's just... unexpected, coming from you."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as they moved in sync with the music. "It's part of my New Year's resolution."

"What? To be nicer?" She guessed. "Be a better person?"

"To be a better person for you," he corrected.

Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself drawing closer to him, the music weaving a subtle spell around them. The warmth radiating from him, the soft glow of the string lights, and the gentle melody created an intimate atmosphere that blurred the lines between the hostility she often wore.

The distance between them diminished, and she felt the subtle shift in the air. Without registering what she was doing, her fingers came up behind his neck, softly playing with the strands of his hair. They were so soft, just like the look reflected in his eyes. Then her gaze went down to his lips; they too looked incredibly soft.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Like what?"

"Like you want to close the distance between us," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "Because I'm trying to restrain myself from doing just that."

His fingers found the small of her back, pressing gently, while hers continued their silent dance in his hair. Every touch, every movement, fueled the escalating heat between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. The distance diminished further until she could feel his breath, warm and inviting, grazing against her lips.

But before she could indulge herself, Garcia's voice echoed somewhere in the crowd. "It's the final countdown, people!"

Suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, she released her arms from around his neck and shifted her gaze elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the projector screen, previously used by the kids for a movie marathon and now it displayed the vibrant scenes of people joyously ringing in the New Year celebration.

As the digital numbers on the screen ticked down, the energy in the backyard intensified. The countdown became a collective heartbeat, a shared anticipation that echoed through the crowd.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

In those final moments, she stole a glance at Spencer, their eyes locking silently.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

But his stare became so intense that she quickly looked away.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

The cheers erupted, and the backyard was bathed in the glow of fireworks, the sky above adorned with bursts of color. She watched the dazzling display in awe, the explosions of light reflecting in her eyes.

Amidst the celebratory chaos, she noticed her friends wrapped in the arms of their loved ones, celebrating happily. JJ and Will shared a sweet kiss, Simmons was embraced by his family, Penelope and Luke exchanged laughter, and even Rossi, with a subtle smile, clinked glasses with Emily and Tara.

And as the colorful explosions painted the night sky, she felt a lingering gaze on her. Turning, she found Spencer watching her intently. His eyes were searching hers as if he were asking for permission to close the short distance separating them.

She knew what he meant. It was beyond asking permission to kiss her. It was a gentle plea to understand the unspoken boundaries that lingered between them. Engaging in intimacy behind closed doors was one thing, but to take that step in front of their peers meant exposing a vulnerability she had carefully guarded. Did she want to cross that line?

A part of her wavered, finding herself drawn to him—his warm brown eyes, his smile, everything about him seemed to call out to a part of her that she had kept guarded. The barriers she had meticulously built started to feel like fragile walls as everything around them started to fade, leaving only the soft glow of string lights and the distant echoes of laughter.

Oh, fuck it.

Feeling the pull of an undeniable force, she took a step closer with a small, bashful smile playing on her lips. It was all the answer he needed. Closing the distance between them, he framed her face with his large hands, his warm touch sending a shiver down her spine. Surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the vibrant display of fireworks overhead, he finally leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers.

Warmth spread through her body as he held her, his touch gentle yet possessive. He tipped her jaw, allowing his mouth to move along with hers. His tongue easily slipped into her as he continued to taste the subtle hint of liquor she had been drinking. Spencer was never one to drink, but he didn't mind tasting it on her. If anything, he couldn't get enough.

Her arms instinctively traveled underneath his suit jacket, seeking more of his warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. The fabric of his suit was smooth under her fingertips, and the heat of his body radiated through the layers of clothing.

The kiss deepened as he continued to explore her mouth, growing more intense with each passing second, and it wasn't until they heard someone through their haze calling out, "There are kids here!" that he finally pulled away.

He laughed, a soft, genuine sound and she couldn't help but join in. He then rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space that separated them. The lingering taste of their kiss hung in the air, and for a moment, they simply stood there. The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and they exchanged a glance filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"I guess we got carried away," he mumbled.

"You think?" She chuckled, her fingers playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. "We should keep it PG-13 for now."

His fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. "Does that mean we can go R-rated later?"

She let out a laugh, throwing her head back in mirth. "You're relentless."

He smiled, savoring the moment of ease between them, and he found himself captivated by the genuine joy she radiated. His gaze traveled around the backyard and noticed everyone watching them with amused grins. He leaned down and pulled her flush against him. "Everyone's watching us."

She groaned and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I can already imagine their teasing."

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I think it's worth it."

"What is?" she mumbled into his neck.

He pulled away and looked down at her. In a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I can handle the constant teasing if it means I get to hold you like this."

The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile. "You're willing to endure their teasing just to hold me?"

His gaze met hers, unwavering. "More than willing."

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She couldn't believe how this night had turned out, yet, here they were—wrapped up in a dance of their own. It was a position she would've never imagined herself in. And despite her best efforts to resist, the walls she had meticulously built were crumbling.

"Can I kiss you again?" He whispered. "I promise I'll make it family-friendly."

The corners of her lips curled as she laughed. The unexpected turn of events had brought them to a place she never anticipated, but surprisingly, it felt oddly right.

"I suppose one more won't hurt."

His smile widened, and with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Happy New Year," he whispered against her lips.

She found herself smiling, realizing that perhaps, unexpected as it was, this change of year wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and wondered where her life would take her this year. The path ahead seemed unclear, but one thing was certain—Spencer Reid had managed to find his way into her heart.

.

a/n: if you’ve followed the story since lose control, this is the ending for this short series. As much as I wanted to write smut again for the last part, the fluff was calling out to me :3

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[cntloup]

Simon has to go on a deployment

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” he asks for the hundredth time, “Yes, Si. I'll be fine. Go do your job. But please be careful.” you respond as you help him put on his gear. 

He's going on a quick deployment. About one week. But that doesn’t make you any less nervous. 

You cup his face in your hands and stare into his eyes with a million different emotions coursing through you, “Be safe.” you whisper, “ ‘course, luv.” he replies as his gaze lingers on you, slowly drifting down to your lips. It quickly moves back up to your eyes again, but not before you notice it. 

He removes his dog tags and puts them around your neck and kisses your forehead as he shuts his eyes, breathing you in.

And he leaves with longing burning in his heart and you feel as though a piece of your heart has been ripped out of your chest. 

You spend most days quietly reading, tending to the small garden in the backyard, groaning in pain and throwing up apart from constantly worrying for his safety. 

A week and three days pass and he’s finally back home. 

He's alert, worry and anxiety creeping up on him the moment he notices the door is slightly ajar. 

He pulls out his gun and aims it forward, kicks the door open, his heart sinks into his stomach and he nearly faints on the spot as his eyes fall on the trail of blood staining the floor. 

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare

[juleswrites223]

Dad!Carlos Sainz x Mom!Reader ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Context: Your son is a menace in a car, just like Carlos was at his age

a/n: This is inspired by that video of baby Carlos in a car, drifting like a boss 😂. Also for Mateo's face claim i just took Carlos when he was a child to really give the feel that he is a carbon copy of his dad. I used google translate for the spanish.

“Mateo is an exact copy of Carlos no?” Reyes, Carlos’ mother says as you are out on a brunch date with her.

“Right?? Even the way he even scrunches his nose.” You say to your mother in law. “It’s unfair, I carried him for nine months, all for him to be a carbon copy of his papa.” You whine.

Reyes laughs and you guys continue talking then head to the car. As you’re fastening your seatbelt, the phone lights up with your husband’s caller ID.

“Hola cariño, have you picked up Mateo from preschool yet?” Carlos’ voice comes through the phone.

“Hi, I’m with your mom, we went out for a brunch date, I’m actually on my way to go pick him up right now, where are you?” You say as you pull out of the parking lot.

“I just finished golfing with my father, we were on our way back so I was thinking if it would take you more time then I would pick up Mateo.” Carlos says.

"No it's fine, the preschool is barely 10 mins away from here. How was golfing?" You say as you drive towards your son's preschool with your mother in law.

"I got a hole in one, th-", Carlos says as he's interrupted by his father.

"Hola Y/N, your husband cheated." Carlos Sainz sr, your father in law, says quickly.

"Eres sólo un mal perdedor, cariño. (you are just a sore loser, honey)" Reyes laughs as she tells her husband.

The conversation ends as you pull up at your son's preschool. His face lights up the moment he sees your car, as soon as you step in the gate, Mateo's joyous voice rings, "MAMAAA".

You pick Mateo up in your arms and carry him till the car while conversing with him. His face lights up even more when he sees his abuela in the car too.

"How was your day bubba? Abeula came too because she missed you." You ask him as you strap in him the baby seat.

"It was bueno (good). I did counting today." Mateo says as he imitates counting on his fingers.

"Mateo, tu papá te consiguió un auto en el que puedes conducir. (Mateo, Your papa got you a car that you can drive in)" Reyes says as you drive.

"¿Auto? como el de papa? (car? like papa's?)" Mateo tilts his head as he asks, clearly curious.

"Un poco diferente al de papa. (a little different that papa's)" You say as you guys arrive at you and Carlos' house.

"Hola hola." You greet your husband by kissing his lips when you enter and hug your father in law.

They seem to be watching moto gp but as soon as Mateo comes in with his abuela, he excitedly runs to his abuelo.

"Mateo ¿Qué pasa con papá? (what about papa?)", Carlos says as he feigns hurt.

Mateo's favourite one in the whole family is definitely his grandfather. Whenever people ask Mateo who is his best friend, he always says his abuelo.

Carlos sneakily goes to the abuelo-nieto (grandfather-grandson) duo and picks up Mateo and tickles him. Mateo's sweet laughter rings throughout the living room.

"Quiero ver bluey (i want to watch bluey)", Mateo whines and points at the tv when he sees the tv on but it's not showing his favourite show.

"Carlos, Sabes que quiere ver su programa cada vez que ve la televisión encendida (You know he wants to watch his show whenever he sees the tv on). You know what show him his new car, its in the backyard, that will distract him." You tell your husband.

"Mateo, vamos a ver tu auto (Mateo lets go check out your car)." Carlos says as he takes Mateo with him to the backyard. Mateo runs towards the car and immediately sits in it.

"Bebé, ten cuidado, ¿vale? No hay derivas, ¿vale? (baby be careful okay. No drifts okay?)", you say to your son.

Mateo, just like his father, drives fast and crazy. With every drifty turn he's making in his toy car, your heart drops to your stomach in fear he's going to hurt himself.

"¡¡CUIDADOSO!! (CAREFUL!!)"

"MATEO!"

"Mateo conduce bebé lento! (Mateo drive slow baby!)"

This is how he's driving for context.

You shriek until he finally stops and smiles for the picture his abuelo is taking.

"Bien, comamos y veamos Bluey ahora, ¿eh? (Okay, let's eat and watch bluey now huh?", You try to convince your son and luckily it works. He gets out of the car and dashes to the couch.

"¿Por qué le compraste ese auto peligroso? (Why would you get him that dangerous car?) He could have seriously hurt himself." You smack your husband's chest as he comes up behind you and hugs you from the back.

"Haha, Si te estás volviendo loco por esto, ¿cómo reaccionarás cuando empiece a hacer karting? (If you're freaking out about this then how will you react when he starts karting?)" He laughs and kisses you lightly on the lip and you guys walk inside.

It's later in the evening when you go over to the couch and kiss your baby boy's head, who is peacefully sleeping. "I just want him to stay safe forever. ¿es demasiado pedir? Como su madre, eso es todo lo que deseo. (is it too much to ask for? As his mother, that's all i wish for.)

"No siempre podemos proteger a nuestros hijos, pero podemos hacer todo lo posible para garantizar que se mantengan a salvo. Sentí lo mismo que tú ahora cuando Carlos era joven y empezó a hacer karting. (We can't always protect our children but we can do our best to ensure they keep themselves safe. I felt the same way you do now when Carlos was young and he started karting.)" Reyes says to you in hoping to aid your worry. And it does.

You cuddle with Mateo on the couch as you continue conversing with your mother in law while Carlos and his dad are preparing dinner. You look down at your son who is sleeping and looking at his adorable face, you know he's gonna be alright, but it doesn't hurt if you wanna do everything in your power to protect him for a few more years, right?

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #f1 x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz #formula one #f1 imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz blurb

[wileys-russo]

Can we get a ficlet for team bonding❤️

team bonding

you sighed to yourself, moving to cross one leg over the other as you fought desperately not to allow your eyes to close knowing the moment you did you'd be done for.

you tried your hardest to pay attention to the footage on the media screen in front of the team, the training staff droning on about what could be changed or improved on for next time. normally after a match you would all be dismissed but with champions league finals looming they were not taking any chances.

"almost done princesa." mapi's chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle where she sat beside you, eyes flickering to see yours fighting to stay awake. you sent her a tired smile and sat up straighter, rubbing your eyes and trying to zone back in as your girlfriends hand squeezed your leg supportively.

though it seemed for once you weren't alone in your exhaustion, mapi's shoulder bumping into yours as you followed her finger where it pointed. you smiled to yourself seeing claudia dead asleep on patri's shoulder.

"you are a bad influence." the tattooed spaniard teased with a smile as finally the lights flicked on and the tv went black signalling you were all able to return to the change rooms, having a half hour before the bus was due to depart.

"i'll see you in there hermosa." mapi excused herself, placing a sweet kiss to your lips and darting off somewhere as you stood to your feet, wandering over to your friends.

"hola pinaa." you cooed and squeezed the younger girls cheeks, shaking her awake and grinning as she tried to hit you, following the others back into the change rooms, chatting with her and patri.

"she's speaking with the physio amor." ingrid answered as you glanced around the room unable to spot your other girlfriend. "she will meet us on the bus." ingrid explained as the two of you fell into conversation with frido and panos, handing your bags over to be loaded into the bus.

"tired elskling?" ingrid asked as you both sat down beside one another, your head almost immediately slumping to her shoulder as you hummed and she ran a hand through your hair.

"like a light switch." frido whistled in disbelief as within seconds you were asleep, chest rising and falling as ingrid kissed your temple affectionately.

"i need her to teach me her secrets." alexia sighed from across the aisle with a shake of her head, the older girls knowing better than to continue their conversations with your girlfriend whose sole focus was now protecting your peace.

which meant for every one of your team mates who passed you there would be a piercing glare or a quiet shush, her arm curled around your shoulders, glancing down every now and then to make sure you stayed asleep.

"already?" mapi chuckled as finally she joined you all one of the last on the bus, dropping into the seat beside frido. "she didn't sleep last night, i found her on the lounge with bagheera around four in the morning." ingrid rolled her eyes at the memory.

"you were asleep!" she smacked her girlfriends shoulder who frowned in confusion, not even realizing you'd left from where you lay beside her as she had drifted off last night.

"you know she has a point with these naps. we both took one in the sun in the backyard the other day, i woke up feeling very fresh!" mapi admitted with a shrug, a commotion breaking out over a card game toward the back of the bus.

you stirred for a moment, ingrid tensing and murmuring something in her native tongue softly in your ear, playing with your hair as you sighed and settled into her again.

her head whipped around with a glare as loud laughter sounded a few rows back, the younger girls falling quiet at her fierce stare making mapi chuckle and give the younger girl a cheeky grin.

"who has gone soft now hm mi vida?"

#woso #woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #mapi leon #ingrid engen

[azsazz]

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

Daddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: This one is a req from @acourtofmenandthirst: Eris' daughter drawing his scars on her doll.

Warnings: Mentions of scars.

Word Count: 1,639

_________________________________________

Eris peeks his head into the room, amber eyes drifting towards the cot his son, Rook, is currently crying in. The young boy, hardly a year old, has an iron grip on the bars caging him inside the intricately carved wood of his bed. Thick vines and leaves cut into the dark lumber, choked by his little fingers.

Tears stream down Rook's chubby cheeks and Eris coos, pushing into the room. Sunlight creeps in through the light linen curtains. The stained glass creation hung in the window casts colorful shadows across the creamy yellow of the walls. 

“My poor son,” Eris huffs dramatically, lifting Rook from his cradle. He’s clothed in only his nappy, reaching up to cling onto his father’s pressed shirt as if he’ll never let go again. 

Eris hopes he doesn’t. His children are growing up much too fast.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family. 

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds. 

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from. 

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook. 

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway. 

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach. 

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him. 

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly. 

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked. 

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.” 

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

Eris nods once, firmly. “I love it, Maude. You made me look perfect.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #daddy!eris #azsazz next gen #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #eris #domestic eris

[peachesofteal]

John Price/female reader The Ocean Anthology

You're not overly familiar with wolves.

On the zoology side, you preferred marine animals. As a child, you preferred the aquarium to the zoo, the beach to the park, water instead of land. Something about the sea, floating weightless beneath a tide, modeling your own movements after tail fins and flippers, salt water drying on your skin at the surface.

The wild of the open ocean, unending depths, reaching where light could not touch, soothed something in your heart. It always had.

Which is why, when you looked out your kitchen window into the duplex's shared backyard and saw Aly, seated with criss crossed legs, ten meters from the largest wolf you've ever seen in your life, you screamed.

It was the surprise, twisting your vocal chords into a strangled cry, the shock and fear echoing past the frame of the house and into the gnarled slope, that had Aly turning back to peer at you, had the wolf lowering it's head in what you could only assume was a predatory lean.

"Aly." Your voice trembled when you made it onto the back deck, a hand outstretched, beckoning her back to safety. The wolf inches away, shying from your panic, the scent of your fear souring the breeze. It's stale, and sharp, and your heart thunders in your ears, rapid beat wild in your veins.

She did not even spare you a glance.

"It's okay." She calls over her shoulder. "She'd never hurt me." She? You look around. Where is John?

"Aly. Come inside." Your force yourself steady, pushing authority, what little of it you possess, into the syllables.

And then, a softer plea, from someone who doesn't understand. "Please." The wolf, massive and grey with tinges of orange and brown, watches you, golden, glinting eyes, upper lip curled, revealing devastatingly sharp teeth. It steps away, up into the cover of the trees, drifting into the darkness of the forest, glow of it's face in the morning rays just barely visible.

The little girl sighs, unfolding herself and brushing dirty palms against her coat.

"You scared her." Fogged breath rolls from her mouth, and all you can do is stare, incredulous, as she rolls her eyes and traipses over to her back door, giving you a skeptical look before stepping inside.

What the fuck was that?

You find yourself on a twisted forest path later that night. Unable to sleep, you walk towards the harbor, cutting through a side trail you've seen John on in the mornings, and others, occasionally.

It's just a side trail. Close to the road. You'll be fine.

The woman's warning from your first night at the bar vibrates in your bones.

Skip the shortcuts through the forest at night.

Warnings, pleas, instructions from John, all laid to waste in your trek, bundled up in your warmest jacket, gloves and hat. Your jeans stick to your thighs, cold prickling between the friction, headlamp illuminating the way, red light casting shadow into the forest, a thick fog settled in around the way.

You're not walking long, when you hear the first snap. You whirl, light pointed in the direction of the noise, to find nothing but silent woods, branches hanging low with the weight of icy winter.

Something cracks at your back. Something sharp, splintering through the fog's silence.

Your shoulder's raise. Your lungs go still.

Fear wraps around your throat, and chokes.

Don't look. Don't look.

John's voice echoes in your memory, severe blue gaze and downturned lips, opposite you at the table.

"Run."

You turn on your heel, digging into the dirt, and sprint. Around you, brush crashes. Branches and twigs break. There's a glimpse of paws, long strides eating the distance between yourself and your pursuer, panic bubbling up in your chest as you push yourself to the brink.

Faster.

To your left, a streak of white. Large, and graceful, taking downed logs and large branches with ease, cutting closer and closer, your movements growing clumsy each second.

The road, the house, are eons away. They might as well be on the other side of the earth, sanctuary vanishing before your very eyes.

From your left, from your right, breathing grows louder. Growls and yips and a howl bounce off the density of the darkness, heading you off.

Hunting you.

You can feel them. Wild, untamed lupine prowess stalks closer. Playing with their prey before they close you off from the end of the path completely. You're a child again, running into bed after flicking off the lights, terrified of what lurks beneath your bed. Sprinting up the basement stairs, hoping you'll be safe as soon as you touch the door handle and burst into the light.

Your tears come, sob ripping through your chest, a bleat of terror sounding off like a gunshot. You stay focused on the dark frame that's just in view, trying to outrun the snarling brutality chasing you.

When you find the road, you don't stop. You push yourself harder, faster, until the house is in sight, exhaustion turning your feet into concrete blocks, sending you pitching forward-

into a thick, warm, chest.

"What are you-" hands grip your upper arms, holding you steady, holding you close. An embrace of cedar and cigar, wilderness and ocean wrapping you up.

John.

"I- There- I saw-" You can't get it out. Tongue as clumsy as your limbs, you go limp and tremble.

The forest behind you is dead silent. Still.

"Shhh now." He murmurs, hand cupping the back of your head. It's large, nearly the size of your skull, and you press your nose to his jacket, gasping. "It's alright. You're alright."

"W-wolves." You bite, and his muscles go tense, neck rigid. You can feel torsion, the survey of the land behind you.

You brace for the scolding you know you've earned. The admonishment you deserve. "I'm sorry, I c-couldn't sleep, and thought I'd just... I'd walk. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, love. They're gone. You're safe." Love. The word suggests familiarity, affection, and you blink. He's gentle, still holding you close, grip firm and tense. You should pull away, salvage your dignity, your sanity.

You're a scientist. Not a child. What kind of display is this?

It all falls away, his thumb stroking a slow circle behind your ear. "Let's get you inside, hm?" You nod, still unsteady, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, tucking you close. Adrenaline keeps you in unsteady limbo, hands shaking so badly you're forced to press them against your heart.

He keeps you in his side the entire walk back, murmuring softly, accent lilting on the night's breeze. He helps you with your key when your fingers can't quite get a good grip, pushing your door wide and flicking on the lamp, pale yellow glow comforting in the inky black.

When he sits you down on the couch, you don't protest. He handles you carefully, long touch on your knee, turning with a distant expression, gaze fixed out the window. "Need you to be good and listen to me from now on. Don't want anything happening to ya."

"I know." You croak. You do, now. Before... before, you didn't take any stock in it. Averse to being told what to do, naturally resistant.

Now. Now you see.

"They were so close." you try to explain, avoiding his eyes. "Like they... like they were-"

"Hunting." You look up, big breath trying to fill your lungs, and he gives you a grim smile, palm still cupped over your knee. Something else starts to unfurl in the pit of your stomach, butterflies shaking the terror and spreading their wings, fluttering anxiously against your ribcage. His proximity suffocates you, too warm, too close, and it clouds the space between your bodies, confusion roaring in your mind. He clears his throat.

"Get some sleep." At the door, he turns back one last time, and gives you a nod, expectantly. Like he knows you'll take yourself right upstairs and curl into bed, bury yourself beneath a mountain of blankets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, John."

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #the ocean anthology #peaches writes #still trying to shake the rust but it’s not working lmao

[citruslullabies]

Forgive me if this is weird, but I'd kind of like to see some moments of Dogday acting like a dog.

I'll do some minis since they're fast, darling

This is a judgement free zone so it isn't weird!! Also I wanna try something new so let me know if it's good

So for starters, we know Dogday can howl,

But he can also bark

He finds it embarrassing, but only does it if he needs too

The house was peaceful, with soft breathing and light music being the only noise as Dogday was pressed against you while you scratched behind his ears.

He sighed happily, drifting off into his own paradise where it was just you and him. Maybe in a house better than this one, with a garden in the backyard and gloves big enough for his hands to help it. But his mind quickly drew blank with annoyance when yipping and yelping started echoing through the room, opening his eyes and looking down at the causes.

Peanuts yipped at Cubby to play while Cubby growled and snapped her little mouth at him, while Biscuits was trying to play with his planes. She suddenly snatched one of the toy cars in her mouth and went to walk off with it while Peanuts was whimpering loudly, and Biscuits mreowing at him softly and trying to press his little blue plane against Peanut's cheek to cheer him up. Dogday quickly put the commotion to an end, and he... Barked? Fully barked to get them to stop, and it worked. He huffed and snuggled back up with you as you snorted and just continued to scratch him behind the ears before murmuring. "Didn't know you could do that, puppy."

He also likes to mark you

Not in a weird way, but he marks you with his paws and head

Dogs and cats both like to rub scent glands on things that they claim is theirs (that's actually why dogs will kick in the dirt and nuzzle and cats make biscuits)

You let out a long sigh as you sat down in bed after a long day of work, gently undoing a few buttons on your shirt as you plopped down. Dogday came in a few moments later, shutting the door behind him and turning keeping the lights off as to not bother you. "Angel? Is everything alright?" He asked softly. You groaned and nodded. "Just stressed.."

He nodded before sitting down beside you, making the bed creak under his weight but not break. He stared at you for a few minutes, before snuggling with you. However his nose quickly caught the smell of someone else, which was your boss. As unhappy as he was he didn't say anything, since he didn't wanna stir anything. He knew you wouldn't be that type of person.

So he instead, very quietly started to scratch and rub your back with his large hands as he nuzzled his fat head into your neck and face. You snorted and looked over at him. "You trying to give me a massage?" You joked, which caused him to shrug with a hum. "You could say that."

You eventually fell asleep, sound in his arms as he relaxed with a sigh. Smiling as he shut his eyes with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, since you finally smelled right again. You smelled like his again.

He thinks he's a lapdog.

No, really

This large humanoid dog who is 6× your size thinks he is a lapdog

"Dogday get off-!" You said, struggling to breathe as your overgrown mutt laid down in your lap, after you had only sat down for a minute as the water in the kitchen was boiling. You huffed and continued to try and push but he was just too heavy.

"Dogday, please! I have to go make dinner!" You desperately tried to reason, but he would not budge and instead closed his eyes while pretending to sleep. You groaned and tilted your head back against the couch, huffing and giving up. Before you scratched his head in defeat. "You're an asshole." You huffed, and from the apparently 'sleeping' figure you felt a rumble as a chuckle and saw a small smirk. Jerk.

Thanks for requesting my lovely!

#featuring: cubby #featuring: biscuits #featuring: peanuts #poppy playtime #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday x y/n #poppy’s playtime x reader #poppy playtime fanfics #poppys playtime #poppy playtime dogday #dogday x you #smiling critters dogday #sunnyangel

[reidslovely]

You Called

No particular reason for the gif..it was just funny.

Requested by @toomanyfictionalboyfriends

CW: Drinking, but nothing other than that.

Please reblog instead of liking/hearting this post to support the author

He’d been out with his own group of friends when the text came through. If he concentrated hard enough in the haze of the bar he could even hear the upset in her voice. She had rooted herself that deep into his brain. 

‘are u near college street at all?” 

‘i’m at this stupid party that m.j. has drug me to and i have to get out of here.’

‘just wanna see you plz petey’

Peter bit back a smile and placed his drink down on the white fold out table, looking around the backyard as he slid his phone into his back pocket and tried to creep away as quietly as possible. 

“Where ya going? You’re not even done with your first drink yet.” The arm around him throws him off. Harry is smirking at Peter, it’s a knowing grin, the same one he gave him when he snuck out of their own party a couple weeks ago to go sit at her dorm with her. 

“Savin’ my girl from yours.” He jokes, shrugging his friend's arm off. Harry is smiling to himself pouring the rest of Peter’s cup into his own. 

The frat house on college street is one he’s familiar with, he hates the Pike parties. He makes a mental note about lecturing M.J. on taking his girlfriend to this frat house without him present. A few of the frat boys scatter as Peter makes his way through the crowd. He’s fist fought one to many of them for the boys to stop and ask what he;s doing here. “M.J.! Mary-Jan-” 

“I heard you for the first time! What are you doing here Pete?” She yells over the music, the group of girls she’s sitting with look at Pete batting their eyelashes. Peter’s eyes however were drifting around the room looking for his girl in the crowd of sorority girls. 

“Looking for bashful, y’know where she is?” 

“She went to the bathroom like 15 minutes ago? I figured she snuck out to you, she said she was gonna leave but she was waiting on you.” M.J. says looking over her shoulder. 

He got lucky that she knew how to listen. Peter snuck up the stairs, looking at the hallway of doors. “Hey man, which one is the bathroom?” Peter asked the blonde as he walked past him. 

“First door right there.” 

“Thanks..thanks” 

Peter walked straight ahead knocking on the door waiting for a response. “Bashful you in there?”

After a couple minutes of silence he could hear feet padding across the floor of the bathroom. He smiled as the door cracked open to reveal his girlfriend. “You came.” She smiled leaning against the door. 

Peter nods his head scooping down to kiss her, his arm wrapping around her waist dragging her out of the bathroom and down the crowded staircase. 

“You came.” She smiled, her face hidden in his shoulder as they walked. He could feel her body heat up as she pushed against him in the crowd. Without looking down, smiling to himself Peter nodded. 

“You called.”

#tasm peter parker x reader #frat peter blurb #frat!peter lore #frat bro peter #frat!peter #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter x reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker #tasm fanfiction #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter imagines #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader

[tropes-and-tales]

Mending Fences

Day 15:  Virginity (Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Childhood friends; yee-haw angst; idiots in love; pining; smut (PiV, protected and unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count: 6954

AN:  This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by an anonymous type!

AN2: Believe me when I say this is not beta read and has not been edited at all. Shitty first drafts, all. Shitty first drafts foisted into publication.

Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.

Wabang remains largely the same.  Maria leaves town and Rhett despairs to have missed his chance.  He throws himself into the ranch, into rodeo.  He drinks.  He scraps with the Tillersons. 

Perry and Rebecca make him an uncle, which delights him.  Royal makes his disappointment in his younger son no secret, which hurts Rhett deeper than he’ll admit to anyone.

Three years.  Cecilia mentions you from time to time.  When she runs into your uncle in town, she gets the news, which she conveys over the dinner table to the rest of the Abbotts.  By the time it trickles down to Rhett, it’s just facts:  how you like college, how you’re getting good grades.

Rhett doesn’t think his mother knows about your falling out.  He thinks your uncle can guess at it:  when Rhett sees the man in town, he’s met with a stony stare, curt words.

He hates the way he left it with you.  Every time he thinks about it, his stomach twists and cramps at the wash of shame that courses through him.  There are many times during those three years apart that he thinks of you, that he has the idle thought to reach out.  He has your number, your email.  He could reach out.  He could apologize.

He always thinks of you when he’s working on the lower field of the Abbott Ranch.  It butts against your family’s ranch, a quarter mile of shared fencing, and part of the reason why his mother and yours had been such good friends—and why you and Rhett had been childhood friends too.  There’s a section of fencing with a gap perfectly sized for a child’s body, and both you and Rhett had squeezed through it plenty of times as you went to each other’s houses.

He doesn’t know why your friendship faded.  You used to be inseparable as children, the best of friends.  You used to play in the Abbott barn with Rhett until Royal shooed you both away.  Rhett used to sleep beside you in a tent in your backyard, your mother within earshot and ready to usher you inside if either of you lost your nerve after a night of telling each other ghost stories. 

And when your parents died, Rhett did everything he could to help, in his own childish way:  he clowned around to try and coax a smile from you, he offered awkward hugs when you cried.  Once, he even baked you cookies (with Cecilia’s help).

The drifting apart came in middle school, he guesses.  That’s when the boys and girls started to separate.  That’s when Perry made sly jokes about you, called you Rhett’s little girlfriend, and Rhett bristled at the taunt while you looked hurt at Rhett’s bristling.  You spent less time together:  Rhett fell in with the other boys who drove their trucks outside of town for bonfire parties on the range and dreamed of rodeo and buckle bunnies while you turned inward, studied harder, started dreaming of life outside of Wabang.

When he works on the Abbott ranch’s lower field, he sees the gap in the fencing and marvels that he was ever small enough to squeeze through it…and yet it gives him a pang to see it, to remember those golden years of his childhood he spent with you. 

He could reach out.  He could apologize.  He could, after an opening salvo, express his own confusion and frustration about why you had asked him to take your virginity in the first place.  He guesses that you trust him—or trusted him—but he can’t pretend it didn’t unnerve him all the same.

He could reach out, but he doesn’t. 

Rhett doesn’t see you again for three years.

-----

It comes with no warning, the next time he sees you.  There’s been no chatter about you returning to Wabang for the summer.  You’ve spent other summers at college, working internships and taking classes, so Rhett didn’t expect to see you this summer. 

Rhett sees you in the town proper, just like that, like it’s just another day.  Which it is, except there you are:  standing outside of a restaurant, balancing a flat box of pizza in one hand while a six-pack of beer dangles from the other hand.  You’ve been cornered by one of the older Wabang residents, the mother of one of your high school classmates, and judging by the expression on your face, Rhett guesses you’re calculating how to extricate yourself from the situation.

He's idling in his truck and only has a moment to study you.  You look exactly the same—same face, same hair—yet you seem completely different.  It takes Rhett a long moment to realize why; he doesn’t piece it together until he’s pulled away and is driving towards the ranch.

You seem different because you seem taller—because you’re standing straight.  Perfect posture, shoulders back.  Rhett’s never seen you stand like that before:  as a teenager, you had a way of walking bent over a little, your shoulders rounded over and in like you were trying to pull in on yourself.

-----

He catches glimpses of you here and there.  He hears people mention you—college girl back from the great wider world—and Rhett can’t quite account for the feelings your name or face stir up in him.  Sometimes it makes him duck his head, slink around guilty, like others could read those terrible words his said to you the last time he saw you. 

Pity-fucking the town orphan, he had said.  The words are seared into his memory, as permanent as any tattoo.

Other times, though, the mention of your name or a glimpse of you fills him with a lightness, an airy feeling he remembers from your childhood together.  Like all he has to do is slip through that gap in the fencing to go find you, to take your hand in his for some adventure.

-----

It’s funny how some of the stringent cliques of high school soften once everyone graduates.  Rhett still hangs out with his friends from then, since none of them have left Wabang, but interlopers come and go and are no worse for wear for it. 

The bonfires still occur out on the range but there’s less stridency about who does and doesn’t belong, who was and wasn’t invited.

You never went to a bonfire in high school.  You weren’t exactly friendless back then, but you hung with similarly quiet and studious girls.  Girls who spent their Friday nights sleeping over at each other’s houses, watching movies and dreaming about lives far from Wabang.  But one early summer night, you turn up at the bonfire, in tow with Billy Tillerson and his girlfriend and a handful of other friends.

That riot of feelings.  Guilt and hope in equal measure.  The beer Rhett has already drank doesn’t help.  He’s just tipsy enough, his thoughts just fuzzy and sluggish enough that when you turn up in the circle of firelight, he openly gapes at you, and it draws your attention.

Three years after that terrible fucking night at the hotel, Rhett Abbott is finally looking you square in the eye.

Pity-fucking the town orphan, his memory hisses at him, and a sick wave of shame washes through him.

But if you’re remembering the terrible thing he said, Rhett can’t tell.  You stare at him in the flickering firelight, but then you tip your head at him, a scant nod, and the corners of your lips curve into a semblance of a smile.

It’s been three years, so it’s better than nothing.

-----

He sees you again in the next few weeks, here and there.  At the bar, around town.  Each time, you exchange nods of recognition but little else.

Cecilia gets wind of you being back for the summer, and she spends a Saturday morning baking up a double batch of your favorite cookies—pumpkin chocolate chip.  She underbakes them a shade so they stay soft in the middle, just as you and Rhett always liked them best when you were kids, and then she thrusts the foil-covered platter into her younger son’s hands with the directive to deliver them to you.

Maybe Rhett never gave his mother enough credit.  Cecilia seems to know about the rift between you after all.

“Life’s too short to stay mad,” she tells him before she sends him on his way. 

“Who says anyone’s mad?”

She rolls her eyes, a universal expression that all mothers seem to have that says I’m your mother, you’re not pulling a fast one on me.

“Her mom and I were best friends, but we had our spats.  We never let it turn into a cold war, though.  Talk it out, yell if you have to, but work through it.”  She pats his shoulder, and her eyes have a film of tears as she remembers her best friend, your mother, dead now for these long years.  “Life’s too short.”

-----

Something about his mother’s words make Rhett take the old path to your house—through the lower field, to the gap in the shared fencing, though he has to climb over the fence now that he’s too big to squeeze through the narrow space between the posts.

Each step towards your farmhouse brings back a million memories.  There’s the overgrown bank of Rocky Mountain iris.  Rhett remembers how you cut a bouquet of them (uneven, stems weeping sap) for when his childhood dog died and was buried behind the Abbott barn.  There’s a wide fire pit where your father used to patiently supervise as the two of you caught marshmallows on fire for s'mores.  There’s the flat patch of prairie where your parents pitched a small pup-tent that you and Rhett used to sleep in during warm summer nights.

It baffles him that he used to sleep right beside you, tucked in his Power Rangers sleeping bag while you slept in your Sailor Moon one beside him.  It baffles him how childhood can be so completely innocent, and how it can slip away in an instant.

The house looks the same from the outside, and when Rhett knocks at the back door, he finds that he’s…not excited, exactly.  But not dreading it.  You were his best friend, and his mother is right.  Life is too short.

Your uncle is the one who answers the door, and the cool expression on his face pulls Rhett up short.  But he says nothing other than “c’mon in, then,” and once Rhett steps into the house, your uncle hollers for you somewhere deeper in the home.  Tells you that you have a visitor and that he’s heading into town for supplies.

Then Rhett hears the familiar cadence of you running down the stairs, and it tugs at something in his chest—you ran down those stairs the same way as a child, hitting the top three carefully, then rushing down the rest.  You must meet your uncle near the front door because he hears the two of you murmuring, but he can’t make out the words.  Then the door slamming, the roar of your uncle’s truck’s engine, and then you’re standing in front of him, the same semblance of a smile from the bonfire.

*****

The two of you sit outside near the fire pit, the platter of cookies between you.  You have no idea what bit Rhett’s ass, but after the barest bit of small talk (“How’s it going?” and “How’s college?”), he immediately launches into the big shit.

“I hate how we left it,” he starts.  “That night.  You know.”

You bite back a snort, and you pluck another cookie from the platter, break it in half, pop it in your mouth.  You chew slowly, give yourself time for that old wash of shame to course through you, then ebb away.  It still makes your face burn hot, three years later.  Every time the memory surfaces, you shove it down, but not before you remember the mortification of getting cold feet, of standing in front of him half naked while he called you the town orphan.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“I should have never said it.”

You shrug.  “S’fine.”

“It’s not.”  He sighs, takes his ball cap off and swipes his hand through his hair.  “I’m sorry.  I shoulda said it sooner.  Should have apologized that same night.”

You glance over at him.  You take in his profile:  his jaw twitches at how tight he must be clenching it, and his blue eyes are fixed out in the field, the stretch of land between your ranch and his.  He’s so damned handsome, but you often forget the fact because you still think of him as just the boy next door, your childhood best friend, and you didn’t think of him in terms of “handsome” or not back then.

You shift your gaze back to your shoes.  “I should have apologized too.  I should have never put you in that position in the first place.”  A beat, and you add, softer, “I’m sorry, Rhett.”

You hear movement beside you and feel his eyes on you.  “You don’t have to apologize for that.”  He sounds surprised, and it makes you turn and look him in the eyes for the first time since you sat down.

“I do.  It was awkward, and I made it more awkward, and it was stupid.”  You shake your head, huff in frustration to remember the girl you’d been three years ago.  Not that long, really, but you’ve grown up a lot since then.  “I was an idiot.”

Rhett chances a smile.  “You’re a lot of things, but idiot isn’t one of them.”

“Yeah, but it was stupid to ask you.”

His smile slips a bit; he leans back a shade.  “It wasn’t stupid—”

“I mean, I put you in a weird position.  That’s all I mean.  And it was stupid for me to be so worried about it.  It’ll happen how it happens.  We aren’t…I mean, we weren’t…”  You trail off, huff in frustration again.  “We used to be best friends.”

He sighs too.  “Yeah, I know.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“I know.”

“And I guess I was getting nervous about leaving Wabang, and nervous about going away to college, and I missed my friend and had this…this problem, I guess, so…”  You hold up your hands, helpless, and it makes Rhett smile again.

“Not everything is a problem that you need to solve,” he says, and he sways towards you, elbows you in the side just like he used to do.

You laugh a little.  “That was, though.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“Says the guy who never had that problem.”

He laughs, elbows you lightly again.  “You give me too much credit.”

That makes you remember the tenor of the situation three years ago.  High school.  Rhett pining over Maria.  She left Wabang, you heard.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him now.  “I heard Maria left town.”

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything about it.  He reaches out for another cookie and eats it, licks a crumb off his thumb.

“Anyway, I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things so weird,” you add.

He chuckles, elbows you a third time.  “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry I made things fucking awful.”

You elbow him back finally, the answer to his outreach, the old call and response from your childhood.  “I missed you, you know.  In high school and in college both.”

“I missed you too,” he replies, and it feels good, like you’ve excised some old wound together, and now you can perhaps be friends again.

*****

The two of you don’t go all the way back to childhood, but you build something else.  Tentative at first, stilted moments of conversation when you see each other in the wild, but each time feels a little easier.

You’re interning with the town veterinary clinic, and you join the old doctor as he makes house calls from ranch to ranch.  You help steady horses while he vaccinates them.  You smear on paste for ringworm, hold his instruments when he cleans a hoof abscess.  You help him birth breech cattle; you stroke the muzzle of an old dog when it’s put to sleep. 

Rhett sees you when you join the vet at the Abbott ranch one day.  Royal’s favorite mare has a bad back hoof, and it makes Rhett smile to see you so professional.  You question Royal about the horse’s diet; you question the vet about what he thinks.  The vet asks you for your opinion, and you pause before you answer, look off into the distance thoughtfully before you tell him that a supplement of copper and zinc will help.

Cecilia invites you in afterwards for lemonade, and you accept gratefully.  The two of you chat, and Rhett is left as a third wheel so he gets to look his fill of you.  You seem more…comfortable with yourself.  He noticed it that first day when he saw you again in Wabang.  You sit up straight; you don’t curl in on yourself like you want to be invisible.  He remembers you from high school, how you always seemed to be mid-cringe…and it reminds him of that night in the hotel, how you had cringed away from him, shirtless as he got frustrated because you had been nervous.

He knows he apologized and you apologized and it should all be behind you, but it still makes him feel queasy with shame.  Pity-fucking the town orphan.

“Your mom would be proud,” Cecilia tells you, and you duck your head, mumble something, and just like that, you’re that high school girl again.  It makes the queasy wash of shame cede to a wave of protectiveness in Rhett.

Then you stand up and thank her for the lemonade, and she makes you promise to join them for dinner soon.  When you nod at Rhett, you try to step past him but he blocks your path.

“Hug tax,” he says, but it makes you burst into laughter.  Your mom used to do that:  block yours (and his, when he visited) path, demanded hugs as payment for passage.

“I smell like horse manure and sweat, Rhett Abbott.”

“I guarantee you I smell worse, but rules are rules.”  He holds his arms open, and you laugh again, step into them for a moment.  When he whispers “you stink” into your ear, it earns him a squawk of outrage and a pinch to his side, but you laugh the whole way back to your truck.

-----

You join them for dinner a few nights later.  You get to meet the newest Abbotts, Rebecca and Amy, and you break up the general tension that radiates off of the dour Royal like a miasma.

The dinner is largely uneventful.  Rhett catches you matching faces across the table at Amy, which makes the little girl laugh.  Cecilia asks about your years at college so far, and Perry jokingly asks if you’ve had any boyfriends since Rhett.

“No, none,” you reply simply, but it makes Rhett think.  It makes the gears start to turn.  He always assumed your so-called problem was solved while you were away, your virginity shed in some dorm room or apartment or at a party.  But he searches back to that conversation you had when he brought you the peace-offering cookies.  What did you say as you stammered out your own apology?

It’ll happen how it happens. 

Present tense, not past.

-----

He verifies it over that same weekend.  There’s another bonfire.  You turn up with the same crew as before—apparently you’re friendly with Billy Tillerson’s girlfriend.  Now that you and Rhett are back on good terms, he approaches you halfway through the night, and the two of you peel off a little separate from the rest.

“Big fan of the Tillersons then?” he asks, his tone mock-disgusted.  You hear the underlying playfulness and laugh.

“There’s a certain brand loyalty there, yeah.”

Rhett pulls a face, which makes you elbow him.  “Why?”

“Well, their cousin Drew took me to the winter formal sophomore year.”

“So?”

Another elbow to his side.  “He was my first kiss.”

“Gross.”

You laugh again.  “It could have been worse.  He popped a mint beforehand, at least.”

Rhett grunts at that, but he lets the moment lie for a beat before he asks, in a tone he hopes is casual, “did Drew Tillerson help you with your other problem too?”

You laugh again, but there’s less merriment in it.  “Negative, Ghost Rider.”

Maybe he shouldn’t push it, but he’s had a few shots of Fireball chased by plenty of beer, so he plunges head-first.  “Someone at college, then?”

That doesn’t elicit a laugh.  “No,” you reply, and now there’s an edge of tension in your voice.  A tread lightly edge.  Which…Rhett Abbott rarely treads lightly—he more often charges headfirst like a bull, and that’s exactly what he does now.

“Someone I know?”

“No.”  He glances at you, catches your narrowed eyes fixed on the fire.  “Leave it, Rhett.”

He doesn’t leave it.  He plunges head first.  “So it’s still a problem?”

It must be.  You must still be a virgin because you’re so discomfited.  You obviously hear judgement in his voice—judgement that doesn’t exist, of course—because you hike your shoulders up around your ears and hunch away from him.  You look so much like your high school self, suddenly insecure and cringing, and you mumble something about it not being a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone else, and then you duck away to go find someone else to talk to.

-----

The two of you hang out through the summer.  He works at the ranch and you have your internship, but you fall into the habit of spending the evenings together.  The weekends.  You go to the rodeo with him, watch from the stands.  Sometimes you sit with Perry and Rebecca when they come, and Perry makes sly comments to Rhett afterwards.  He calls you his girlfriend, just as he had teased when you were kids, but it hits Rhett different now.

Things with you feel easy.  Low stakes.  You’re friends again, and you slowly open up to each other.  Rhett tells you a little about Royal, their difficult relationship that has only grown more strained the older Rhett has gotten.  You talk about college, how lonely it can be since you are so focused on your studies.  Veterinary school is more competitive than med school, you tell him, so how can you make time for friends?

The corollary is how can you make time for love?  How can you make time to lose your virginity?

When you asked him to take your virginity three years ago, he had been confused and a little uncomfortable about he.  He couldn’t understand why you’d ask him, but with three years’ worth of added life experience, Rhett guesses that you asked because you trust him.  Wabang isn’t that big of a town.  There’s a dearth of available men you could have asked, especially back in high school.

Three years later, the memory makes a million emotions flit through Rhett.  A nostalgia for when life was slightly easier back then.  Shame that he had said what he did, sadness that he didn’t reach out sooner, that he let the bad feelings lie for three years.

But you had trusted him, even back then, so he wonders if you trust him now.  Would you ask him again, if you weren’t so embarrassed?  What if that evening in the hotel room had gone differently?  What if, instead of getting frustrated with how nervous you were, he had been a gentler man—what if he had handed you your shirt, pulled you into a hug, laid down on the bed with you and watched a movie instead?  What if you had fallen asleep together instead, just like when you were kids?

He has to wonder if that disastrous evening has made your virginity an even bigger deal.  That you had a plan to lose it, and that plan had gone horribly, so now it’s more of an issue.

Pity-fucking the town orphan.  The memory stings.  There were so many kinder things he could have said. 

Well, he has a semblance of a second chance now.  He sees you nearly every day.  You laugh with him again, have long chats.  Maybe he can do it over again, better the second time around.

-----

He’s the one who asks, the second time around.

The two of you are in his truck, driving back from Wabang.  Your truck is in the shop, so Rhett picked you up from work, but he takes the long way home.  You fiddle with the radio, scan through the static until you find the old country station out of Jackson.  There’s an old Loretta Lynn song playing that you hum along to, and you seem to be in a good mood, so Rhett plunges headfirst into it.

“If you wanted to try again,” he says, and his voice is rough at the edges.  “I was gonna offer…”

He trails off, and you stop humming along, and Loretta finishes her song, gives way to Merle Haggard singing about how his mama tried.

“Rhett,” is all you say, but his name is both a sigh and a warning. 

“I’m just saying.”  He swallows, tightens his grip on the steering wheel.  “I messed up before.  Ruined it.”  He glances over at you, but your face is turned away from him.  You’re looking out the window at the Wyoming dusk as the sun sets.

“Rhett, c’mon.”  Less a warning now, more a plea.

“I want to,” is all he says, and you don’t reply.  You don’t say anything else other than to murmur your thanks for the ride when he drops you off, and he doesn’t talk to you again until you call him days later and say, “okay.”

-----

Three years later, he does so much better.

He keeps it simple this time.  He remembers all those sleepovers in the pup tent, your parents within earshot of any nighttime terrors.  He remembers sleeping beside you, waking up to dawn bleeding in through the nylon of the tent, dew coating everything when your mom would unzip the little door and tell you that there were chocolate chip pancakes ready for the two of you. 

You’ve never been a high maintenance sort of girl.  You’ve always loved the wilderness around Wabang, the endless sky and wild storms and purple mountain ranges in the distance.  Where better than to do this than under the night sky, out on the range?

Rhett lays down a thick bedroll in the bed of his truck, then covers it with blankets.  It’s a banner night in Wyoming:  cool but not cold, the warmth of the summer day bleeding away to a comfortable coolness.  The bugs are few.  The sky is a velvety blue-black above you, the stars a scatter of diamonds tossed across it.  The faintest band of orange glows in the west, the last bit of sunlight before it’s full dark.

You’re just as nervous as before, but Rhett keeps his head this time.  He’s not a boy masquerading as a man this time; he’s older, smarter, has more experience.  Three years ago, Rhett only had a handful of sexual encounters to his repertoire—a handful of disappointing moments, drunken rendezvous with girls from high school, a couple of flings.  Nothing deep or meaningful.

He smooths his hands over your arms, then reaches up and cups your face.  He studies you a moment, takes in the unsteady way you’re breathing.  You’re his oldest and dearest friend, and he feels a weird twinge in his chest.  He chalks it up to nervousness on his part, but he’ll wonder later if perhaps it is love.

“Okay?” he asks, and you nod.

He bends his head and kisses you, and it’s the same as before.  You’re tentative with each other, but you warm up to him quickly:  you kiss him back, tease at him with a shy little sweep of your tongue, and when he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, you’re right there—sighing against him, sinking your teeth lightly into his lower lip before you suck against it.

You must have kissed, at least, in college.  You’re better at it now.  The thought should encourage him—he won’t be your only experience—but he feels an odd wash of jealousy.  He pictures you making out with someone better than him, better looking and smarter and on track to being more successful. 

He takes it as slow as you need.  He lets you set the pace.  He strips you out of your clothing, and he allows you to strip him out of his, and you don’t cringe from him this time.  It’s likely because it’s dark outside; Rhett can’t see much, but you feel amazing under his searching hands, soft and warm.  When he trails his fingertips over your bare skin, he feels how you break out in goosebumps, and he marvels at how sensitive you are.

Rhett’s learned a lot in the intervening years.  He’s no longer an eighteen year-old fumbling through sexual interludes.  He has a better understanding of women.  He spends a long moment stretched out beside you in the bed of his truck, working his fingers into your tight heat, feeling how wet you get as he eases you into this.  He pushes one finger, then a second.  He scissors them inside you, feels the slick muscles of your core push back against him.

“Just relax,” he whispers against your neck, and he kisses you there.  He feels your pulse under his lips, and he nuzzles against you, takes in the scent of your skin.  A moment later, he feels you relax a fraction, the tight grip on his fingers released just a bit.

He can feel you relax more as he kisses you, as he fingers you.  You’re warming up to the moment, pushing past whatever insecurities you have.  The setting helps, he thinks.  It’s not some anonymous hotel room with beige carpeting and the faint scent of old secondhand smoke.  It’s outside, the open range of your home that you love so much.  A waning moon and a million stars burn above you.  It must be a million times more magical than a three-star hotel by the interstate exit.

It's certainly better for him.  It takes him no time at all to get hard, even if he’s nervous.  You’re his oldest, dearest friend, and he’s never thought of you as a woman, really.  He’s never considered you as a sexual being, so it’s a revelation to see your naked body under the faint moonlight.  It’s a revelation to touch you, to cup your breasts and to put his lips against your pebbled nipples, to grind his cock against your bare hip to relieve the tension that coils tight and hot in his belly.

Rhett stretches out on the bed roll.  He fumbles for his discarded jeans, finds the foil packet.  He scrambles to roll a condom onto himself, and then he encourages you to take charge, to take your first time into your own hands.

“You’re in charge,” he murmurs.  He takes your hand, threads his fingers through yours.  He tugs you towards him until your face is pressed near his, and he brushes his lips against yours.  “Just like ridin’ a horse.”

You snort softly.  “Am I gonna need a riding helmet for this?”

He grins up at you.  “I won’t buck you off.”

He guides you as you straddle him, grasps the softness of your hips as you settle over him.  He grips the base of his cock, gives himself a couple of strokes, then holds himself steady as you lower yourself, slide against his length, and even through the latex he can feel how warm you are.

Then you reach down and take him in hand, and it should feel weird, his best friend wrapping her fingers around his cock, but it doesn’t, and Rhett doesn’t question why because you may be a virgin but you understand the mechanics of this, and you notch the blunt head of his cock at your entrance.  When you start to slowly lower yourself onto him, every blessed thought drains out of his head, and every bit of his attention focuses on where he’s entering you—the unbearably tight grip you have, the way your hands settle on his chest as you brace yourself.  You take it slow—so goddamned slow—stilling, taking a breath, then pushing onwards. 

When you’re settled onto him, when you’re sitting flush against him, Rhett breathes out a harsh, punched-out breath, and he asks if you’re okay.  His voice is rough.  His throat feels too dry.  It feels unreal.  His oldest, dearest friend, the girl he used make s’mores with and trade ghost stories with…you’re naked, you’re nodding at his question, you’re sitting on him, and his cock is buried in your depths.  He’s just taken your virginity, and his throat feels too dry and too tight, and his brain struggles to think of the perfect thing to say to you, but your body starts to move above him and he never has a chance to say it.

Your rhythm is clumsy at first, too fast, too jerky.  Rhett grasps your waist and guides you gently.  He sets you in a slower, more even rhythm; you ride him steadily and you make the cutest little whimpers each time to settle back on him.  Each time you do, the coil of tension in his lower belly tightens more, and Rhett breathes carefully to avoid coming too soon.

He slips one hand from your hip and reaches to where you’re joined to him.  He finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he traces an infinity symbol there, around and ‘round with his thumb that makes those cute whimpers turn into outright moans.  He senses that you’re holding back, but you’re in the middle of nowhere.

“No need to be quiet,” he tells you.  “Lemme hear it, baby.”

You moan louder at that, the command or the sweet-talking nickname or both, and he notices that you start to pick up the pace, riding him faster, so he does the same—he rubs against your clit harder, faster, because he feels his own orgasm coming up fast at him.  His balls feel heavy and taut, and he’s so damned close—

“C’mon, let go,” he growls, but his sedate passivity crumbles.  He sits up underneath you, jerks a squeal from you as he sits up and wraps his arms around you.  He pulls you closer to him, and the change in position grants him another quarter-inch into you, and it makes the base of his cock grind against your clit with each bounce in his lap.

“Let go,” he orders; he mumbles it against your lips.  “I wanna feel you come, baby.  Wanna feel you come for the first time,” he says, but when you open your mouth to respond, he kisses you, shoves his tongue into your panting mouth, licks against you as you whimper from deep in your throat.

Then he feels it.  He feels it—the way your orgasm breaks through you, the hard snap of your hips as you arch against him, as your cunt grips him:  your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your arms tight around his shoulders.  You drop your head on his shoulder, and he feels your mouth there.  You stifle the sounds of your pleasure against him, and he’d admonish you, but as your orgasm tears through you, he feels the sharp bite of your teeth into his skin, and it unlocks a kink Rhett never knew he had because the sting of pain is what makes the tension in him snap.  He groans out your name, manages a shit—fuck—baby, then he comes too, ropes of his cum spilling in the condom as you tremble in his arms.

-----

In the end, Rhett Abbott claims your first time that night on the range, under the stars.

He gets your second time too, later that same night:  him on top of you, you with your legs wrapped around him, making good use of the spare condom he brought along.

He gets your third time as well, the next day.  It’s a quick moment, a bona fide quickie in the Abbott barn, the scent of clean hay and sweat as he bends you over the railing of an empty horse stall.  He pulls out in plenty of time, pants as you turn around to grasp him and jerk him off the rest of the way, his cum spilling over your warm palm.

And your fourth time.  He sneaks into your bedroom, and though your uncle is out of town for the night, Rhett still pretends you need to be quiet:  he spoons you from behind, hikes your leg over his and slides into you.  He breathes quietly as he fucks you gently, and he clasps a hand over your mouth as you come, and when your teeth nip into his calloused palm, he groans and comes too.

The next morning, your fifth time as you sit on the kitchen counter and wrap your legs around his ass as he drives into you. 

Rhett never examines his feelings around it.  When he’s alone—baling hay, fixing fences along the ranch parameter—he doesn’t let his thoughts ruminate over you too much.  There’s a truth there, buried under all the sexual interludes and underneath all the shared history and hurt, but he doesn’t excavate it. 

He only lets the facts stand.  You’re his oldest, dearest friend.  You are sexually compatible.  End of story. 

*****

You have plans to meet Rhett in town, at the bar.  You’ve had a long day at your job, deworming a flock of sheep, and you smell terrible, so you stop home to shower and change your clothes.  You stare at your closet critically; you’ve suffered for lack of a mother in your formative years.  You don’t quite understand how to be a woman—you know there’s different lengths of skirts, for example, that work best depending on one’s height or shoes, but you’re damned if you know what those rules are.

Still, you want to look nice.  You want to look nice for Rhett.  Under torture, you’d probably admit it, but you can barely even admit it to yourself:  you’re in love with him.  You have been for a while.  You loved him when you were children in that vague, puppyish way kids love each other.  You loved him when you were in high school, pined from afar and moped over sad songs on the radio because he never looked your way.

And now here you are.  Hope bubbles up in you from time to time, when you’re alone and considering what your future might hold.  You always had a deep, bleak dread that you’d always be alone—sudden orphanhood can warp a psyche, you guess.  But for the first time, you have tentative moments of hope. 

You find a sundress, the cotton a little faded but in the low lights of the bar, no one should notice.  You pull on a pair of strappy sandals.  You dust your face and neck with some of your mother’s old luminating powder, and the scent of it makes a sharp blade of melancholy lance through you.

Then you drive into Wabang, and your stomach gets those fluttery butterflies as you park, slip your keys into your purse, and walk in. 

It takes a moment to find him.  He usually posts at the bar when he’s waiting for you, the door in his line of sight, but when you enter the din of the bar, he’s nowhere to be found.  Maybe he found a buddy and is chatting with him.  Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

If your hope bubbles up in you, effervescent, then your hope is easily popped when you find Rhett.  He’s not in the bathroom and he hasn’t found a buddy, but he’s found Maria Olivares.  The wayward dream girl has returned, and she’s as gorgeous as ever (she must understand skirt lengths, you guess), and her lovely face is tilted towards Rhett as she laughs at whatever he says.  And worse, his handsome face is lit up like a damned Christmas tree, laughing too, and your hope is popped and burnt to the ground and the earth around it is salted because Rhett has never looked at you like that.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, and you turn on your heel and fast-walk out of the bar.  The path back to your truck shimmers, wavers in front of you.  You realize it’s because your eyes are full of tears, and when you realize it, they break free, start to course down your face.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself, and you repeat it over and over:  as you get into your truck, as you turn the ignition, as you peel out of the parking lot and as your tires throw up an arc of gravel.  You repeat it like a mantra, and you fix your attention on the road.  You drive home; you leave Rhett at the bar, and it’s a confirmation when he doesn’t text you until the next morning asking where you’ve been.

By then, though, you’re already halfway gone.  It’s August, after all, and school is starting again soon, and leaving Wabang a few weeks early is easy enough.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #outer range #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

[velvetmud]

tongue ring temptation

your father’s neighbor and close friend joel is fixated on your tongue piercing and fantasizes about all the things you could do with it.

warning(s): 18+ smut, dbf!joel, 69ing, daddy kink, dirty talk, age gap, let me go on…….

not a request, just an idea I had cause I think tatts and piercings in weird places is hot. dad’s best friend!joel is late 30s/early 40s, meets reader when she’s 18, takes places while she’s mid early 20s. joel is for sure a weirdo.

au no outbreak, just the dad’s best friend dynamic is so taboo and hot imo so I had to join the bandwagon and write this filth. anyways!!! thank you for clicking and reading and interacting:) it’s seen and super appreciated !

-

honestly, you didn’t know how the word got around about your new tongue ring so fast. either way, when your family tried asking about it, you declared it as nothing but a fashion statement. and sure, there’d been plenty of curious eyes trying to catch a peek since.

but really, the only pair of eyes burning the back of your head so persistently, almost shamelessly was always joel miller. joel, mr. miller, the mystery man that lives alone down the street. also amongst your father’s neighborhood friend group. even if joel was a little on the quieter side compared to the rest, it wasn’t hard to see what he thought about you.

it’s just this phase she’s going through, your father says to joel as they lay in lawn chairs in the backyard. she’s just a punk-y kind of girl. I don’t even know how many times she’s come home during the holidays with another tattoo or a new hole in her face. barely recognize her anymore. kids, am I right?

joel’s grip around the can of beer almost crushed it. he forces himself to refrain from giving any kind of reaction. the adam’s apple in his throat bobbed up and down as he gathers up more stoicism and some goddamn composure.

“yeah. guess she is lookin’ pretty different nowadays.”

joel doesn’t know what else to say after that. he gulps down the rest of his cold brew and turns his head to dreamily stare off into the window of your vacant bedroom.

even if it’s only allowed for a brief moment, his mind still goes wild thinking of how gorgeous you’d look choking on every inch of his dick while he fucked your mouth relentlessly. in an instant, his body feeds him some more fantasy fuel. his dick slowly sprang up, on the verge of begging for at least a little attention and relief in his jeans.

and yeah, he already can’t help it anymore.

his mind drifted off further away, beginning to imagine the kinds of things you could do with that new stud in your tongue. how much hotter it’ll be kissing you with it. swirling his own tongue around the ball. maybe after tonight he’ll look up some vibrating tongue rings from the mall to buy you—

your dad’s phone rings obnoxiously, snapping joel out of his embarrassing daze. he watched in the corner of his eye as your father’s face lit up after answering it.

“there she is. late flight, huh? come say hi to me and joel out back once you get here, honey.”

-

throughout the night it wouldn’t have been as much heinous torture if you hadn’t been reciprocating all of his micro advances.

he’d lick his lips like he was parched while you’d talk and catch up with him and your parents. felt even more devious when you’d absentmindedly start playing with the shiny silver ball in your mouth. like a secret just for him to see.

he makes an innocent attempt at conversation alone while your parents do their own bickering. joel had asked you if it hurt when you got it. you wanna roll your eyes at such a typical question, but he seems genuinely baffled. still laughing it off, you go on explaining it only hurt to eat and you had to hold off on smoking for a bit but now it’s all healed. completely.

implying you could do whatever he wanted to him and then some.

around midnight was when the casual ‘welcome home’ shindig was over. joel helped load your luggage upstairs, helped your parents clean up and even helped wash the dishes right next to you.

someway and somehow, there was an unspoken bet that both of you should just play pretend when it was time to say goodbye, meet up later some place elsewhere. where you could both be alone.

joel has a subtle smirk pointed at you, looking like you possess this dirty little secret only the two of you share. the tension in the room has you two in a chokehold. he slowly moves in to hug you, tightening once both of you loosen up and relax into it. before you have a chance to say anything, your parents are right back behind and waiting to say their goodbyes to joel too.

he eats the moment up, wanting to take the opportunity to turn you red as a tomato again.

“I feel bad for your dad, you’re really growin’ up pretty, sweetheart. probably already breakin’ hearts.”

you barely register your parents in the background giving their ooohs and awwws about how much you’ve grown up too. your dad agrees with him, that he really is fucked. joel thinks he doesn’t know the half of it. they say their good nights and good byes, and joel steadily keeps his eye on you knowingly.

about an hour later, you’re treading lightly down the dark street to his house, knocking rhythmically with both fists on his back door.

joel is shirtless in old plaid pajamas as he slides the screen door open and turns a light on. when the initial shock and excitement washes over him, so does the hesitance, and he goes on and on and on. tries to warn you about the consequences, and blah, blah, blah. luckily you’ve quickly found your way of easily shutting his worries down, going in and kissing across his jaw and down to his scruffy neck while you reassure him it’s okay, y’know. not like I’ll even dream of telling him about this. know you’ve thought about it too.

his breathing gets labored once you had him right where you wanted him, and he decides fuck it. it was only a matter of time before he was gonna do something about his problem anyway, with or without you here.

he was already going to hell for thinking about it, fantasizing about you and what skills you could show off with that tongue.

-

though you’ve known joel for a few years now, in your eyes he’d only ever been this shy, wounded, somewhat guarded man.

but now that you’re getting tangled up in his sheets, shedding your clothes sitting in between his toned legs, begging him to take you however he wants you; he doesn’t ever seem to shut the fuck up. he’s voicing everything he’s feeling, throwing names at you and controlling the pace however he wants. and it just makes you need him that much more, hearing how much he’s needed you all this time.

now you’re down on your knees because he shoved you there. he’s commando under his pajamas, the hard outline through the fabric making it pretty transparent.

you watch as it twitched and stubbornly whipped up and poked upwards against his stomach. he strokes the base lazily and breathes hard. you stick your tongue out invitingly.

“oh fuck—show me how good that ball on your tongue feels. yeah, that’s it—good girl. suck it all down, good little slut. mhmm.”

he cheered you on as you close your eyes and hum around the mouthful of his warm length. you feel the rapid heartbeat thumping, pulsing. with juicy fervor, your mouth starts to salivate as you suckle down the tip and swallow around whatever you can. you start to gain a sense of routine for what drove joel mad and use it to your advantage.

he moaned the longest whenever you made obscene efforts trying to wiggle the silver little ball around every one of his sensitive spots. or show it off while you flattened the length of your tongue to lick a strip from the bottom to the top.

the line beneath his tip down to the long thick vein gets your undivided attention and affection. the kitten licks give him more stimulation than he knows how to deal with. it’s so good that joel has to do a double take, yanking your face off of him. strings of spit still keep you both connected, and joel is tempted to take a fucking picture. he tries to catch his breath, angrily pinching the tip to keep himself from cumming.

he gives up only a second later and starts pumping himself with a loose grip, staring down at you while he mumbles “yeah, fuckin’ knew it. only dirty girls that like gettin’ their mouth used and fucked have these. you’re just made to drink up my cum, aren’t you? fuck. makes it so good. c’mon, open up.” he instructs, his gruff demeanor returning while his thumb pulls down on your plush bottom lip, opening your mouth up to him again.

you stick your tongue ring out with siren eyes gazing up at him. ducking your head lower, you start running the silver ball up the veiny base of his cock some more. precum slowly but surely starts dribbling out in little waves, sloppy right from the tip. you already found yourself missing what he sounds like when he’s helpless.

“fuck, stop, hold on,” he commands, the words coming out in depraved whimpers as his hands reach down to pull your head back. “enough. I wanna touch you some more.”

you unconsciously try hiding your blushing cheeks when he brought your face up to his. he grabs your chin and doesn’t allow you to hide anything from him. his palm is still pressing on the back of your head, pushing your face closer. it was as close as he’s let his lips near yours, and it started to look like he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

his big hands slide down your whole backside as he relented and connects his lips with yours. the fact that your mouth had just been going to work on his dick and he doesn’t even care. it occurred to you that that’s what might be turning him on even more while your lips slowly move together. he embraces the tang of his own pre-cum and finally goes in to play with your piercing. you hum in his mouth when he suddenly heaves you up in his lap, ripping his mouth from you and moving on to the descent of the valley between your breasts.

“these nipples sure would look real cute if you pierced them too,” he proclaims, mesmerized. two of his fingers grab one of your nipples and pinch the soft bud. it hardens while goosebumps trail beneath his touch.

“or maybe…” the pad of his finger wanders down your body all the way down to your eager clit. you immediately start rutting up against the perfect pressure. “maybe you could pierce this cute little clit next. make it feel good for both of us,” he grins, twisting the button and spits a decent amount down and rubs it in. you mewl and keen and whine out his name. “bet you’d just melt under me while I eat it. teasing you would be too fuckin’ easy.”

“thought about it over summer,” you admit. “didn’t have the money though.”

“I’ll get it for you,” he insists, head traveling down lower to stuff his face between your thighs. “think you’ll love it even more when I kiss it. tease it. looking so fucking pretty.”

you grab hold of his salt and pepper hair and comb your fingers through it, sighing and smiling. “really? you’d do that for me?”

joel nods while making himself at home. runs his tongue up and down your smooth entrance, warming up before he nuzzled his nose into your clit. the man takes the squeal coming from your mouth as a reward, and he licks up the evidence of your excitement.

“mmmhm. wanna see my cum on every tattoo, on every piercing,” he kisses your inner thigh and sticks his thumb to your chin. “starting with that tongue ring of yours, baby girl.”

“please, please joel—“

“fuck…” joel impatiently snakes the tip of his middle finger inside, feeling the wet warmth tempt him. “c’mere, I know we’re both so close. doing good for me. god, knew you were a daddy’s girl.”

your cheeks heat as slick gushed between your legs at the pet name he gave himself. you brace yourself for what elaborate plan he has next while he manhandled you around like you were nothing but a sack of grapes. he maneuvers your face in his lap while his face gets a full frontal.

“I cum on that tongue, you cum on mine.”

it’s hard not to drool when his length is in your face again, but you get the memo that he’s not fucking around anymore when you feel him plunge several fingers inside. his tongue joins to wet your clit and suck it like a gumdrop.

“joel, I’m—I’m really close, I can’t…”

“I know, I know. me too, me too just—just keep going,” he groans, feeling you clamp down around his fingers. it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be just as tight and wet around his cock. he physically aches from having to hold back, his moans buzzing through you while you gulp him down inch by inch.

you’re drunk on each other, faces stuffed in each other’s laps, in perfect sync with how close you are. sweat beads down your chest and you’re begging him to either let up or let you finish. the thick digits plunging inside you over and over make a hook. you clench down on him one last time and just barely let out your warning that there’s no hope left for you to keep lingering right at the edge.

“yeah, that’s my girl. that’s daddy’s girl. love makin’ you feel this good.”

his rough voice stutters out more blind praise while you make a slick mess. he laps up all of it, sultry greed taking over him while you come down.

just when you think you have time to recover, he’s flinging you right back down to your place on your knees. his cock is swollen and red as he fists and taps it on your mouth, signaling you to open up. hazy, you still do as you’re told and open wide, ready to catch everything he’ll give to you.

“shit, baby. that’s right, keep it open wide for me,” he panted. a deep, low warning follows as the first spurt of his cum lands right on the bullseye. your mouth is almost full by the end, and he doesn’t let a drop land anywhere else. a hand comes down to hold your jaw open before he goes down to merge you in a sloppy kiss. you feel his tongue move sensually against yours, playing more with your tongue ring. sharing the mouthful of his load.

he pulls away and wipes his mouth and tells you to swallow and show him again.

the only sound in the room is heavy breathing. you feel your limbs turn to jello and accept your fate when you try sitting up, only falling back over when he tugs you back down.

kissing your temple, he rubs your shoulder with ease before wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I uh, I know this isn’t exactly ideal,” he trails off, a post-nut wave of insecurity rushing through him when he thinks about the shit he let come out of his mouth. “but I’ve thought about that for a real long time.”

“oh, I know what you’ve thought about this whole time,” you chuckle, nuzzling your head in his shoulder and dragging a nail up and down his arm. “if I knew all’s I had to do what stick my tongue out at you, I would’ve done it forever ago. you’re easy.”

“I’m only a man, sweetheart. don’t even gotta bat those eyes and I knew I wanted you,” he finds your eyes and holds contact with sincerity.

both of you lean in and kiss once more. it isn’t leading anywhere this time. it’s just because you wanted to.

“oh and I stand by my word. we’re getting that clit pierced soon.”

you laugh and scoff and kiss him some more.

in the early hours of the morning, you’d fall asleep still wrapped around each other and sleep in late enough not to get home in time. your father’s words float back to joel’s head when he slowly wakes up and sees what time it is.

barely recognize her anymore. kids, am I right?

-

this is open ended on if they’re already this close to getting caught like fucking idiots, so I’ll leave it up in the air. thaaank you for reading and my ask is open, im still in the midst of writing existing prompts too.

masterlist + buy me a ko-fi !!

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #dbf Joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel tlou #joel miller/reader #tlou fanfiction #smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us HBO

[misshoneyimhome]

Inexperienced reader decides to sunbathe in her backyard in the smallest bikini she owns. Unfortunately she locks herself out of her house (no towel) and must ask her neighbor (William) for help like a role-playing and he’s so kind to help cause he’s a lovely neighbor.

I am so sorry babe! I’ve got no idea what I’ve done 😂 truth be told, I giggled a lot while writing this 🙈

Anyhow, I wanted to include your lovely idea, however as I wanted it to sort of fit the timeline of the story, I tried my best to be a little creative 🤍 I hope it worked 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut; m masturbating, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), cumshot;

Word count; 3.2K

[Inexperienced!reader x Willy]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you (the one with the help) I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

Tuesday had been an absolute delight. The outdoor training session had once again gone smoothly, and to top it off, William had had the opportunity to bring his dogs along.

There was always something special about playing outdoors in front of fans. Every player felt thrilled and excited without the pressure of a match.

However, as the day came to an end and William returned home, unfortunately, you weren't there.

Fortunately for you, you had been invited out for dinner by your colleagues for some social activities, leaving William alone at home.

Not that he minded though. Despite his love for your company, sometimes the peace and quiet after a long day of training and interactions was something he looked forward to.

So after grabbing a bite to eat, enjoying the delicious leftovers you had made sure to leave for him, he relaxed on the sofa, the TV playing reruns that didn't really capture his interest.

Instead, he scrolled through his social media, browsing photos of the events from the past few days, simply relishing in the memories they had created.

However, when one of the photos showed you in your revealing outfit, a sudden spark ignited within him.

It's no secret that you’d looked incredibly sexy during the all-star event, and as he reminisced about the weekend's escapades, his mind slowly drifted to the sexual activities the two of you had indulged in over the past couple of days.

First, there was the teasing; unable to touch each other, yet both of you pushing every button imaginable.

His hand slowly moved to his crotch as he remembered the days filled with your outfits, perfectly hugging your curves, and how you'd been admiring his style at the event.

Then there was the sex following the event. Though it had been fun to tease one another, the moment you finally gave into to each other was beyond heavenly like.

And then, there’d been the jealousy. The rather intense and frustrating moment when your ex suddenly reappeared in your life, intruding on your space, leaving William feeling irritated.

William's hand slid under the fabric of his sweats and boxers, gently grasping his semi-erect cock, as his thoughts shifted to the way you had interacted once back home.

The way he had used your body to release his frustrations, overstimulating you in a manner he hadn't before. But when you used the safe word he had previously mentioned, a rush of guilt washed over him. Despite finding it arousing to use the wand on you, his sole intention was to bring you pleasure. So, he discarded the toy and made love to you, pouring his devotion and emotions into every thrust, guiding you to the climax he always wanted to provide, eventually reaching his own peak and ejaculating onto you.

Just the memory of it could almost bring William to climax once again. But instead, he moved gently, stroking himself slowly as he reclined on the cushions, allowing his mind to wander freely.

He thought about how incredible you always made him feel. Whether it was the tightness of your walls around his throbbing cock or the way your sweet, naughty mouth took him deep, you always made him feel amazing.

His cock throbbed in his hand as he kept his imagination alive, envisioning the different scenarios the two of you could explore together. Toys, new positions, bondage, and much more. Perhaps one day, he'd even surprise you with a delicate outfit to enhance your figure while he fucked you thoroughly.

The possibilities intrigued him, and as William continued to imagine, he let his mind drift while pleasuring himself with closed eyes.

Despite the chilly February weather in Toronto, his thoughts gradually turned to what the off season might hold for the two of you. Dreaming of the possibilities that lay ahead.

**

As the sun bathed your backyard in its golden glow, you settled onto your lounge chair, relishing the warmth against your skin. It had been a busy week, and this moment of tranquility was exactly what you needed to unwind. With a satisfied sigh, you closed your eyes, allowing the calmness of the moment to envelop you. "Ah, this feels so good," you thought to yourself, "just what I needed to recharge." The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant chirping of birds provided a serene soundtrack to your afternoon of relaxation. "I could stay here forever," you mused, letting yourself drift in the peaceful tranquility of the moment. The worries of the world seemed to fade away as you luxuriated in the sun's comforting embrace, feeling completely at ease in your own backyard sanctuary.

But your peace was short-lived as a light breeze suddenly swept over, and you heard the click of the door closing behind you. Panic surged through you as you realised you'd locked yourself out, dressed only in the smallest bikini you owned, with no towel in sight. "Oh shit, not now," you thought, your heart racing as you frantically searched for a spare key or any way to get back inside.

Heart pounding, you glanced around, hoping for a miracle. But as you surveyed the backyard, dread settled in your stomach. There was no way back in without assistance. Then, with a sinking feeling, you realised there was only one option left: you'd have to ask your neighbour, William, for help. Remembering that he had a spare key from the last time you locked yourself out, where you had decided it was a good idea to have a neighbour to turn to for help.

However, William wasn't just any neighbour. He was undeniably attractive and kind, which caused you to hurriedly pass by him every time you were about to run into each other on the street, knowing that you were slowly developing a crush on him. You had seen him jogging past your house a few times, dressed in nothing but a tight t-shirt and very short shorts, showcasing his muscular thighs. And you couldn’t deny that he had crossed your mind a few times as you pleasured yourself, imagining him being the one to touch you and bring you to orgasm instead of your vibrator.

So, with a small knot of nerves forming in your throat, you braced yourself to knock on his door. With trembling hands, you made your way to his door, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "This is so embarrassing," you thought to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you knocked, praying that he wouldn't mind your sudden intrusion.

The door swung open, and there stood William, a look of surprise quickly morphing into concern as he took in your predicament. "Hey y/n, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle. He was wearing his usual white tank top, snugly encasing his muscular chest, displaying his chest hair and masculine frame. However, as you stood there with your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, his gaze couldn’t help but linger on you in very little clothing, his lips forming a small 'o' as his eyes traveled up and down your figure.

Though you sensed the slight awkwardness between you, you managed to stammer out an explanation, feeling mortified as you recounted your foolish mistake. "I-I locked myself out, again… and I don't have a towel, and—" you broke off, feeling utterly exposed.

But to your relief, William's expression softened, and he offered you a warm smile. "No worries at all. Let's get you back inside," he said, reaching for his keys.

Gratitude flooded through you as you made your way back to your house, William's presence a comforting reassurance in your moment of distress. The warmth of the sun seemed to linger, matching the warmth you felt in your heart from his kindness.

"Thanks," you offered him a sweet smile as he unlocked your door so you could step inside.

"No problem," he chuckled. "But maybe you should consider having another key lying around," he suggested with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I know, I just haven’t had the chance to get an extra one made," you let out a small sigh, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you shared heartfelt laughter, standing in your doorway as you briefly forgot that you were only wearing a tiny bikini.

"Well, good thing I don’t mind when you ask me for help…" William added with another smile, yet you couldn’t help but sense hints of flirtation behind his words.

Shaking off the tension, you flashed him a smile. “And I don’t mind asking you for help…” you spoke softly, your composure slowly relaxing as you found yourself feeling at ease in William’s presence. For a brief moment, neither of you spoke, only the warmth of the summer hanging in the air as your eyes locked onto each other. However, feeling the sudden need to break what might be an awkward moment, you simply blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Ice tea!”

William's expression shifted to confusion, yet he couldn’t suppress a chuckle before you continued.

“I mean, would you like to come in for some ice tea,” you asked nervously, feeling the sweat on your skin not only forming because of the heat but also because you felt so nervous around your good-looking neighbour. “As a thank you.”

And with another light laugh, William just nodded. “Sure, ice tea sounds great.”

As you both stepped into the small open kitchen, you politely guided him to take a seat on the bar stool while you poured him a cold drink.

“Let me just change into something… more appropriate - then I’ll join you,” you flashed him a friendly smile. However, to your surprise, William halted you.

“Why?” He flashed a mischievous glance. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?"

“Uhm, I just figured… maybe I should be wearing a little more… now that I have a guest,” you tried to explain.

“Come on, y/n,” William grinned again as he rose from his seat, taking a step closer to you so you could almost feel his chest. “Am I really just a guest?”

His question caught you a bit off guard, and you had to gulp as he stood so close that your breasts lightly touched him.

Gazing up at his sweaty, summer-glowing face, you tried to form a coherent sentence, wanting to express how he had never just been a random neighbour to you.

“I suppose not,” you managed to speak softly, your voice just above a whisper.

Then with a confident expression, William gently cupped your face and leaned down to connect your lips. And it felt beyond amazing. The way your mouths moved in sync, massaging each other and expressing the desire you held within.

Your hands were eager to feel him as well, exploring his chest as he held you close, his tongue assertively seeking permission to enter your mouth, which you granted him without hesitation.

William could taste the sweet drink you’d been enjoying while sunbathing, mixed with the saltiness of your saliva.

It was everything he’d fantasised about whenever he’d seen you around. And now, he was finally able to satisfy his appetite. The way you had indirectly invited him with your teasing little outfit was intriguing, and when you asked him to come inside, the temptation was too great to resist.

Then breaking apart from the kiss, you both let out a breath of relief, refilling your lungs.

“God, you taste just as amazing as you look,” William complemented you as he held your face close to his. “I bet you taste just as sweet between your legs.” His voice was seductive and filled with desire, yet you felt a certain level of calm under his touch.

Feeling your own small level of confidence peak, you let out a small gasp and looked deeply into his eyes. “Why don’t you find out?” you almost whispered. And you need not repeat that.

With a smirk across his lips, William pushed you, causing you to take a few steps back until your lower back hit your round dining table. And swiftly, he hoisted you to sit on its edge.

You couldn’t help but smile at his passionate behaviour as he once again connected your lips in an eager kiss, feeling your core tingling in mere anticipation.

His large palms quickly explored every bit of skin you had to offer, massaging your breasts through your little top. Yet, he quickly untied the small strings, and the fabric fell away. Though he hadn’t seen your breasts naked before, the tiny top hadn’t left much to the imagination. And following the top, William’s fingers delicately traced down to untie the string on your bottoms, and soon they met the floor as well.

You were completely under his spell. With  the warm summer weather, you felt nothing but heat and excitement being so close to William. And it only intensified when he began slowly moving his lips down your neck, lightly biting along the way as he traveled further south and down your torso, paying attention to each nipple. Then, moving past your breasts, William came closer and closer to your needy core, pulsating as it patiently awaited his arrival.

Kneeling in front of you, William smirked as he admired your flushed flesh, already eager for him. Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he prompted you to lean back and support yourself on your arms, as he took a firm grip around your thighs bringing his mouth closer to your core.

Your hand swiftly found his sweaty blonde locks, gently pulling to signal your desire to have him please you. And you didn’t need to wait long before William delved his warm mouth into your centre, causing you to let out a soft breath.

“Oh yes, Will…” you moaned out loudly as his tongue skilfully moved through your folds, flicking your clit and gently sucking the sensitive flesh of your lips. “Oh please, more….”

It was an incredible sensation, having him between your legs, making your core drip as his tongue and lips worked their magic, shifting between teasing your entrance and sucking your sensitive nub. Then, William shifted a little in his kneeling position, smoothly releasing an arm to let two of his digits find your entrance. And gently, he pressed his fingers against your walls, easing them in to meet your heat.

“Yes, Will… mmm,” your moans grew louder as William started pumping his fingers, stimulating your muscles while his mouth remained on your clit, pushing you closer to a pending orgasm.

“Mmm, you taste like heaven, baby,” William mumbled into your core, causing electric sensations to course through your body, sending your mind into bliss.

And as he continued to devote his undivided attention to your cunt, you felt your legs beginning to shake. "Willy," you managed to breathe out, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You sensed satisfaction in him, as if he were smirking with contentment, making you a mess under his touch. "I'm gonna..."

William gently withdrew his mouth from your warmth and focused on using his fingers to bring you closer to the brink, fulfilling your intense longing.

"Mmm, yes, come for me," he softly encouraged as he pumped his digits in and out, completely coated with your honey. And it didn't take more than a few seconds for you to tilt your head back, closing your eyes as you let waves of ecstasy fill your mind, pleasure surging through your veins, leading you to climax.

"Shit, Will," you deeply breathed, opening your eyes as you gradually calmed down from the intense orgasm. And with a satisfied grin across his lips, William gently withdrew his fingers, licking them clean, before rising from his position.

“You’re so amazing,” he praised you with a chuckle, and as your eyes intensely followed his every move, he pulled the tank top over his head and lowered his shorts, freeing his throbbing member.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you saw how big and thick it was, licking your lips as you stared at the needy shaft, ready to fill you up.

“You want it?” William chuckled darkly, enjoying how you hungered for his cock.

Raising an eyebrow, you flashed him a confident grin. “Oh, I need it.”

And you didn't have to say that twice. Stepping in to stand between your legs, William lined the tip with your entrance, taking hold of both your thighs again. And prompting you to lean back on your elbows, he pushed himself into your depths.

“Oh yes, baby,” he moaned as he felt your tight walls hugging him, harmonising your moans as well, as he started to rock his hips, letting his member stimulate your inside, while finding a steady rhythm and  slamming his skin against yours.

Your breasts bounced with every pound, and the sight of you before him was incredibly arousing.

It was scorching hot. You were both covered in glistening sweat, the sun shining into your home, mixing with the heat generated from your passionate sex. Your moans were loud, and with the open windows, everyone in the neighbourhood could probably hear you. But you didn’t care. The way William fucked you so well had your mind in a blurry state, and it was almost too much for you to handle as his big cock stretched your hole beyond anything you’d experienced before. And before long you felt another orgasm approaching.

Falling flat onto the table, you tightened your thighs around William, eager to reach the peak once more as he increased his speed and pushed you closer to the brink of ecstasy. “Yes, Will… yes!”

Then with a few more thrusts, you let yourself surrender to another climax, clenching your muscles around his shaft as you arched your back, closed your eyes, and moaned out his name in capital letters.

You were a wreck before him, and William couldn’t suppress his satisfied smirk as he saw the pleasure he was causing you. However, as he kept up his pace, slamming his hips against yours, he knew he was about to reach his own climax.

“Shit, baby… mmm, I’m gonna fucking come for you,” he breathed out heavily, pounding harder and faster, digging his fingers into your skin as he neared his peak.

“Yes, Willy, come for me,” you moaned under him as your body simply followed every thrust. And with a loud grunt, William let himself give in to the pleasure, pounding a few more times before pulling out and spilling himself onto your stomach.

**

William opened his eyes as he panted deeply, his mind foggy and his skin covered in sweat as he calmed from reaching his climax.

His hand was firmly wrapped around his cock, holding still as he'd ejaculated all over his lower stomach, his sticky cum sprayed in his pubic hair and covering his hand with white.

“Shit…” he breathed out, having reached a high he’d never experienced alone before. “What is she doing to me…” William muttered to himself with a chuckle before he rose to clean himself up. “I should stop watching so much porn…”

#my asks #18+ #Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

[underoossss]

party whispers – s.h

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: alcohol mention, like one or two curse words, brief making out. FLUFF.

an: idk why but i feel like steve is the kind of boyfriend who loves to gossip with you. i also think he’d be protective of you at parties, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible. put those two thoughts together and you get this.

Masterlist

-----

The are crowds of people all around the house —the kitchen, backyard, living room, dining room. Every minute, more and more guests walk through the door in the two hours you had been at the party so far. The Cure is playing from someone’s boom box, and there’s a mass of bodies dancing in the middle of the living room. The air smells like cheese puff, chips, and alcohol, with the occasional scent of cigarettes drifting in from the backyard. You lean against Steve, your back to his chest and his hands on your waist as you watch people dance, talk, and walk around. There’s a red plastic cup on your hand, which you had accepted to be polite and Steve had declined ––he’s driving.

You take a sip of the beer but grimace and pass it to Steve. “Gross. Steve this is warm.”

Steve chuckles and takes it from your hands, then passes it to someone who’s already inebriated enough to chug it down carelessly. You gag and Steve laughs behind you, his laugh shaking your chest. Your now free hand settles on top of Steve’s at your waist and your heart jumps at the way his opposite hand moves to cover yours.

From your periphery you watch a curly haired blonde you know from high school, she gives you a death glare and hurries away from where you stand. It makes you grin.

You lean your head to the side and turn it towards Steve to let him know you’re speaking to him. He leans down, kisses your cheek indulgently, then tells you to go on. “Tamara keeps giving me dirty looks every time she passes by.” You chuckle, amused but not surprised at her childlike behaviour.

“You’re dating me, babe.” Steve’s voice is loud enough for you to hear but not too loud that anyone else can. “She’s jealous. I’m getting some of those looks myself.”

“Oh really?” You smile, turning in his arms so that you’re facing him. His hands remain steadfast on your waist, as he looks down at you with a grin. “You know what, you’re probably right handsome.” You kiss his chin. “But I know it’s something else too.”

At the look on your face Steve’s eyes widen —you swear he loves to gossip more than anyone else. You giggle, moving so that you’re leaning your left shoulder against the wall, and Steve does as well. Steve leans his face closer to yours and whispers knowing that he’s the only who’ll hear you from the music playing in the background. “Oh, you know something.”

“To make things clear it wasn’t my intention to find out but, it’s not my fault she told her friends about cheating on her boyfriend while I was at work.” You settle one of your arms over Steve’s shoulder; to anyone else it looks like two lovers flirting and the reality of what you’re actually doing makes you giggle.

“No!” Steve gasps, an amused smile on his face. “She’s cheating on Brad?”

“She was pissed when she realized I heard, and was incredibly rude to me during check out.” You say after you nod earnestly. “That’s why she’s trying to kill me with her looks. She’s got a fling going with a guy from Hawkins that’s living in Indianapolis. He’s got a brother two years younger than me.” Your forehead creases as you think for a moment, trying to recall the name. You smile when you do. “Chad something.”

“No way, Chad Mullins?” The way Steve gets excited to be in on a secret is almost comical, and it makes you lean in a peck his lips. “That dude is like two years older than me.”

“You’re ridiculous, but yes, he’s the one.” Your fingers thread through the hair at the back of Steve’s neck as you reply. “You know him?”

“He’s dating Penelope Higs!” Steve whispers and both of your eyes widen when the realization strikes you both.

“Isn’t she Tamara’s friend? Fuck, that’s messed up.” You shake your head looking out to the crowd dancing in the living room, knowing for a fact Penelope was hanging out with Tamara’s clique earlier. “Their names are so alike, Stevie.”

“What if she calls Brad, Chad.” Steve murmurs, mouth falling open at the idea.

You cover your mouth with your hand. “What if Penelope is with her when she does...” Hushed laughter escapes your lips and Steve chuckles too, both of you shaking your heads.

One of Steve’s hands leaves your waist to hold you face instead, your laughter dying and leaving content grins behind. “Fuck.” Steve whispers, staring at the ceiling for a second before his eyes meet yours again.

“What?” You ask him, a blithe smile on your face. “What, Steve?”

“You’re so pretty.” Steve shakes his head feigning distress. “You’re killing me just looking at you.”

A laugh erupts from you at his answer, and you roll your eyes to mask just how madly in love you are. Though you’re sure Steve already knows. “You using that Harrington charm on me, handsome?”

“Maybe.” Steve shrugs then leans close once more. His lips kiss yours briefly, his hand warm on your cheek. “I mean it though. Wanna get out of here?”

“Hmm.” You smile against his lips, pretending to think it over. “Depends on where we’re going.”

“I happen to know a pretty good diner with great fries and pie.” Steve mumbles against the corner of your mouth, placing a kiss there soon after. “I can also offer more kissing.”

“I do love good fries.” You smile as you lean back, looking into beautiful brown eyes that can only be described as love-struck. All these people at the party and he manages to make it feel like it’s only the two of you. “Let’s go.”

Steve’s smile is beaming as he grabs your hand tightly and starts to guide you out of the crowded house. You squeeze his hand every time you have to weave between people, afraid to lose him in the crowd. Steve stops and wraps an arm around your shoulder instead as if reading your mind and offering you whatever comfort you need. The spring air outside is refreshing after the humid air inside the house and you take a deep breath of relief.

Steve takes your hand again, and starts to walk down the front lawn over to the sidewalk. He parked further ahead when you arrived, but you don’t mind walking, the night is cool and quiet which you enjoy. At least until you hear people arguing from inside the house as you walk further away.

Why do you keep calling him Chad?! You have a problem with my boyfriend?

Steve stops walking by your side and so do you as your wide eyes meet his. In a second the two of you start laughing and running to his car, putting more distance between you and the house to laugh freely.

“I can’t believe it.” You gasp for air, resting against the passenger door. “It happened.”

“It was bound to happen.” Steve says, his laughter dying down after half a minute, leaving you both in the still quiet of the night. He smiles at you, adoring the almost dopey look on your face from all your laughter. “You know, I did promise you more kissing.”

“Then kiss me, Stevie.” You smile and quickly sigh when his lips press down on yours.

One of Steve’s hands cradle your face, tilting it up as he leans down to deepen the kiss. His other moves to your  back as he pushes you gently against the door, careful not to hurt you when your chests press together. You move your arms so that you can thread your fingers through his hair, feeling Steve’s smile a second later. Steve was right, you think as you feel his tongue against your bottom lip, how can people not be jealous when you have such a sweet, caring, and undeniably hot boyfriend. Using one of Steve’s own tricks on him you suck his bottom lip between yours before letting go and kissing him again. The groan that escapes him makes you smile and push at his chest, stopping the kiss before things get too heated.

“You also promised fries, and pie.” You smile, pecking his lips once more.

Steve smiles back, running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to fix it. “You got it, babe. We can always continue this later. My charm never fails.”

Your boyfriend winks as he opens the door for you and you slip inside.

“As if you need it with me.” You roll your eyes fondly, which only makes him laugh as he closes the door and moves to the driver’s side to take his place next to you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x f!reader

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Six) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf @mcuclintasha

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, angsty!Rick, jealousy, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: I listened to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron to write this, so... I think you can assume how this vibes. You simply have this man WHIPPED, I will not take any further questions. Thanks for reading :)) ]]

Your eyes were hazy, something warm coming across your skin, as you followed the empty hallways. Well, not empty.

Rick was there, Judith carefully held in his arms -every once in a while, he'd lean down to kiss her forehead. The casual affection took you somewhere else for a moment, like watching your grandparents in the kitchen just so natural in each other's spaces -so domestic. When you were younger, reading books about extravagance -big gestures and life-threatening situations, your mind had settled on the balance of fairytales.

Who wished for a lackluster ending? Who wanted to dance in the kitchen too early in the morning, instead of the adventure of a lifetime? It hadn't made sense then.

But watching him now, gentle and bouncing around the room, you'd realized somewhere deep within yourself... maybe you had.

The idea of a home, where the sun seeped through curtains and the smell of breakfast wavered out through the air. Smiles, and playgrounds. Movie nights, and the whispers of promises of forever.

Your brain fogged, and you blinked to try to clear your head. Even just for a solid second, you still found Rick in your eyesight. And maybe he was dusted in dirt, and his hair wasn't washed, but the idea with him made much more sense. You just couldn't chance the thought, not in this world.

"You're drooling."

Clearing your throat, you turned to the intruder -Michonne, her smile small but still enough, "Very funny."

She paused, eyes focused on you for a second -like she could tell you were off. Straightening in her seat, she fully faced you -concern furrowed in her brow, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you echoed, eyes drifting to the pair - imagining the warm glow of a kitchen instead of the cold prison walls, "-just thinking about what I'm missing, you know?"

Michonne turned back to the two, "Yeah, I know."

"Can you imagine your own backyard?" you retorted, in disbelief with a laugh aired in your tone.

"My own house," she hummed, eyes flicking to the ceiling instead, "-I think I'd have a dog."

"Sometimes," you took the edge of your shirt in between your fingers -the material soft to the touch, "-I think about what curtains I would have. Isn't that stupid?"

"No," she answered -simply.

Michonne was direct like that, her answers straightforward and steady; sometimes, you doubted she'd ever really been insecure about an idea. She seemed so confident, you never thought to go against her. You didn't know her past, but it was hard to imagine anything breaking through that resolve.

You pursed your lips, turning back to the two -he was smiling now, the crinkle by his eyes so prominent as he looked down at Judith. It was so unabashedly bright; despite his whole world crumbling, he'd still lit up your corner of the world. And maybe you were a little biased, but you thought it'd be a tragedy if it went dark again.

"You should tell him," Michonne spoke, unflinchingly as if she'd read your mind.

You whispered, a breath across the room -you'd never named it, "Tell him what?"

She placed a hand on your shoulder, a gentle pressure that guided your eyes to meet hers. Her eyes leveled with yours, the look was easy to read despite the schooled expression -she knew, and so did you. You often wondered how many could see it in you, you knew it was obvious -the gazes searching to find his first, the stares lasting just a touch too long, smiling when he did.

"I think you know."

And you did.

You just weren't sure of much, you weren't sure if this world could be... loved. Could anyone in this world love or be loved? Despite what you felt, deep in your heart, you still weren't sure. Was it even possible for it to work? With everything else so harsh and direct, how could you even begin to-

"Plus," Michonne interrupted, a smile biting at her lips, "-you could do worse."

You laughed, leaning your head back to the sky -the thoughts fleeing from your mind like leaves in the wind, "I could."

When you leveled your head, your eyes connected with something new -Rick was looking at you. Bright blue followed the movement of your face, your lips quirked into a smile and you raised a hand to wave. Trying to avoid the warmth that swirled up in your stomach and the very real feeling of 'I told you so' radiating from Michonne just beside you, you pushed forward.

And there it was, the bright smile you'd seen just moments before except this time, it was directed to you. In a spare second, he pulled Judith's little arm up and waved back -gentle movements, but the notion there stayed the same.

Laughter took the place of a response, and you couldn't quite get your brain to form anything else -it was so fuzzy with memories you hadn't made yet, but you wanted to. Eventually.

Your eyes flickered to the sky, it had to be midday at this point -just as it began to cool off in the day. With daylight flickering, you had someplace to be.

"Alright," you hummed pulling yourself into gear, "-I can only handle so much of Rick Grimes a day."

Michonne laughed, "Liar."

You snorted, walking out into the day -eyes searching for a particular person. It had started about a month ago when you and Daryl had formed a bet. He'd said something about your choice of a weapon, and you'd said something about his.

"Bet if we switched, I could kill more walkers than ya."

"You are so on."

So, with some new rules in place, Daryl had sworn on the blue sky that he'd teach you how to use a bow. Wasn't fair if you didn't know how, so it was a necessary step.

Your weapon wasn't as... complex. So, the opposite wasn't really necessary.

You eyes caught him in the field, where he stood across from a... what the hell is that?

There's was a tall branch, sticking up from the ground with burlap sacks and hay sticking out -instead of good seams and crisp corners, however, this was not quite a masterpiece.

You burst into laughter, eyes following the desperately tied rope and hay poking out of corners. It truly looked like a nightmare, but on the area where a "face" might be was detailed of an eyepatch and angry eyebrows.

"Really?" You yelled across the grass, as Daryl spun to you -shrugging as if he hadn't put any time into making... that.

Ranging closer, you extended your hand toward the character, you'd say for now, "I didn't know you were into arts and crafts!"

"Keep laughin'-" Daryl rolled his eyes, not quite responding to you as he loaded up his arrow -tone solid, but you could tell he was light.

Daryl was something you had to get used to, something you had to learn. He was a bit of an icy mystery to any outsiders, but you knew he cared an awful lot more than anyone claimed to.

"Maybe I will," you quipped, "-we ready?"

"Yea," he stood off the ground, brushing dirt off his pants, "-we're losing daylight, gotta start soon anyway."

He was surprisingly attentive, slowly doing each step at your pace -it was an air the man hadn't exposed to you yet. Kind and gentle. He was a great teacher, to your benefit.

Watching as he seemingly without a flinch, landed an arrow into the... target. Right on the eyepatch, and if you took out a ruler probably in the perfect middle. Why did you take this bet again?

Then the weapon was in your hands, the arrow already in, and just awaiting your next move. Trying to remember the steps, Daryl guided your hands to the right position and pulled back your shoulders -there was a proper posture, but you doubted he used it.

That was when a new voice presented itself, just as Daryl adjusted your grip on the bow, tilting the tip down a touch -assumingly something was wrong in your technique.

"What are y'all doing?"

You knew that drawl. He was always an echo in your brain, words bouncing around in your head -he'd stuck with you in so many different ways.

You spun around -eyes finding him with ease, "Hey, cowboy! I could ask you the same question."

Daryl hadn't said anything yet, his mouth in a stubbornly straight line and that was odd for him. Especially when talking to Rick. But then you looked at him, Judith wasn't in his arms anymore.

His flannel was rolled up his arms, and his eyes laid intently on the hand that Daryl had wrapped around your wrist to push down the bow. It was still connected there, passively, like he was waiting to take the weapon out of your hand. You hadn't minded, it was completely like a guiding hand really, nothing else.

Rick pursed his lips, something set in his jaw, "Right."

You furrowed your brow, quickly gesturing the bow to Daryl -which he with ease accepted. He knew something more than you, you could tell in the way that their eyes flicked to each other, heavy and filled with something you couldn't really read. The air stilled and brushed across your skin like a harsh gust of wind.

"Why? Is everything alright?" you asked, concern turning over in your tone. You'd always assumed the worse -especially as one of the sole medical professionals, you knew you shouldn't have gone so far out-

"What? Oh yes," he seemed to blink, facing you again -all the tension in his face seemed to melt and his hand went to rest on your shoulder, "-nothin' to worry about."

You exhaled, shaking the buzzing under your skin out as much as you could, "Okay, good."

He smiled at you, but it wasn't all there. Something was wrong, you knew it, but it apparently wasn't an emergency? Did he need to talk to you? Was he okay?

"I was just teachin' 'em how to use the bow," Daryl echoed, tone solid and seeming to address something you hadn't noticed -talking directly to Rick, "-nothin' else."

You quirked your brow, genuinely confused by the shift in the energy, "What else would we be doing?"

Rick's eyes flickered to you, where you now stood -kind of puzzled and a bit tense in the newfound energy you found yourself in. He sighed, running his other hand through his hair -you knew that was a sign.

"'Course," he hummed, his voice a little less restrained, but still not quite... Rick, "-it's for that bet you two have, right? Sorry for interrupting, just..."

He looked at Daryl -eyes unbreaking, and intense.

"Curious," he finished, eyes connecting to yours for a few seconds longer than you expected -then flicked back to the ground like he'd been embarrassed...? His hand carefully, hesitantly, drifted off your shoulder.

Before you could even open your mouth, the man cleared his throat and turned back around the way he came.

"Daryl-" you began, turning back to the other man. You weren't sure what that was, but you weren't going to just leave it like that.

"Go," he hummed, unbothered, as he carefully plucked a few arrows off the ground, "-I'm not as stupid as you think."

You rolled your eyes, relaying to comment on that later in the back of your head and trailing after Rick. He was actually pretty quick, despite the unfavorable footwear, but you somehow managed to catch up.

"Rick," you spoke, tone direct and stressed out into the meadow air.

He stopped in his place, a bit stunned it seemed, as he stood still. There was definitely something wrong, you could feel it. In a breath, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling it to you behind him. He still hadn't faced you -facing straight ahead with air to him you'd only seen once or twice in your time knowing him.

"Are you alright?"

Rick didn't respond immediately, stance shock still. You watched as his shoulders huffed out breaths, the smallest rise and fall being the only thing you could focus on. His wrist was warm in your hand, and you felt your fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin there -in an effort to soothe something you didn't know the root cause of.

His eyes flicked back to you, much softer and something more familiar to you -shining in a haze you couldn't identify, but had experienced yourself. (Merely hours before actually.) They flicked to your hand and then your face, almost in realization that you had made that point of contact.

"Shit, sorry," you pulled your hand back, tone a bit rambly, "-I didn't know if you were comfortable with that, I should've ask-"

"No, no," he echoed, pulling your hand back just to match it with his -intertwining your fingers, "-it's fine, better than fine. I am."

"Oh," you swallowed, watching now as he faced you -his own thumb cradling against the back of your hand that sent your brain into a bit of a fog, "-okay."

Rick grinned the kind that crinkled at his eyes then.

"I-" you began, suddenly remembering what you'd run after him for -blinking the fuzz out of your brain, "-you still didn't answer my question, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah-" he enunciated, eyes hanging on your hands for a second, "-I'm good, promise."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Great, even," he responded, thumb dancing against your skin and your brain almost flatlined again.

"Then," you pursed your lips, "-what was that back there?"

"Nothing," he answered back, a little too quickly for your taste, "-just curious."

"Rick-" you started, before locking onto the way he held your hand. It was the same one that Daryl had been holding just a second earlier, and your mind lit up with the flicking of his eyes to the touch, the set of his jaw, some internal dialogue between the two... oh my god.

He seemed to notice the difference in you, his own eyebrows raising in response to your change in demeanor.

"Cowboy," you hummed, daring only to look at your intertwined hands, "-were you jealous?"

Rick stilled in his place, the thumb frozen in its cycle and the breath caught in his throat. You could practically see the thumping of his heart in his chest, watching as the pink flooded up his neck -he totally was.

"Rick," you added, a little in disbelief.

He hummed, seeming to be unable to speak and his eyes lazily focused on your intertwined fingers. You found it kinda cute, actually.

"Rick," you continued, "-look at me."

He sighed, deep in his chest, the curls at the nape of his neck catching the sunlight just right. He looked pretty like this, like a painting. And finally tilted his face to meet yours -fingers squeezing your hand and thumb rubbing against your skin, his eyes were a bit distant then.

You reached your other hand up to the side of his face, trailing your fingertips along his cheekbone -the cut that you'd once been drawn to now under your fingertips, "There you are."

His breath hitched, as you brushed a few stray curls back behind his ears and let your hand rest against his skin for a few seconds longer. You could feel the heat bubble up there, as you focused your attention there -trailing along the now scab and up along the crinkling near his eyes. You smoothed them out with a few timid presses of your skin to his; it seemed so natural, so familiar.

Rick seemed in a trance almost, eyes dipping down to yours without much thought, like a sort of bliss. You wondered how long it had been since he had his face cradled like this, how long he'd missed the gentle brush of fingertips. Even just for a brush of contact, he seemed unable to speak, the air heavier in between the space than you'd known it to be before.

"Trust me when I say," you hummed, eyes straight into his -unflinchingly, "-you have nothing to worry about."

You noted somewhere deep in your head to do little things more, as you leaned back -pulling back your hand to your side but keeping the other one steady in his. Rick still stayed silent, eyes wistfully watching you fall back into your own space; he'd looked a bit conflicted. So calm and breathing peacefully, all the while his heart seemed to beat 100 miles an hour out of his chest.

Definitely cute, you decided.

"With that out of the way," you cleared your throat like you hadn't just crossed millions of boundaries that you'd established with him, "-I think you have some plans to make. You ruined mine, after all. It's only fair."

He laughed, eyes hooked on your hand in his and it was different then, you could feel it in the buzz of the air, "It's only fair."

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟭𝟳 ) ✏ 𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦 - 𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥'𝗦 𝗩𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

JENNIE’S COCO CRUSH PHOTOSHOOT

"you're going to fall if you keep sitting like that," she warns lightly, her attention momentarily drifting from the mirror in front of her. 

y/n's quick answer was heard in the background. “nuh uh.” the girl replies in a teasing, confident tone.

jennie's eyes refocus on the mirror as she engages in small talk with the stylists. they chat about the photoshoot and other things, her eyes flickering towards the side from time to time. suddenly, there's a loud bang in the background, causing jennie to jolt in her chair and immediately stand up. her gaze snaps toward the source of the noise, and her eyes widen in surprise. 

but then, as she sees what happened, she bursts out laughing. 

she picks up the camera and turns it around, revealing y/n on the floor, rubbing her hip with a sheepish grin. 

"what happened?" jennie asks in a dragged-out, dramatic voice, zooming the camera in on her sister's face. “i fell,” y/n groans out, her laughter contagious as she struggles to sit up on the floor. 

she playfully swats at jennie's camera, trying to shield her face. the idol continues to film her sister, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “listen to your sister next time!” she playfully scolds, unable to contain her laughter.

-

JENNIE’S LA VLOG

the video starts with jennie showing the backyard of her la house. she points the camera towards the pool. “i’ve never actually swam in there. don’t know why i have a giant pool in the house. but my sister loves it so i guess i can’t get rid of it. speaking of y/n,” jennie pauses to check the time on her phone. “her flight lands in an hour, she’s staying with me for the week.”

it cuts to when the younger sister arrives at jennie’s house. jennie is holding her camera as she opens the front door and hugging y/n. 

y/n’s soft laughter fills the entrance as jennie squeezes her little sister tightly. “my baby is here!” she squeals with her signature gummy smile.

the younger girl responds happily as she smiles into the camera, “i missed you too, unnie.” 

there’s another quick cut to y/n looking through the pantry, rummaging through the different items. “look at her,” jennie whispers to the camera, watching quietly as she observes her sister’s antics. “watch, i bet she wants in n out.”

“what do you feel like eating?” she then calls out loud to the younger girl. “honestly?” y/n answers back as she closes the door and faces her sister and the camera. “in n out.”

jennie follows her into the kitchen, still holding her camera, capturing every moment of their reunion. the idol raises her eyebrows to the camera, chuckling softly. “what did i tell you guys?” 

she then raises her voice, addressing her sister. “alright, in-n-out it is. double-double with animal style fries?” 

y/n's face lights up with a knowing smile. “you know me so well, unnie.” the older girl just smiles proudly and turns her attention to the camera again. “of course i do, i’m your unnie.”

“can i drive?” “absolutely not.”

-

CHANEL FASHION SHOW VLOG

the video transitions seamlessly to a behind-the-scenes montage of jennie and y/n preparing for the fashion show. the camera alternates between their perspectives, capturing candid moments of laughter, makeup touch-ups, and outfit fittings. 

y/n takes her turn behind the camera, and with a playful grin, she captures her older sister as she sits in front of a well-lit vanity mirror. the makeup artist is meticulously adding finishing touches to jennie's already flawless makeup. 

“wow…” y/n whispers into the camera, her voice filled with awe and admiration. “guys, my sister is so pretty.” 

from across the room, the idol chuckles, shaking her head in mock disbelief. jennie, who had heard y/n's comment, playfully rolls her eyes but can't hide a delighted smile. “come on, don't embarrass me,” she says with a laugh. 

the camera then switches back to jennie's view as she takes the opportunity to film her sister. y/n stands in her stunning chanel outfit. a few of the stylists were putting the finishing touches on the younger girl’s outfit as well as snapping some quick candid pictures of the other kim.

“ah, look at her,” jennie says in a hushed voice, her voice full of sisterly pride. she zooms in on the side profile of the other girl, absentmindedly admiring her beauty. “she's the real star of the show tonight.” 

-

JENNIE’S HAWAII VLOG

y/n is standing next to her sister as they stand in the ocean, the water coming just up to their shins. jennie was snapping some quick photos of herself in the blue water. however, mischief dances in the younger girl’s eyes. a devilish grin crosses y/n's face as she takes a deep breath and then, with a quick flick of her wrist, she sends a spray of water directly at jennie. 

“y/n jade!” jennie screams in mock outrage, her voice a mix of surprise and laughter. water droplets glisten on her face as she tries to shield herself, but it's too late—she's already been splashed. the camera shakes with y/n's hearty laughter as she zooms in on jennie's soaking wet face. 

“oops!” y/n exclaims in feigned innocence, giggling as she flicks her wrist again. jennie joins in the laughter, her gummy smile never fading even as she's drenched. “you’re lucky i didn’t drop my phone!” she playfully scolds, splashing some water back at y/n. 

a playful water fight ensues quickly after, with both sisters laughing and splashing each other without a care in the world. after a particularly enthusiastic splash from y/n, jennie feigns surrender. she wipes her face with a dramatic sigh. “okay, okay, you win this round,” she says with a grin, pushing her sunglasses onto the crown of her head. y/n, still clutching the camera, zooms in on jennie's soaking face. 

right before the camera shuts off, jennie’s voice is heard in the background. “you’re lucky i love you!”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

#smau #kpop smau #aespa smau #aespa x reader #winter x reader #minjeong x reader #wlw #crack fic #kpop crack #fluff #the variable masterlist #the variable #perfectsunlight

[erodasfishtacos]

omg we know how YN is about mlbrry’s short shorts but I want to know if there’s something she wears out that makes H absolutely feral

Hot As They Come

prompt: this mini blurb turned into something else completely

warnings: body issues, smut

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

——

He’s a narcissist, so anytime she has his jersey on.

They all were staying at Anne’s lake house (that Harry had purchased her) in Rhode Island for the long weekend - Easton, Cash, and Ezra were in the pool being vigilantly watched by Anne and her friend, Martha when Harry arrives.

He had to fly home from a stretch of games in San Diego, then get in the car, and drive three hours to get to his family.

YN had been inside, laying down with Briar for a nap, having the all fours kids had been exhausting these past two days - plus Briar was freshly one and still had some painful teeth coming in.

When he opens the back gate, he’s automatically met with squeals and whines when his kids realizes he’s finally there.

They’re all floating in the pool with their float vests on, except for Easton who was old enough not to have one.

Chants of ‘daddy’ echo through the backyard as they wave him closer.

Harry being a big child at heart, drops his suitcase, and kicks off his trainers and socks, then his shirt before he’s running towards the pool and cannonballing into the deep end, away from the kids.

When he pops up, hair matted to his head, all of them are giggling wildly - including Anne and Martha as Harry dives back under to pop up near his kids to make them scream in surprise and joy.

The two boys are automatically climbing all over him and he waste no time in tossing them high into the air before they’re sinking into the water.

A whimper comes from his right, near the steps, “Daddy, daddy.”

Harry takes a break from the boys to pout out his bottom lip and swim over to his little boy, scooping him up and wading back into the water.

“Hi bubba, missed you so much,” Harry tells him as he lays his head on his shoulder, sleepy and most likely ready for his own nap.

“Miss you,” He lisps back before his hand is coming up to play with the gold cross on his necklace and tucking his thumb between his lips.

“Mum, where’s YN?” He asks as he drifts towards the edge near where Anne is sat with her feet in the water.

“Inside, she’s taking a nap with Briar,” Anne replies before taking a sip of her own homemade lemonade and swishing her toes.

“Was she tired?” Harry frowns, guilt sinking into his stomach - he knew she had been stressed having to tote all four kids in the car for multiple hours.

She would also lie and tell Harry everything went fine because she didn’t want him to feel bad that he wasn’t there.

“Very. She said that Briar and Ezra were giving her a hard time on the way up. She said Briar’s teeth are coming in and she kept her up all last night,” Anne reports before adding on, “They’ve been asleep for a good three hours so hopefully they feel refreshed when they wake up.”

Harry tries to not internalize it and has to remind himself he’s not a terrible husband or father but he hates when he’s away.

The boys grab his attention again, demanding their father watch them do handstands and swim to the bottom to retrieve dive batons.

All the while, Ezra makes himself comfortable in his dad’s arms and he had removed his life vest so he was more comfortable when he naps against his warm skin.

Harry’s turning quickly when he hears the back door open and his heart jumps like a schoolboy when he sees his wife step onto the patio with his newest little baby just in a swim diaper on her plush hip.

He has to swallow hard when he scans her body, a simple black bikini on with one of his unbuttoned jerseys that’s down to her mid thigh.

She doesn’t even realize how sexy she looks is the thing, he knows she put it on to cover her body a bit more because she’s still a bit self-conscious of some baby weight.

However, he’s basically drooling, the extra weight around her hips, thighs, tummy - decorated with light stretch marks.

Harry hasn’t seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

He wants to bite that soft skin, licks those marks from where her body stretch to accommodate their chunky bubs.

Briar, who’s just learning basic words, squeaks out an excited, “Dadadada.”

Harry wades towards the shallow end where Anne’s waiting to carefully wrap Ezra in a towel while he sleeps, his mother then takes the little boy for a snuggle in the shade.

“Dadada,” Briar continues to whine with a pitiful pout on her face as she makes grabby hands towards her father.

“Oh, hi there, lil’ mama. I missed you so much, little love,” Harry hums as soon as YN shifts the baby into his arms and Briar’s pulling at her dad’s wet locks.

“Dada,” She coos back as Harry winces at the tugs to his hair and his eyes twinkling as he looks at his wife who’s smiling back.

“Hi mama,” Harry murmurs softly as he rocks Briar on his hip, his other hand reaching out to cup her jaw and bring her in for a long kiss.

“Missed you,” YN replies quietly, a bit of sadness and stress in her voice as she runs her hand down his side and squeezes his hip.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He replies back, just as quietly, and moves to kiss her forehead, “You’re such an amazing wife and mama. I appreciate everything you do for this family.”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, lips turned down a bit, “You’re the one who provides for us.”

Harry makes sure they’re making eye contact when he tells her, “What I do for this family is nothing compared to what you provide us.”

“I love you,” YN sighs, leaning over for another quick kiss and adds, “I know you feel guilty but please don’t. I knew what I was agreeing to when we had four kids.”

“Not the first time,” He chuckles, looking fondly back at Easton, who was now seven which was crazy, and thriving.

“Mm, he was just our favorite surprise. Wouldn’t change it for anything,” She replies with a warm smile, leaning over to kiss Briar’s cheek and she lets out the bubbliest giggle.

Martha steps over to them, arms outstretched, “Okay parents, time to share this little muffin with the rest of us.”

Harry slips Briar into the crook of her arm and she goes easily, lounging back and tucking her pacifier that was in her small fist this whole time back into her mouth.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Harry hums lowly now that all the babies were out of earshot, his hands coming to her hips.

YN scowls at him, stiff and frustrated when she grits out, “You don’t have to lie to me just because you’re my husband.”

Harry gets defensive instantly, “What would I be lyin’ about?”

“I know I don’t look hot. It’s my first time in a bikini since I had Briar. My stomach is still puffy, my love handles, not to mention my boobs from breastfeeding four kids,” She huffs like it’s obvious as she pinches at skin in her hip.

“Come on, now,” Harry says firmly to her, authority and demand in his voice which wasn’t common for him to take that tone with her, “Mum, you guys okay with watching them for a few?”

Anne waves them off and tells them to enjoy a few minutes alone, they have everything handled.

“Wha-“ YN begins to ask as Harry wraps his hand around her wrist and guides her back into the house, back into their room, and clicks the lock shut.

“Don’t you dare ever insult the body that gave us our four perfect, healthy babies. The body that I fell in love with and am still madly gone for,” Harry nearly hisses as he’s tugging the jersey off of her shoulders until it pools on the ground.

“Harry, I-“

“Just listen to me, would you?” He cuts her off as he kneels in front of her, lips moving over the silky smooth skin of her stomach.

“Love this belly,” Harry praises, kissing, licking, biting at the sensitive skin that has fully went back to normal, “Obsessed with it even. Everything about you gets me hard. I love how you look, I love that you have this, reminds me of what a strong woman you are.”

YN feels embarrassed that she’s getting emotional at his kind words, they were so sincere and reverent that there was no question he meant them.

“These love handles?” Harry scoffs as his large hands grip the extra plush of her hips, “Do you know how sexy it is? Love holding onto them when you ride me.”

His voice had gotten noticeably deeper and gravely with his arousal, standing up and moving to untie her top - letting her breasts falls from where they were held up to appear more perky.

“Don’t get me started on your tits,” He groans as he thumbs at her nipples, being carefully because they were sore from feeding Briar, “Fuckin’ beauties. I remember the first time I got to see ‘em. Swear that was more memorable than when I got drafted. You think I’m gonna complain that they got bigger? You’re crazy.”

YN giggles at that, especially when he gives her a cheeky smile and presses himself against her so he can kiss her again.

His hands go to the ties of her bottoms on each hip, playing with the string as he whispers, “Please let me take these off and ‘ave you. I’ve been starving for it, mama.”

“It’s been a week,” YN chuckles as she bumps there noses - already feeling better about herself, feel more empowered and sexy, “If you’re so hard up, maybe I should help you out.”

“It’s about you. You don’t have to if you don’t- fuckin’ hell, doll,” Harry moans when his damp athletic shorts and briefs are pulled down and YN is kneeling to lick at the bottom side of his hard length.

A thrill shoots about her spine for her husband’s reaction to her mouth, his hands weaving into her locks, and whimpering, “C’mon baby, take me. Can’t be teased right now or I’m gonna come so fast for you.”

“For me?” YN parrots with a mischievous smirk as she pumps him, he’s almost too big for her palm and she loved that.

“F’course, you’re the only thing that makes me come. Whether you’re right in front of me or if m’in my hotel room thinking about you,” Harry pants sweetly, still letting her make the calls when she doesn’t listen and continues to just lap at his dripping tip.

“Best husband,” YN praises him as her hands come up to roll his balls with her thumb, making his cock twitch in her hand.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Harry grunts after another minute or so, he’s leaning down and pulling her up before he’s picking her up and throwing her own the bed as she yelps in surprise, “Give me tha’ cunt.”

YN spreads her legs immediately and Harry is nearly ripping the bottoms off of her lower half before his face is buried between her thick thighs, sucking harshly at her clit as payback.

“Ba-baby,” YN whines in a kittenish tone, pushing her hips up into his mouth to ride his tone to chase her pleasure, “Wha-no!”

YN complains when he pulls back, crudely wiping his mouth on her belly before leaning down and cleaning up her slickness with his tongue.

“Shush up, we don’t have much time. We got four little buggers out there, s’only a matter of time before one of them causes trouble,” Harry quips as he wriggles her bum up off the bed and wrapping her legs around his waist so he can fuck in.

“There,” She moans quietly a few seconds in when he angles just so that his cock is hitting the spot that sets her afire and then he adds a thumb to her clit for extra stimulation.

“Yeah, I know,” He murmurs cockily, fingers dimpling the skin where he’s holding on to her upper thighs as he pushes his narrow hips into her center over and over again.

Harry nearly comes on the spot when YN redirects on of her hands to her throat, she doesn’t have to say anything before Harry’s gripping at the sides of her neck with his fingers.

“How could you think that you’re not perfect? You’re as hot as they come,” Harry tells her as her limbs loosen and she climaxes, he lets go of the pressure on her throat and follows suit.

“I love you,” YN hums when he collapses on top of her, “Welcome home. You played amazing in San Diego.”

“I love you more,” Harry replies as he smatters kisses along her cheeks, “Those guys were a buncha of ass-“

The both turn their heads when they hear echoing through the backyard a wail that was no doubt Cash because Easton wasn’t sharing a water toy.

“It was fun while it lasted,” YN snickers as they roll of the bed and begin to redress so that they can go back out and take over parenting duties.

-

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles smut #mlb!harry blurbs #mlb!verse #mlb!harry masterlist #mlb!harry #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #file #erodasfishtacos masterlist #fic recommendation #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles huband #husband!harry #dad harry styles #dad!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing request