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#round 2: fluff
midnight-pluto · 10 days
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ROUND 2: PROFILES — unreliable detectives
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ROUND 2: dazai osamu x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: When you decided to attend Chuya's volleyball game, you didn't expect to see a familiar face. A face of someone you thought you would've never see again; what's more annoying however, is seeing said face repeatedly.
round 2 master list
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DAZAI OSAMU : A senior attending ADA high with all AP classes, which no one knows how he managed to get into let alone pass. #1 PM high slanderer with the only context people have is that he used to attend there, but the group chat knows.
ABILITY : No Longer Human — this gives him the power to nullify the Ability of anyone he touches
EDOGAWA RANPO : Definitely a senior at ADA high that doesn't get mistaken as a sophomore, 100%; that also seems to be his average at all times. Claims to have an ability, but he isn't fooling anyone with that — not even himself, so everyone pretends he does.
ABILITY : none
NAKAJIMA ATUSHI : A junior on ADA high's soccer team. It has become a common joke that whenever he falls on the field he chronically shakes his ass. Before being adopted by Dazai and Kunikida, he was just a zoned out loner, so he's glad he has the ability to make memories with the friends he has.
ABILITY : Beast Beneath the Moonlight — this gives him the power to transform into a white tiger
KUNIKIDA DOPPO : An ADA senior on the boy's volleyball team, whose biggest rival is the PM volleyball team. He doesn't enjoy slander, but he makes an exception for when Dazai trashed the PM's volleyball team, then he goes all out.
ABILITY : The Matchless Poet — this lets him use the pages of his notebook to create items, but the size of the items cannot be larger than the notebook
YOSANO AKIKO : A senior attending ADA high, who has her own connections at PM high. Albeit they aren't as negative as the rest of the friend groups, she still has qualms with the institution.
ABILITY : Thou Shalt Not Die — this allows her to heal external injuries on the condition that they're half-dead
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STICKY NOTES
i did not mean to put this off for this long 😭
school life is kicking my ass since I have finals coming up soon 🤧
TAGLIST : @heeslovr @atlasnessie @cvidy [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]
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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) Additional Tags: Domestic Avengers, Avengers Family, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony's cabin is the new Avengers Tower, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Tony Stark Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Tony Stark got a new arm, Tony and Pepper were never married, Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Background Relationships, Mention of Loki/Bruce Banner, Mention of Steve Rogers/Thor, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Marshmallow Fluff, Breakfast, First Kiss, Flirting, Friends to Lovers Language: English Published: 2024-03-20 Words: 4,768 Chapters: 1/1
Summary: Bucky is still adjusting to living at Tony's cabin with the rest of the Avengers, and that includes being Uncle Bucky to the most adorable Stark child. Sometimes that includes consuming sugar bombs that make him glad of his super soldier constitution. In all of this are the feelings he's begun to have for Tony, but what does all of that flirting and cuddling during movie nights mean? Bucky's about to find out.
For Winteriron Bingo, Round 2 @winterironevents Square: B5 – Fluff
For @scottxlogan
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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months
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Fluffcember Day 2 | Perfectly imperfect
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Pairing Husband!Steve Rogers x Husband!Avenger!Bucky Barnes
Word count 1.4K
Summary Bucky has been stressed from his missions lately, so Steve surprises him with a romantic night at home. Just the two of them and a candle-lit dinner, a massage, and some soft music. That's all Bucky could ever want, and he's very thankful to have someone as sweet and caring as Steve as his husband.
Warning(s) Bucky is a stressed boy, Steve is the best husband.
A/n This is written for both Stucky Bingo Round 5 and Day 2 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this as always, it is appreciated 🎄
Events Masterlist | 2. ''You're perfect in my eyes'' | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | G3. Metal arm | @stuckybingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Dividers: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: the owner
Main Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist | Read on AO3
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The last few months have been increasingly more stressful for Bucky during and after missions because there has been an enormous rise in HYDRA bases and agents recruited to work at said bases.
Steve has also noticed this, so he treats his husband to a relaxing, romantic night at home. Just the two of them with a candlelit dinner, a massage, and some soft music. Nothing over the top, but pure perfection all the same.
He had just returned home from the store, where he bought the last things he needed to make tonight special. Everything is complete, from a few ingredients for the pasta to a peppermint-scented massage oil, a big bouquet, and a scented candle.
The flowers are just popped into a vase when Steve picks up on the door's lock, notifying him that Bucky is home, and he looks more stressed than ever. He picked out an excellent day to plan all this.
''Hi,'' Steve says softly as he greets Bucky, who just toed off his boots in the hallway. He's about to shrug off his jacket when Steve pulls him in for a hug, which Bucky happily melts into, but not without a deep sigh.
They hold each other tightly, and Bucky is not ready to let Steve go. Not that Steve minds, of course. He'll happily hold his husband for as long as necessary.
''What's for dinner today?'' Bucky asks as he pulls away from the embrace, a small smile now adorning his face. Being with Steve, his best friend and husband, is guaranteed to make him feel better.
''Your favorite. Decided to treat my perfect husband because he deserves it,'' Steve tells him, making Bucky blush. Even after all their time together, he finds it challenging to accept Steve's compliments.
'''M not perfect,'' Bucky tells him with a slight pout.
''You're perfect in my eyes,'' Steve answers without missing a beat, and he leans in to capture Bucky's lips in another kiss. It turns a tad more heated this time, but it doesn't last long.
Steve's attention is pulled back to the dinner he was preparing by the little kitchen timer going off, and he reluctantly pulled away from Bucky and jogged to the kitchen.
''How about this: you shower and get dressed into something more comfortable, and I'll finish dinner? After that, we'll have the entire evening to ourselves,'' he says, and Bucky happily agrees.
The pasta sauce is ready at the same time as Bucky is after his shower, and he's put on some tight black sweatpants and a dark blue henley, which shows off his muscles to perfection.
His hair is still damp from the shower, but Steve can tell he's feeling better without Bucky saying it. His cheeks have a healthy red tint, and his posture is much more relaxed. But this would only be the beginning of their evening.
''Looks good,'' Bucky says as he stands behind Steve, pressing his chest against his husband's back. His head was lying on his shoulder as he closed his eyes, needing to be close to him for now.
''You're not bad-looking yourself, either,'' Steve responds, with a slight chuckle.
''Yeah, that's my cue to set the table!'' Bucky quips back, and everything feels good. Between the joking and lingering touches to the soft kisses and exchanged glances, everything feels like it should.
The pasta is gone within no time, despite Steve making an extra large batch, but after that, the two of them are filled to the brim with food, so it's time to relax.
''Shall we move this party of two to the couch for a movie?'' Bucky offers, but Steve has a different plan. He didn't buy the new massage oil for nothing, after all.
Bucky has gotten up and is clearing the table, but Steve is crowding his space and pushing him against the counter when he gets up from filling the dishwasher.
Bucky's breath hitches slightly as he sees the grin on Steve's face, his husband's eyes flicking from his own down to his lips and back up.
''I had a different plan for this evening. And for that, we should move this party to the bedroom,'' he tells Bucky, who's so wholly and utterly flustered that all that falling past his lips is a soft moan.
Steve's lips attach to the sensitive spot in Bucky's neck, and his hands are gliding through his long, dark brown locks while Bucky is fisting the back of Steve's shirt tightly.
Steve trails a row of small, soft kisses to his ear before whispering something in it, leaving Bucky with goosebumps.
''I want you on the bed without your shirt on. I'll join you in a few minutes.''
With those words, Bucky is off to the bedroom; his shirt already pulled off in the hallway out of sheer anticipation. Steve can make him feel excellent, and he can't wait for what's coming. And he hopes it'll be him soon.
Steve takes his sweet time preparing the massage he has planned because he picks out a record to go into the record player in their bedroom before taking off his shirt and seeing if Bucky did what he asked.
It doesn't surprise him when he finds Bucky patiently waiting on the bed on his knees, his hair up in a half bun, and his hands folded in his lap.
''Good boy,'' Steve tells him as he walks into the room, and Bucky has done precisely as Steve asked. Bucky flushes under the praise he gets, still not used to it but reveling in it all the same.
''Before I go any further, I want to tell you what we're about to do so you can decide if you want to keep your arm on or if you want it off, okay?'' Steve asks as he puts the record in the player and lets it start, soft jazz music filling the air.
''Yes.''
''Alright, my sweet boy. Once I have explained everything and given you the go-ahead, I want you to lie on your stomach on the bed, and you can get as comfortable as you possibly can. When you're ready, I am going to give you a relaxing massage to loosen up the tense muscles in your back, and if you're an extra good boy, I'll even let you have some fun afterward,'' Steve tells him as he stands before Bucky, who's focused on every word his husband tells him.
''Am I clear?'' Steve asks, needing to hear him physically say it.
''Yes. For the massage, I'd like to take my arm off, but after, I'd like to put it back on if that's okay,'' Bucky says softly, and Steve nods.
''Of course,'' he tells him before leaning in and cupping Bucky's cheek, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. He tilts his head slightly to kiss his lips softly before letting Bucky know he can lie down.
The arm is quickly removed and put away carefully to avoid damage. Bucky always feels odd without his arm, but taking a break from wearing it is nice because it always throws off his center of gravity when it's attached.
''Are you comfortable?'' Steve asks, and when Bucky lets out a content hum, Steve grabs the peppermint massage oil and drips some on Bucky's back before spreading it around.
As he massages Bucky's back from top to bottom with thorough strokes, he tells him everything he likes about him and the fondest memories they have made together.
During the massage, he pays special attention to the shoulder with the prosthetic because that always bothers him a lot. Despite the initial pain, Bucky gets through it because he knows it'll be worth it in the end, as he will feel much better.
''I love you so much, you know that? More than I'll ever be able to explain,'' Steve says as he trails a few kisses from Bucky's neck down his spine and back up again before planting a big one on his cheek.
''You've been such a good boy for me; I think you deserve your reward now,'' Steve says, but Bucky lets out a content hum.
''Is okay, just want to cuddle,'' he says, and Steve would be stupid to say no. The music still plays in the background as he lays on the bed, pulling Bucky into his side.
He's lying on Steve's right side, so his arm will be over Steve's chest, and Steve plays with Bucky's hair as they both fall asleep like that. In each other's embraces, with not a single care in the world right now.
Bucky couldn't possibly be more thankful to be married to his best friend than he is now.
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safyresky · 8 months
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Always
Summary: During their stay with the Amazons, Dite asks Jacqueline an (admittedly loaded) question. Or: The day Jacqueline fell very very hard for Dite and had 0 idea for a solid 300 years.
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"Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?" Jacqueline blinked once, very slowly, before coming back down to earth. "Oh! Yeah, absolutely. What's up?"
Dite bit her lip, pulling her braid forward and petting it. She frowned, her wings fluttering anxiously. "So like, it's a bit of a weird question. Maybe. Um, I think maybe you may not want to answer it? I think it's crossing a few boundaries but like. These past few months with you have been really, really fun!"
Jacqueline laughed. "I like that your idea of fun involves a whole lot of violence."
"We're learning ancient fighting techniques from the Amazons themselves! It's GREAT knowledge to have and absolutely EYE OPENING and we are rocking these outfits!"
"I like the detail in the chest plates," Jacqueline said, poking hers. There were swirls and ferns all over it, snowflakes twirling about at the edges of the details. "And there's some cool tricks we're learning too!"
"YEAH! It's FUN!" Dite said, hands up in the air, wings mirroring her.
Jacqueline laughed, loudly and from the heart. Her eyes lit up; the wind gently blew her loose hairs back, the thawed tresses lifting in the breeze.
"I've seen this whole different side of you," Dite sighed, looking up fondly and stretching out her legs. The waves crashed on the shore, the surf almost hitting their feet. "It's so…free! And full of joy! I never knew you were this…happy?"
"You said that like it was a question."
"It’s not the word I wanted. It's just…whenever we’ve met at work, when you got back from um. Your…"
"Recovery?"
"Is that what it was?"
Jacqueline looked thoughtful for a moment, shrugging. "You could say that, yeah. That and being like, way too small to go to important meetings like that on my own."
"You’re still small."
Snow hit her leg; she laughed, grabbing what she could before it melted and plopping it right on the sprite's head.
The sprite laughed, grinning up at the goddess beside her. A big, toothy grin that stretched from ear to ear. She lifted her hand, a pile of snow appearing in her palm, and plopped it on top of her head.
"Plop!" she said, still wearing that goofy  grin.
Dite laughed. "Is that even comfortable?"
"Is for me! Cold doesn't bug me at all," she said with a warm smile, the snow already melting down her back.
"You’re so silly. And goofy! I like that a lot! I like that I got to meet this side of you. You’re always so…reserved during summits, and during our legate meetings, you’re not as reserved but you’re still a little. Y'know. Cautious, I guess. But here, as we've been hanging out and learning and vacationing sort of, it's this whole new you I've met! But like, it's not a new you. I think it actually is you and you’re very careful to guard your you. What I'm trying to say is, I think you're the most fun person I have ever met and I cannot express enough how much it means to me that you shared yourself with me!"
Jacqueline blinked, feeling her face getting very hot as she flushed. AGAIN. What was it about this girl that made her get all blushy and uncomfortably warm? She felt like she was gonna burst into flames.
"Oh, I've flustered you again, haven't I? I'm sorry."
"It’s okay! I'm not very…I don’t really…um. I don’t have a lot of friends? Most of them have died because, y'know, humans and stuff," she scratched the back of her neck, frowning thoughtfully. "I think that takes a toll after a while, you know? And it gets easier, but also…it doesn't. And I'm not. I don't. It's. Hmm. I don’t have a bad rep, but I'm kinda stuck under a not so great one and a lot of magibeans tend to uh, assume the worst. But you…you don't! You didn't. There's only been one other person in my life who's done that, and it still kinda throws me off every so often."
"Oh?" Dite asked, trying to ignore the little itty bitty pang of jealousy that suddenly turned up. "Who's that?"
"Bernard? Santa's arch elf?"
"Oh! He's nice! I like him," she said with a fond smile. "You're friends?"
"I think so! I'd say we hang out a lot but like, mostly I go bother him when I'm feeling down or something crazy happens that I'm too afraid to tell my parents about," she said, pulling her legs up and hugging them. "He's always been very sweet and nice with me, and lately he's been snarky and I'm kind of liking it, actually! It's different! More fun."
Dite was relieved to feel it wasn't in a like-like way (pros to being Cupid's Legate and also daughter, she suspected). "Banter's fun."
"It kind of is!"
In the distance, the clatter of swords on shields rang out. The waves kept crashing, seagulls squawking high above them.
"Why are you alone?" she asked, pulling up her own legs.
"What do you mean?"
Dite let out a puff of air, her breath blowing a stray hair off her face. "They didn't tell us what happened. Just that something had happened, and we wouldn't be seeing you for a bit. Then you came back from your recovery, and you were alone. Forgive me if I'm crossing boundaries; I don’t mean to. And maybe I'm way off base with where we're at, and I shouldn't ask at all! But I'm gonna. The question I wanted to ask you was about all…that. What happened?"
Somehow, the sprite managed to make herself even tinier. She hugged her legs tighter, burrowing her nose between her knees. She looked so sad; so hurt.
Dite immediately felt a pang of regret.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked! I didn’t mean to ruin the mood."
"Oh, it's okay," Jacqueline replied. "You didn't bring down the mood." She shifted her head, forehead still on her arms, but eyes looking right into Dite's now. "My brother left."
"Oh," Dite said.
"Yeah. From what I've been told, it was probably a long time coming. Nobody thought it'd be as…explosive as it was, though. He got into a big fight with our Dad, and our Mom had to separate them. Elements went flying. Stuff was freezing. He whipped up this MAHOOSIVE storm," she leaned back, throwing her arms to the sides, palms out. "It tanked all of Crystal Springs for like, a week. Transportation was out all around."
"That must've been scary."
"I imagine it was. You see, um. I was a little bit unconscious. A lot maybe."
"Oh?"
"If you hear about what happened the day he left, everyone will tell you about the big old storm. It was bad! Ice storms are the nastiest. They freeze everything all while causing whiteout conditions. You can't see or go anywhere and the wind makes drifts and it's sucky conditions all around."
"Even for someone like you?"
"Actually they're kinda fun for someone like me. But this one wasn't. They talk about the storm all the time; and there were a couple of casualties. They were all healed, of course," she added quickly, sticking out a hand as if to reassure.
"Of course. The Springs."
Her fingers curled in; she brought her hand right back to her side. "Right. Yes. The Springs. Healed them. Once they were accessible, of course. And most everyone was able to handle their injuries until then."
"Nobody died."
"Somebody almost did."
"Who?"
Jacqueline looked over at Dite, a tinge of fear in her eyes.
"You?!"
She nodded.
"Oh no," Dite said, breathlessly. She put her hand up to her mouth, eyes wide and watery.
"Are you crying?"
"Not yet," she blubbered. "What happened? Are you okay?  You almost died?!"
"Not yet," she repeated with a laugh, pulling her hair forward. She reached up, her fingers gently making their way through the braid and taking it apart. It was already falling; her hair did not like staying back. "I got caught in the crossfire."
"You went after him?"
She nodded. "I was small, you know? I had no idea what was going on but I knew that sometimes he'd do bad things. And it seemed like this was one of those times. It got really loud downstairs and he was late for our snow date so I went to see what was happening and found the downstairs hall an absolute ice rink, and Mom and Dad in the kitchen, hurt. Not moving. Awake! Talking, but stuck. My brother left. I followed him out. Words were said, and he hurt me."
"Not with words."
"No. I mean they hurt too, of course. But no." She sighed, her hand absentmindedly drifting to her midsection. "They've taught us about all sorts of weaponry here. Your bracelet is so full of charms now," she pointed to it, Dite lifting her wrist. The charms clinked together. "But they haven't taught us about one of the most dangerous weapons. Ice. I can shape it into anything," she said, a glowing palm coming up.
In it, a solid cube appeared. "I can make it round. Square. Soft. Hard..." As she spoke, the ice in her palm shifted, matching the shapes she was listing, and then the textures. "Sharp."
In her hand, the ice shifted; it poked outwards, growing sharp. "And if it's sharp enough, and thrown with enough force, well…"
Lifting her arm the way they had been taught with the javelins just last week, she launched the icicle. It hit the ground with a sharp shtick, sticking itself deep into the sand. It twanged, briefly shuddering before stilling and beginning to melt.
"He stabbed you."
"Three times."
"Oh god."
"I know. One minute I was looking up at him, telling him not to go, not to leave me. The next, a glow; then something sharp, and then everything went black. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the Springs, looking into my mom's eyes. I've never heard her sob the way she did when I woke up. I've also never been squished as hard as I was by her after that."
Dite giggled. Her eyes widened. "Oh! I'm so sorry I should not have laughed--"
"It’s okay. I like your laugh. And it is kind of funny. The squishy bit, not the stabby bit."
"No, that's not funny at all!"
"I've got some sick scars now," she said. "You've seen them, I'm sure."
"I had noticed them, yeah. Gosh, I'm so sorry, Jacqueline. That's…a lot. And you were so small!"
"Apparently I still am," she joked, a thumb idly flicking away the wet under her eyes.
"You may be tiny but you are so, so tall to me. I mean, to go through all that, and do everything you've done to get here to this point? To survive? That's amazing."
"You think?"
"I know."
The lapsed into silence again. Dite's right wing hovered above Jacqueline, the goddess thoughtful.
"Do you miss him?"
Jacqueline stilled.
Dite glanced her way, concerned she had maybe turned herself to ice. But she hadn’t! She had just stopped idly swaying. Tears filled her eyes, trailing down her cheeks.
"So much," she admitted, the rest of the words smothered under a sob that clawed its way up her throat.
Dite's wing fell, encompassing the sprite and pulling her close. She shuffled in the sand, moving closer to Jacqueline and throwing her arms around her, bringing her in tightly. She did what her Mom did whenever Dite felt down; rubbed her back gently. Kept her wings around them. Murmured nice things in her ear like there there, let it all out. That's it. You'll feel better after a good cry, and so on.
The sprite uncurled, burying herself in Dite's chest plate. Droplets of wet began to appear in the sand around them, the poor thing shaking with how hard she was crying.
She didn't know how long they sat there. How long she held her little buddy. A silly little name that Jacqueline had laughed at, but now, Dite was thinking, maybe wasn't really...accurate? Appropriate? Whatever the word, it didn't feel right anymore.
The sun began to set, the glow of dusk reflecting in the sea. At some point as the sun went down, Jacqueline's shudders slowed, until finally she lifted her head off the chest plate. She sniffled, curling up against Dite's side until she could rest her head on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry. That was embarrassing. I didn't think I'd…gah! I'm sorry!"
"Don’t be! I asked. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I should've been a bit more tactful, maybe. I didn’t realize how traumatic…"
"Nobody does. Nobody ever asked. And nobody's really explained things to me, either."
"Is that why the wall?"
She nodded against her arm. "It's easier to interact with other magibeans if I keep myself on my toes. Easier to not get hurt if I shrug it off and carry on."
"Armour."
"Yeah. Speaking of…sorry about yours. It’s covered in Jacqueline gobber. I can buff it out."
Dite laughed. "It’s okay! Really," she said, squishing the sprite's shoulders in a very feathery side hug. "Thank you for telling me. I know you said you have Bernard, but if you ever want a change of pace, you can come to me, if you'd like."
"…would I get hugs like this?"
"Oh my gods absoLUTELY! I love hugs! And you seem like you need them."
Jacqueline snorted, snot going flying. "Oh, that was gross! Ew! Sorry!"
Dite laughed. "Snots happen."
"Thank you for asking," Jacqueline said, adjusting herself to sit more comfortably alongside Dite.
"Thank you for telling."
"Thank you for listening."
"Always."
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thatmexisaurusrex · 2 years
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Five Times Bucky Set Sam Up on a Date and the One Time Sam Set Bucky Up
Oh my gosh, I didn't think I'd get this in on time, but I have blacked out my @samwilsonbingo Round 2 card! 😆 Also, while this is ultimately a SamBuckyQuin fic, there are other pairings in there. Here's a goofily sweet 5+1 fic for the fills: "Ayo", "M'Baku", "Joaquín Torres", and "Musical Theater". Enjoy! 🥰
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Five Times Bucky Set Sam Up on a Date and the One Time Sam Set Bucky Up
| Pairing: SamBuckyQuin | Rating: M | Chapters: 6/6 | WC: 5.6 |
Summary: Bucky Barnes keeps trying to matchmake Sam with people he thinks would be perfect for Sam.
Excerpt:
Sam could see him. Scruffy, mismatched hoodies and all. He could see the man who shaped the 20th century with his assassinations, the war hero turned cyborg, the man on the run himself, Bucky Barnes. Peeking out from behind a corner like a child playing hide and seek. Snickering to himself like he just pulled off the greatest heist ever known to man. And Sam didn’t know what to think of that at first. Sam thought this would be like all the rendezvous he’d had with the infamous Winter Soldier this past year. He thought it’d be them meeting silently in a public place. Wandering into a crowd as they whispered about their week, their month; talked about Sam’s insecurities and fears; taped together whatever spotty memory Bucky had. Sam thought it’d be sitting down at a café reading books together or feeding pigeons in Central Park. Yet here he was, unsure as to whether he should acknowledge Bucky as Misty Knight of all people appeared before Sam, waving like she had been waiting for Sam all this time. Not that Sam was mad to see her there.
READ THE REST ON AO3!
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bingoboingobongo · 1 year
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ghost putting a broken carrot on a snowman will always have a place in my heart
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siriuslythatbitch · 2 years
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Two Funerals and a Wedding (Probably)
Four years ago Sirius lost everything he cared about, and gained something he definitely never asked for. Since then he's kept to himself. All of that changes when he meets Remus Lupin. What happens when the ghosts of his past won't let him shy away from the future?
Written with @polyjuicedpadfoot for the @mixed-up-writer-fest round two!
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steddieasitgoes · 2 years
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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Background & Cameo Characters, Joyce Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Humor, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Disaster Steve Harrington, Idiots in Love, Post-Stranger Things Season 4, Vecna is dead, Volume 2 isn't out yet so this is canon divergent, we are manifesting everyone lives, First Kiss, Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Brief Mentions Of A Car Crash, Slow Burn, aka they don't kiss until like 20K words in, But Steve's feelings are not slow burn they're moving fast, implied Lucas/Max, Implied Mike/El, canon complacent until ep7, Eddie has a sad backstory im sorry, Sharing a Bed, Locked in an office, this was supposed to be a oneshot and it spiral way out of control, uh, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, No beta we die like Barb, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Tension Summary:
Vecna is dead. Or so Steve thinks until Dustin is screaming "Code Red" through a radio. Steve runs out of the house with conditioner still in his hair to save the day only to learn the "code red" is that Eddie Munson is being a little shit and doesn't want to go to his graduation ceremony tomorrow. Steve's going to kill them both.
Or:
Steve convinces Eddie to go to graduation and ends up regretting the decision when Eddie shows up looking better than ever, sending Steve into a major sexuality crisis. And more fun ensues!
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midnight-pluto · 29 days
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ROUND 2 : assembly
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ROUND 2: dazai osamu x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: When you decided to attend Chuya's volleyball game, you didn't expect to see a familiar face. A face of someone you thought you would've never seen again; what's more annoying however, is seeing said face repeatedly.
⚠️ THE DATES AND TIME DONT MATTER ⚠️
round 2 master list
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STICKY NOTES
these were made and placed in no particular order
this is an ex-friends to lovers smau
shit might get sappy later on but u didn’t hear that from me :P
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112 notes · View notes
pearlywritings · 1 year
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
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synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.
pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters are whipped for their wives
word count: 5.4k+ words
a/n: part 2 can be read here!
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Alhaitham 
Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that's the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that's what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it'll get better. And it did.
Hard to believe, but the Akademiya's Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn't make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.
The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.
He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.
Today is one of those days when you find yourself in the House of Daena with a home-cooked lunch neatly wrapped and warm in your hands. A couple of librarians greet you on the way, knowing perfectly well who you are, and you smile at them. One older woman, who’s always been fond of your character, informs you that Alhaitham hasn’t left the Grand Sage’s office since the moment he arrived, and you thank her for going out of her way to reassure you that you will not need to search for him.
There’s another exchange of greetings at the bottom of an elevator and just seconds later you start ascending to the above of the huge library. The quiet whirling of mechanisms is calming and you hum softly to yourself, imagining that tender look in those light turquoise eyes, a rare shine in orange-ringed yellow pupils and a slight pull of thin lips upon seeing your figure and catching a whiff of food you brought. A content sigh escapes your chest and you prepare to soon step off the huge round platform.
But instead of catching a glimpse of your husband, you are met with sharp black eyes, staring at you and a scowl present on the face of a person you don't believe you've seen before, at least not long enough to remember. You blink in surprise, eyes darting to look at the man from head to toe - he is wearing the Akademiya’s robes, but there is no indicator to which Darshan he belongs to. A Matra perhaps? But you are used to seeing a completely different face of a scholar Alhaitham appointed as his secretary for the period of time he’d fulfill the role of an Acting Grand Sage. Panah has soft brown eyes, always nodding to you in a greeting and leaving upon your arrival if it is lunch time and his boss doesn’t instruct him to stay and carry on with his job, not minding you two.
This one practically glares at you, arms crossed and posture intimidating. You simply tilt your head in question, waiting for him to say something.
“Who allowed you to enter?”
The tone of his voice is pretty rude, and the gruff voice doesn't add grace to it. You are not one to judge someone by their looks - your husband is the proof of that, so you decide to brush it off and simply answer.
"Shohre of course, as usual."
“...as usual?” His brows furrow, and you get even more confused with the question. Is your husband having some kind of an impromptu inspection? He didn’t tell you anything about it in the morning, and since the Akasha got turned off, there is no simple way to warn you of it. 
"Is Alhaitham holding any meeting, perhaps?" You try, knowing it's absurd since he doesn't love his sweet lunch time being interrupted, but right now it's hard to find an explanation for this hostile-acting man's actions.
"You have so little respect for the Acting Great Sage?"
This time the booming edge in his words makes an echo in a pretty vast space and almost makes you flinch. The situation is escalating pretty quickly.
"Sir, I don't know who you are, but I do not believe I ever deserved such treatment from you. Would you be so kind to explain what's going on or at least let me see the Acting Great Sage-"
That must've sounded kind of sarcastic, because the man looks like he is ready to fume akin to a kettle.
"Who even are you!? Who do you think you are? Demanding a meeting like that - you must know his schedule is packed, so don't you assume that your pretty face would get you through-"
"Jahan, what is going on?" The "Jahan" shuts instantly upon hearing a deep, dripping with authority voice behind him. Your face instantly brightens when you spot the tall man approaching you two with his arms crossed and the most nonchalant expression etched in his features.
“We have an intruder, Sir.”
What in the Archon’s name- This is becoming ridiculous.
"An intruder?" He lifts his brow and glances at you, gaze lingering just for a few seconds longer. Then it returns to his subordinate. "I don't see one here."
"This woman," you move just in time not to have his index finger directly point you right in your face, "came here without prior appointment, not stating her purpose, not even stating her name!"
"Is that so?" You almost snort at how little Alhaitham cares for what this man has for an explanation, instead moving directly to you and taking a heavy lunch boxes from your hands, allowing your shoulders and arms to drop in relief.
“Her name is of no matter. All you need to know is that she is my wife.”
The room falls silent. The man stares at his boss with eyes so wide, you worry they’d pop out of his sockets. Your husband though doesn’t show any reaction to the stunned look on the man’s face, balancing all the containers in one hand, offering you the other, which you take with a smile.
"S-she what?"
"My wife. And she, along with the necessary descriptions, is literally the only person on the list of the people who are free to come and leave whenever. On the list Panah passed to you along with other instructions before taking his sick leave. Did you even skip through those?"
The tone of your husband is cold with a mocking edge, rubbing his subordinate’s incompetence in his face, and you don't need to look at the man to sense his panic.
"I-I, no of course I thoroughly looked through every single one, but I do not remember such paper, it must've been lost along the process-"
"It doesn't matter. Now you are aware. But there is one more thing you need to learn about my wife visiting."
"Yes, Sir?"
"You leave the moment she enters."
There is a momentary pause (you know Alhaitham is rolling his eyes inwardly at how slowly the notion seems to reach him), before Jahan snaps out of his stupor, slightly bows, mumbling something and quickly walks off to the elevator.
Not even waiting for the mechanism to start, your husband tugs on your hand and you take the hint, following him to the sofas and a table.
"What an imbecile," is murmured in annoyance and you finally chuckle, covering your mouth with a hand.
Your husband is truly something, but one thing is absolutely certain - his wife is the only person that really worths his nerves and time.
Ayato
Kamisato Ayato is a character of many admirable traits and worth-mentioning accomplishments, a great leader, an amazing big brother, a boss held in high regard, and a loving husband of three years to you. This last, but not the least, is Commissioner's favorite, and he makes sure to show it every opportunity present in his individual mischievous way.
You know he gets away with a lot of things, and for numerous reasons, ranging from being the head of the Yashiro Commission, to him being pretty unknown by face among the commoners due to Ayaka handling all the public affairs. This one in particular is harmless, but there is that little thing which drives you up the wall - he does it only when you are present, leaving you very flustered and with a fast beating heart.
"My name? Oh, I am a husband. This gorgeous woman's husband."
"Lord Kamisato? No need to be so formal with me, just call me her husband."
"'Kamisato Ayato' and all my titles are so long to write down, can't I sign it with 'Y/n's hubby' instead?"
"Kamisato Y/n's husband. That's who I am."
"Ayaka, have you forgotten? No more calling me 'big brother', only 'Y/n's husband- Stop laughing, I am serious!"
The last one is literally happening right before your eyes, with the younger sibling hiding her smile and suppressing her giggles behind her intricately decorated fan, as the older one has taken his glove off, wiggling his fingers to show the glistening golden band wrapped around one of them. You, on the other hand, are trying to cover your heated face with a stack of papers you picked when Ayaka entered the office and addressed her big brother as, well, big brother. Peeking above the filled with reports sheets you catch a sly smile playing on Ayato's lips, while his usually piercing eyes reflect the special kind of adoration he holds for you.
You know why he is doing this - the man fought hard for your heart and then hand in marriage, and since it is now a reality, he absolutely keens on that "I am your husband" notion. Sometimes it's a perfect ice breaker in introducing you two to new people, sometimes it's a reason for an eye roll (yours as well), at times it puts people in stupor which Ayato uses to his advantage, but there is always only one initial thought behind every single one of them - showing the world he is proud to be your partner with a label "husband" on it.
And this sentiment is fully returned! However you never had an opportunity to do the same - he always beats you to it, and leaves bashful long enough for the moment to become wasted. You know you can always talk it through with him and he’d be more than happy to give you a chance, but, after all these times he left you speechless, it’s simply a matter of pride to pay him back. Besides… You really-really want to see his reaction if you told someone important those words. 
That you are his wife.
You hear a soft knock on the living room’s door where you and Ayato are sitting next to each other at one side of the low table.
“Lord and Lady Kamisato, the guests have arrived.”
“Wonderful, please let them in.”
The man notices your elation upon hearing those words and smiles to himself - your friends from another nation, whom you haven’t seen properly in ages, finally managed to reach the coasts of Inazuma and seek a meeting to reconnect with you and also meet your mysterious husband you’ve written and praised so much in your letters.
The scene is heartwarming. Two girls around your age are tightly hugging you with excited squeals while the man that came in together with them, patiently waits to be introduced. Ayato follows his example, watching your grinning face, filing away every single detail about it - the sparkles in your eyes, the rosiness of your cheeks, that adorable wrinkling of your nose when the girls say something cheesy, and the pure happiness written all over your visage.
“Oh, Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again after so long! So much happened…”
“Yes! We totally should discuss every single event! But I offer to start by introducing us and our husbands.”
“One of you got married?” You ask surprised. “I know that only one of you got recently engaged-”
“Me! But the wedding is so soon, that I already call him my husband, hehe. Oh, we brought the wedding invitation for you and your husband as well, I hope you two will make it!”
“Girls, girls, let’s calm down,” you laugh, pausing them and gesturing to the two men silently observing you - both pairs of eyes shining with admiration. “Ayato, my dear, I want you to meet my friends I’ve told you so much about…”
Your husband hears familiar names, ones he’s remembered long ago, and nods in recognition, offering each a kiss on the back of their hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet people my beloved holds in high regard.”
“Likewise,” they giggle, giving you teasing looks about how gentlemanly your spouse is, and you roll your eyes, but a smile tugging on your lips doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And I’ll take an opportunity to introduce our companion,” one of the women says, stepping closer to her fiance and offering everyone his name and a slight description of his field of work, to which Ayato hums with interest.
“And these,” your other friend gestures to you and your husband, “are Kamisato Ayato and-”
“Wife.”
Everyone falls silent and looks at you with confusion. You yourself are stunned, eyes slightly widened and heart skipping a beat. The word really just flew out of your mouth faster when you could think about it.
“Excuse me?” Your friend gapes at you, and suddenly it clicks. This spontaneous reaction, caused by your unspoken desire, presents you with a perfect opportunity. You finally can get “revenge” on your husband.
“That’s what I said, sweety,” with a smirk and boosting confidence you glance at Ayato and meet his lilac eyes, staring at you with a hint of amusement. “I am this marvelous man’s wife. You know, 'Kamisato Y/n' is way too long to pronounce. So, maybe just a wife instead?”
The silence reigns again, with the three of your guests clearly being in stupor and your husband observing you with an unreadable expression. But suddenly he laughs. Joyfully and sincerely, it plucks on the strings of your crazily beating heart. Instantly there are arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your temple, and you can feel the smile he hides in your hair.
“Yes, that’s right… This remarkable woman is my wife. Most incredible and lovely wife.”
Turning your head slightly you manage to catch a soft blush dusting his porcelain skin, before he faces away from you. Oh Archons, he loves it and he is bashful!
As you fully turn in his embrace and start teasing him, loud enough for only the man to hear (you are not that cruel to embarrass him in front of people), your guests' existence is forgotten for a moment. Both girls sigh and look at the completely lost man, whose hand his future wife takes and rubs a thumb over his knuckles.
“Ah… Please, don’t mind that. She always had a strange sense of humor, and it seems that her husband only enabled it.”
That is true, but you look genuinely happy, so they can bear a week of occasional cringing.
Diluc
The annual harvest celebration has been a tradition in the Ragnvindr family for as long as the Dawn Winery existed. When Master Crepus was alive, it was hosted in the grand mansion with spacious halls and intricately decorated staircases, the one Diluc used to call his home. Guests would gather, wine bars would be uncorked and red liquid fill dozens of glasses, as he and Kaeya would curiously watch the adults interact, sneaking out of their rooms to spy from the hiding spots they knew so well.
But not anymore. Gone were the days of careless happiness he calls the past now, gone his father, gone the mansion, and gone his desire for active social interaction. It's been some years since his return and the sale of the mansion in attempts to run away from said past. The celebration came to a stop for as long as he was gone and then while he tended to re-establishing the business after arrival.
The Dawn Winery, despite all the maids and winemakers, would become so quiet. And it's not like he stayed there for long too - he was always somewhere, preoccupied by something.
That is until his life was shaken and turned upside down, and all by the hands of one single person. The person, who brought light back to his dark crimson eyes, who made him stop and think about how he can not just exist, but live, and happily so, waiting for every opportunity possible to be in the loving presence; the person who brought out that part of him he buried deep down in his graveyard of a soul, and gave it freedom to be again. The home actually started feeling like one, not a building he had a study and a bedroom in, but a place he could share with another, basking in the long-forgotten sensations, having his heart dance jigs and face soften in a tender gaze.
Many changes occurred, and, with some encouragement, he decided to bring back the tradition his father held in high regard, with only his sons' birthdays being more important to the late wine master.
The Winery is not as big as the family mansion used to be, but it is still enough space, with some of the furniture moved and the floor cleared, it can host many people. Besides, there is always a lovely outside with benches, and tables, and chairs, and it seems that Barbatos is kind to you, sending delightful weather as his gift.
Diluc is not a fan of social gatherings, however, he couldn't help but feel giddy when Adelinde exclaimed in elation at the prospect, be rather content when he saw happy smiles of the citizens - it's been a while since any proper celebration, and the monster rampage last month has been keeping everyone in a gloomy mood, and most importantly - he couldn't betray the trust and confidence his wife put into him.
…right. His wife. The ending to his reputation of the most eligible bachelor (not like he ever cared for the title), and the talk of the town for the past couple of weeks. Diluc Ragnvindr is a rather private man, and upon mutual agreement the wedding was private as well, with only few attending, and those few knew how to keep their mouths shut till the right time came. Or not, since one Cavalry Captain loves getting on the redhead's nerves and spilling some beans to the people who are willing to listen, and then not saying another word to create an intrigue.
So yes, this celebration is also a way to finally introduce the owner of the Dawn Winery's wife to the public, and put an end to all the speculations and maybe seal some lips that spew hatred towards the 'lucky woman', and there are a number of those.
You haven't been taking your eyes off the small group of nobles, standing almost in the middle of the first floor hall, loudly discussing the matter, inevitably drawing the attention of the ones not involved in the conversation, but standing rather close to them.
"I am telling you, she must be some dirty little thing, seducing our poor Master Diluc," the raven-haired tall man claims, elegantly holding a glass of dandelion wine in his long fingers. With his white and black clothes he reminds you of a dalmatian. Barking is almost identical too.
"You are right! She must be some commoner, too ashamed to show her face. If she was of a noble origin, the wedding would be grand and public," ah, and this bear-like looking man… you remember him - he was very active in trying to arrange a marriage of a very uninterested Diluc and his 17-year old daughter. You almost grimace at the thought.
"Oh yes! And we all know, that such well-known and ancient family as Ragnvindrs ought to have one of the noble daughters getting married into it," it is the first time you see this dramatically dressed woman, but even so you would've doubled in boisterous laughter if not the pretty dress Adelinde helped you lace an hour ago, that could potentially be ruined with the drink in your own glass.
You will yourself to tune them off for a moment and check on other guests. It quickly becomes clear that this conversation makes them uncomfortable. Some manage to entertain you though, by making fun of those nobles, parodying the pompous manner of their talking and snickering at that. 
Nevertheless, one shall put an end to this idiocy.
"Afternoon, good sirs and ma'ams," the group direct their gazes at you, approaching them with a polite smile and a glass absent from your hand. "I've caught pieces of your conversation earlier, and couldn't help, but feel concerned."
The derogatory gaze the woman throws your way doesn't go unnoticed, but you simply choose to ignore it.
"Is that so?" The 'Dalmatian' hums, as if condescendingly. "Are you worried about Master Diluc as well, young lady? Such compassion is admirable."
"Oh, I hardly worry about Diluc," some eyes widen at your lack of his title acknowledgement, but you once again ignore it. "I am concerned about you. You know it's bad manners to berate a person in their own house? I'd really advise you to stop talking, especially about the matter you seem to know nothing about. Not to make bigger fools of yourselves at least."
"How dare you-" the woman you haven't heard talking before, but saw her nodding a lot, with those huge feathers in her hair waving with each tilt of her head, starts gasping because of your 'insult'. "How dare you speak to us like that! A servant must stay silent until asked to open their mouth!"
"I am not a servant here, nor anywhere else," the assumption doesn't surprise you, since all the maids were allowed to wear pretty outfits even while doing their job - after all it was a celebration honoring them as well, they help the Winery keep running.
"When who in the Archon's name are you-?"
"Y/n Ragnvindr," a deep soothing voice rings behind you, so loud and clear, that it immediately shuts all the sounds in the room. 
Your lips curl in a wider smile, all the while holding the bewildered gaze of the woman who decided to pick a fight with you.
"Yes, dear?" His chest is now against your back and a hand, clad in a white glove, reaches for yours. "Are you done with welcoming our partners from Liyue?"
"Of course," the back of your hand is brought to his lips to leave a chaste kiss there, and only then you turn your head and catch a dangerous glint in those blood-colored eyes. He is pissed, but neutral face hardly betrays him. "I see we have a problem here."
"Mhm," you hum, not letting go of his hand and looking back at the tensed individuals, who were bad-mouthing you just minutes ago. "It surely isn't how we planned to reveal our marriage, but the situation called for it, I suppose."
"L-lady Ragnvindr, we didn't know-"
"Can these people be escorted out?" Your question interrupts her harshly, making her flinch. "They disturb other guests, and clearly do not know basic rules of respect."
"My dear wife," you can practically feel menace radiating off of his body, and voice dripping with smugness, "no need to ask me. That's your house as much as it's mine, and you contributed so much into organizing this event. So don't be shy to make your own decision."
"Well then," your smile gets even sweeter, contrary to your eyes that burn holes in their distasteful figures, "Get out."
Kaeya
"Hey pretty tits, hic! Argh, you come here often?"
You wouldn't think that a question like this was addressed to you, if the heavily smelling of alcohol man wasn't occupying the bar stool to your right, leaning forward in your direction. You slightly turn your head and suspiciously watch the swinging glass in his trembling hand, half full and threatening to spill the dark liquid. He really had too much tonight.
"...was that supposed to be a compliment?" 
Leaning back to avoid any unfortunate outcome, you give him an unamused look, finished with an arched brow. From the corner of your eye you can't help but notice Charles staring at the man. It is nice to know your good acquaintance doesn't ignore the possible trouble a drunkard can cause another customer.
But you can handle it.
"It was!" He exclaims so happily, childishly proud that you acknowledged the fact. Should you tell him he sucks at it? And that there is only one man whose drunk flirty compliments you'll ever accept, and even in a state like that he would manage to be good, putting a smile on your face? Right now though, the urge to grimace is stronger.
"...thanks," I suppose?. "And yes, I come here often to spend the evening with my partner."
At that his face visibly falls and you turn away, assuming it is enough to cut the conversation short, and concentrate on savoring your first drink of the evening. You ordered it while waiting for one particular Cavalry Captain, and even though it's not strange for him to come later due to astronomically fast piling up paperwork, today he seems to be particularly busy. Maybe you should purchase a bottle and come to his quarters?
Just before you could do just that, there is a hand sliding over your right hip and a hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. You don't even flinch or freeze, recognizing the alluring presence immediately and leaning back into the firmness of his chest.
"You are late, Kaeya."
A soft chuckle and a kiss to the temple make it pretty clear that the azure-haired man cracked your fake rebuke on the spot, knowing that you are not one bit angry at him, but actually really happy to finally have him here.
"I apologize, princess," another kiss, this time to your cheek, "work's been a bit tough. But I am glad to finally be here with my woman."
"Youuurr?"
Ah, you completely forgot about the drunkard to your right.
Turning to look at Kaeya's reaction, you are stricken by the star-shaped pupil gazing right at you - he hasn't even glanced in the other man's direction, instead fixated on you completely. And that is making wonders to your poor heart.
"Who's that, snowflake?" His tone holds curiosity, but you know your lover, and you know when he is ready to be an ass. You shouldn't encourage this, however…
You'd love to see Kaeya Alberich tell the suitor off for you.
"No idea. But he said I have pretty tits."
He hums at that.
"True, but I would've aimed for that delicious butt. I am a simple man, after all."
You barely slap his hand in time, not nearly as drunk to start touching each other right here and right now. At your jab in his ribs he simply laughs heartily, settling his palm back onto your hip and momentarily redirecting his attention to the troublemaker who's been staring at you two throughout the whole exchange.
"You are not from here, are you?"
Only when your lover says that, do you decide to take in the other man's appearance. Indeed, if you were to look longer at him (not like you were interested) it would be easy to guess Fontaine as his land of origin.
"And what?" He straightens his back and puffs his chest as if trying to intimidate. What a rooster. "Does it prevent me from pursuing a pretty woman from another region?"
Oh, so now it's not simply one flirting remark, but a full-blown pursuit? How troublesome.
"Oh no, no, of course not," honey is dripping off those pretty lips, pulled into a smirk. "It's just that otherwise you'd know it's a bad tone to hit on someone's ex-girlfriend."
Confusion appears on the pursuer's face and you look inquiringly at Kaeya as well. The only answer you get is a wink and a mouthed request to order him a drink. Still perplexed, you nevertheless turn to Charles and ask him to make the Cavalry Captain the usual. 
Meanwhile the man pulls his thoughts together.
"It's stupid! If she is your ex, then how does it not give me the right to date her? Ridiculous. Why do you even hold her like that!?"
The shouting gathers attention from other patrons - some were invested almost from the beginning, seeing how that unknown man tried to make a move on you, and snickering behind their mugs of alcohol at his unawareness of your relationship. 
And Kaeya is all for the show. Many eyes watch as an elegant hand wraps around the glass of his favorite drink and brings it to the silent lips. It feels like everyone stopped breathing and the silence is pressuring, like a string ready to snap and reveal some shocking truth. You, on the other hand, roll your eyes at the male's love for theatrics and put an elbow onto the counter and lean your cheek into your open palm. This is going to be crushing, you almost feel sorry for the guy.
When the Cavalry Captain takes the third sip and sighs in delight - then, and only then, - he looks dead into the other man's eyes, so oppressively that he shrinks under the weight of this cold gaze.
"Maybe because she is my wife?"
If it was physically possible, the drunkard's jaw would hit the floor. The glass, he's been holding just seconds ago, however, follows its destiny, breaking from the impact with floorboards and ruining the prolonged silence and earning a grunt from the barman.
"S-she's what?"
"His wife," you raise your hand and show the ring, getting quite tired and wanting to save at least some of this man's dignity. "So, if you could, please, let us two have our date night. Uninterrupted."
Finally it seems to have him sobered up a little and he starts profusely apologizing to you, to Kaeya, to Charles, to Barbatos and Focalors, while digging his porch with mora out to pay for his drinks and minor damage he caused.
When he stumbles outside and the other patrons stop following the drama, you turn to a contently sipping on his wine Kaeya, who is excelling the nastiest grin on his face.
"Ex-girlfriend? Seriously? That's how you call your wife now?"
"Well, technically I am not wrong, right? Since you are not my girlfriend anymore," he shrugs his shoulders, finishing the last few gulps and putting the glass back onto the counter. 
"Then the next time we meet new people I will introduce you as my ex-boyfriend. What? Technically you are," having his own words being thrown into his face makes Kaeya laugh, and he hugs you tightly, kissing the corner of your mouth.
"Deal. But only once, to make it even. I enjoy being called your husband way more."
10K notes · View notes
catcze · 7 months
Text
⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader
「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡
A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔
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⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」
He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.
He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.
Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.
He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡
"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.
Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"
You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.
He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.
"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."
Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.
When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.
Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.
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⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」
He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.
Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.
What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?
It's with you that he finally finds his answers.
"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"
Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.
You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.
"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."
"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.
"Oh?"
"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."
"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"
"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.
Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.
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⠀「 LYNEY 」
A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!
My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.
Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!
And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!
"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.
"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.
"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.
You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."
"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."
"Okay. Final answer?"
"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"
You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.
When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.
You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"
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⠀「 KAVEH 」
For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.
When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.
If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.
For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.
"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."
"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.
You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.
When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.
"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.
"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.
You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.
"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.
"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.
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⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」
With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.
He intercepts a lot of your attempts!
Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.
Good thing you always rise to challenges.
From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.
"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.
You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."
"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."
"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"
And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.
When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.
"Okay. Now close your eyes."
"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.
"Please?"
"Tell me why, first."
"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"
And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.
When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."
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punkshort · 5 months
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part one
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)
WC: 9.1K
A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.
Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them
Series Masterlist
It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.
This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.
Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.
Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.
You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.
Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.
"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"
"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.
"Where's Mom?" you asked.
"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"
"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."
"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.
"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."
She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.
You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.
"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.
"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."
You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.
"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.
You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.
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The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.
You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.
"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.
"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.
"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.
"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."
"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.
"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.
"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.
"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."
"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.
"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.
"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"
"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.
"How far along are you again?" you asked.
"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.
"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.
"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.
"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.
"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.
If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.
So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.
"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."
"Yeah, I know," you agreed.
"So why were you even with him?"
"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."
"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."
"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.
"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."
"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."
"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.
"Baby names?" you asked.
"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."
You giggled and stood to join her.
"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.
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After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.
Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"
"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.
Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.
A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.
You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.
"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?
"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.
"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."
He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"How do you know Paul and Martha?"
Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.
"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.
"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.
"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.
"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.
"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.
"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.
"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."
"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."
"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."
"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.
"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.
"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"
Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.
"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.
"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.
"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.
"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.
"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.
"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.
You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.
"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"
"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."
You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.
"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"
You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.
"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"
You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.
"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.
"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.
You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.
Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.
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You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.
As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.
Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into
You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.
"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.
"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"
"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"
"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"
"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.
"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.
"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."
"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.
"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!
"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"
"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.
He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.
"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.
"Hey, I'm sorry-"
"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.
"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.
"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."
"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.
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You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.
Oh my god, what if she died?
You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.
Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.
"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.
"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.
"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.
"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.
"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.
"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.
"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.
"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."
You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.
"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."
Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.
"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.
"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.
"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."
You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?
"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"
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Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.
"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.
Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?
You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?
You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?
You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?
You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.
Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?
You giggled and tapped out a reply.
You: I'd love to!
Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7
Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.
You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.
She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.
You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.
"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.
"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.
"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"
"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.
"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.
"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."
"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.
"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.
"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"
"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."
"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."
"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.
"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.
"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."
"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.
"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.
"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.
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Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.
But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.
Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.
For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.
Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.
Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.
Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.
"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.
"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.
"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.
"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.
"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.
"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.
"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.
"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."
Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.
"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."
Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.
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"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.
You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.
Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.
"Yeah, did you?"
"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."
You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.
"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.
"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."
"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.
"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.
"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.
"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.
"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.
"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.
"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.
"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."
"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.
"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.
"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."
His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.
"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.
"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."
You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.
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Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.
"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.
"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.
"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.
"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"
You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.
"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.
"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.
"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.
"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.
"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.
"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.
"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.
"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.
"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.
"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.
"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.
"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.
"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.
All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.
"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.
"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.
Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.
A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.
"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.
Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.
"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.
After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.
You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.
He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.
You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.
"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.
You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.
"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."
"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.
Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.
Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.
Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.
His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.
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thatmexisaurusrex · 2 years
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That's My Cat!
Here's my fic for my "FWB" square for my Sam Wilson Bingo card, for @samwilsonbingo! 🥰 Enjoy!
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Photo's from unsplash.
That's My Cat!
| Pairing: SamBucky | Rating: M | WC: 7K |
Summary: When Sam and Bucky are found wrestling in their underwear in the Avengers' locker room, a few rumors start to spread.
Excerpt:
“You too?” said Sam giddily as he took off his goggles. “Yeah. I found him meowing up a storm on my apartment balcony. Starving. I let her in and she’s been in and out of my life ever since,” said Bucky as he pulled off his sleeve for no reason… then his other sleeve. Why did Bucky have a Magic Mike tactical jacket? “I found Figaro the same way. Sort of,” said Sam, “I found her wandering near my apartment balcony, with these big sad eyes and these whimpery mewls for food. She wanders in and out of my apartment now. I’ve gotten her a million cat trees. I probably spoil her to death.” “Huh,” said Bucky as he unzipped what had become a tactical vest to reveal the Wilson Family Seafood sleeveless shirt he must have stolen from Sam at some point, “What a coincidence. Maybe there was a cat mom around who had a litter near our apartment complex.”
READ THE REST ON AO3!
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you.
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader
Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.
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Part 2
Buggy
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"You two get your asses down now!" You yelled, trying to stop the two blue haired boys from destroying the restaurant further. Your two identical twins sons where only 11 years old but they were trouble- Double Trouble as everyone called them. Benny and Danny, who had given themselves the Nicknames of Bee and Dee- cause of course they did.
It wasnt just their dramatic tendencies, destructive nature or lack of volume control that made them silkar to a know pirate but also their appearance Who was non other then- Buggy the Clown. While they did lack the trademarked rounded red nose. They did get almost everything else- Long nlue locks, watercolor eyes and that crooked smile of theirs- it really wasn't fair how your genes didn't even have a chance-
It hasn't exactly been your best of moments when you conceived your children- Having been a performer on the famous pirate ship you ended up sleeping with your Captian one night on his Silly Throne. A few weeks later you started to feel unwell and realized you had been pregnant. In a moment of panic you fled the ship the next time it docked- Running from your Crew and Captian to never be seen again.
Once realizing you were on your own. You did what you could to make a living- opening a flashy little restaurant and using it to raise your two trouble makers. Dee running past you with a giggle snapped you from your thoughts, frowning as you set down your customers order infront of them before following the boy.
"Mom Mom! Look!" Bee yelled as he stood on one of the tables pointing out the window of the restaurant at the open ocean, Dee taking his place next to his twin. You walked closer to see what your son was looking at, the fog being thick that night as you tried to focus on what he was seeing.
Squinting your eyes you finally saw it- a Ship. As your eyes focused you saw the Jolly Roger and gasped, Ice feeling like it ran through your vain. You grabbed the boys quickly and backed away from the window. As if on cue the alarms set to alert that pirates had arrived. The sounds of canons hitting the town soon peirced through the alarms and the whole town erupted in chaos. You rush from the windows to the back of your restaurant.
Rushing down the stairs you knew Buggy and the crew would level the town to ashes. The best place to hid being the cellar, while it was small it would hopefully keep you and your boys safe. "Mom what's happening!?" Dee cried as he did his best to keep up with your fast pace. You didn't bother responding as you rushed to the old underground cellar lifting the rug and opened its little door.
"Mom I don't want to go down there!" Bee cried as you lowered him in the cellar first, Dee following soon after as you tried to sooth them.
"I know I know my loves, But do as I say- Stay quiet and-"
You paused as you heard the sound of crashing from out in the dining room followed by screams. Quickly you climbed in with your boys and lowered the wooden door of the cellar above you and frantically tried to place the rug so it fell onto it before plunging you and your sons in darkness.
You sat there shaking, holding your boys close to your chest as you heard the sound of someone walking towards you. Your hands shaking as you held them closer, feeling the moisture of your sons tears soaking into your dress.
You heard the sound of footsteps starting to search the room above you. Previously looking for valuables or anything interesting-
"Captian! I found the liquor!" The voice above you called out, Clearly grabbing the cases of rum that sat in the room above. Heavier footsteps followed into the room, hearing the cackle that made your skin stand up on end.
"Grab it all and whatever people you can find! We have a show tonight afterall!" You heard Buggy voice sound. The crew mate clearly rushing out with the cases while Buggy remained. You heard him turn through the room, ready to leave before his heavy steps landed on the cellar door above you it's old wood groaning at the weight. Your eyes widened as you realized you'd been caught, Without time to react the door was ripped open and you couldn't help but release a scream.
Buggy- In his hands you see his signature blades as he grinned down in the cellar. Reaching down and grabbing you by the hair and yanking you out-
"A new audience memeber!- wait" He raised an eyebrow as he held you up higher by your hair and looked over your crying face. His eyes looking over your face. "I know you... (Y/N)?" He asked questionably before his eyes shot to see a flash of blue dart at him and kick him as another one came to try and pull you from his grasp.
"Let her go!" "LEAVE OUR MAMA ALONE!" Your boys desperately screamed as they weakly tried to attack the man holding you. Buggy dropping you quickly as he stared down at the three of you, You quickly pulling the boys away from him and behind you.
A awkward silence following this as Buggy released a shaky breath before laughing loudly. A insane laugh that had him doubled over, before looking at you again with crazed eyes. A few crew members coming into the room after hearing their Captian laugh, especially at the sight of you, their former crewmate and two boys that looked like their Captian.
"Freaks, Take these three and lock them in my personal Quarters. We got a family reunion!"
Shanks
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"Mommy I have Missy Luc-ia ready!" You heard your daughter call out. Setting out the freshly frosted cupcake, onto the countertop, that she was just barely taller then. Smiling down at the bright face before you- She may be only 4 but she was the sweetest girl.
"Thank you Vivian. Can you grab the order list for Mommy?" You ask, getting an exaggerated nod and running off. Her mess of bright red hair bouncing with each step. A little clone of her dad, The famed Shanks 'Red Hair' a former fling of yours.
It had been a nice little relationship you two shared, him coming by every other week to meet with you when his ship restocked. Buying random pastries you knew he bought to get close to you, always complimenting your Baking skills and sweetness. Which ended up to many passionate nights both in your own bed and on Shanks ship. The last time you met, Shanks told you he had to go for a while and didn't know if he's return. Tears shed as you watched him set sail- having the feeling you'd never see him again.
As if the gods had sympathy for you or wanted to use you as a cruel joke you fell pregnant. Giving birth to your daughter who ended up being a Shanks part 2. A giggly and happy baby with unique red hair, while she was a perfect mix of the two of you in terms of face she inherited Shank's smile, hair and eye shape.
As you packed the poorly frosted cupcake that your daughter had made. Ignoring the fingerprints in its frosting- you hit it in the back of the fridge you'd never tell her you couldn't sell it since she had eaten part of her work and replaced it with the true finishes product to be delivered.
As you finished your packing you heard the bell of your bakery door chime.
"Welcome to the Sweet treats bakery, how can I help yo-" the words froze to your lips as you saw Shanks. Eyes wide at seeing him again, it was clear he had delt with some serious wear and tear by how the world seemed to settle on his shoulders a bit more.
"(Y/N) long time no see" He said softly as he stared at you, mentally still trying to process what you were seeing. He stepped forward, Looking ready to explain himself away before the sound of tiny footsteps drew him in- Seeing the little girl holding a notepad with all your orders and running to you. Out of muscle memory you scooped your daughter and placed her on your hip, she smiled at you and held the order book out to you again which you gingerly took.
"Here you go Mommy!" She chimed, Looking at you as she noted your shocked face. Her gaze following the now shocked man, He looked like a breeze could knock him down as he stared at her then you then her again.
"Shes mine isn't she?" Shanks asked, his eyes never leaving the little girl on your hip. Vivian looking at Shank's then you confused at what was taking place. Before you could respond however it seemed Shank's answered his own question. Laughing loudly in utter joy and jumping forward towards you, scaling the countertop like it wasn't even there and crashed his lips against yours happily.
"Ha! I'm a Dad!!" He cheered, Taking his one arm around you and starting to spin you and Vivian who at first was scared. But hearing the giggles from the man started to as well- the two even laughed the same which made the Red Haired man even happier.
"Y-Yes Shanks. She is yours...This is Vivian" You said softly, watching Shanks lean in close to view his daughter. It was like he had found the most amazing treasure in the world and it shone in his eyes.
"Vivian, Such a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl in the world" He said in awe, earning a shy smile from Vivian.
"Vi, This is... this is your Daddy" You say softly, watching Vivian look up at you then back at Shanks. Hesitant at first before holding out her arms tk him, taking the opportunity he scooped her up in his single arm and held her close. Tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at her delicate face, her chubby little fingers touching his face and looking over him.
"You're my Daddy?" She asked innocently. A smile breaking over Shanks face as he nodded and held her close, tears pouring down his face.
"That's right baby girl- I'm your Daddy"
Mihawk
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It had been 16 long years since you had laid eyes on Mihawk- a simple one night stand that had long consequences that followed. Your son, your beautiful baby boy who you named Alucare.
It had been at a bar, the two of you drinking and simply talking. Before one thing lead to another in the alleyway next to the bar- You truthfully cringed at the thought of how embarrassing it was to be undone by a few nice words, a charming warlord and some drinks.
"Mother, which one did you want?" Your son asked, snapping you from your thoughts pointing to the fishmongers selection, his emotionless face like a carbon copy of his father's.
Truthfully he looked too much like his damn father- same yellow eyes, black hair, very tall form, stoic face the only thing missing was the facial hair Which you thanked The Gods for since you didn't think you could stare at your one night stands face forever. Alucare did have some differences, he had your nose as well as kept his hair longer. The thick spicy locks hitting the center of his back which you helped him care for. But truthfully that was really it-
You also knew that other people would star long at your boy, a few times Marines having come up to see your son when he was walking to school or going to the market. He knew who his father was, having Marines who had seen him in battle tell him as much. However he never seemed to care, just giving them a frosty look that made them back away before leaving. Whenever you'd brought up the topic of His father he often would sit quietly for a few moments before saying he wasn't interested in such a conversation which you respected.
"Hmm, that one is fresher-" You say sweetly as your boy grabs the fish and plops it in the basket, Handing the merchant the berries.
Always the gentleman he would take your arm in his as the two of you walked. He would hold the heavier baskets and give you only bread or a small bag of fruit. He was too kind as a child, you felt bad at times at how his eyes seemed to know the struggles you had faced when he was born and tried to help you out now that he was older besides your persistence.
"Alucare, I heard from your teachers yoh got very high marks again. Do you want to celebrate? Maybe a nice dinner is in order? Or-"
"It's just a test Mother. No need for so much trouble" He said softly, giving a hint of a smile at his words. You chuckled at him and shook your head. Stubborn too.
You felt your son stop midstep- Glancing up at him as his face turned to stone before your eyes.
"Honey?" You call to him, before following his gaze at what had caught his attention. Across the market a dark figure stood, You immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach as you knew instantly who it was- Mihawk standing there with the same stoic expression as Alucare but his eyes seemed to be a bit wider. Most likely the closest to shock that could come over his face-
You tugged slightly to turn back, not wanting to create a accidental scene but your son clearly had other plans. Instead starting to walk again, His arm still holding yours as he kept his gaze at Mihawk. You expected Alucare to stop infront of Mihawk- a blowup or something but. No.
Alucare just walked past Mihawk- Like he wasn't even there. His face staying forward as no words passed. As you continued to walk you turned to look behind you where you saw Mihawk, he seemed to stagger on his feet like someone had finally peirced him with a blade.. but it seemed to be a invisible one to his heart.
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cherryredstars · 20 days
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Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Nervous Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Jerking Off, Praise
Summary: Milkshakes and shaking cars
A/N: It has been long awaited… Part 2!!
Word Count: 3K (Barely Edited)
Part 1
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Shit, maybe he fucked up. 
His heart is practically racing as he pulls into your driveway, your pretty little smile turning towards him promising to only take a minute. He throws a weak smirk your way, watching the sway of your skirt as you run up the drive and through the front door. The second it closes, his smile drops and he’s tearing up his car. The stickiness in his boxers is starting to be uncomfortable, and he pops open the glove department, rummaging around until he finds old paper napkins. He looks up and around, checking all his blind spots, before wincing and pushing his legs up, hurriedly unzipping his pants and stuffing the napkins past the waistband of his boxers. They come back with random dark patches from the crinkled rush, and he cringes as he looks around his front seat. Fuck! He really doesn’t think things through! 
His head is on a swivel as he tries to find a place to put the soiled napkins, eventually popping open the coin holder on the left side of the steering wheel and shoving them in there. It takes a few slams and rapid stuffing to get it to close, and Miguel lets out a deep sigh as he readjusts himself in his seat. His eyes turn to the rearview mirror, his hand rapidly coming up to face it towards him as best as he can. His red eyes stare back at him, and he leans further back, turning his head either way to get a look at his hair. He curses when he sees its disheveled state. He looks like a fucking clown. Fuck him and his need to defend a pretty girl’s honor and then fuck her stupid after. He runs both his hands through his hair, ruffling it up and then smoothing it down again into its perfectly styled look. 
Movement in his peripheral makes him look past his rearview mirror, his eyes focusing on the good little thing walking down her front door steps and towards his car. He can’t help himself when he lets out a low groan, shifting in his seat as he takes in an eyeful. She’s going to be the death of him, with her innocent little smile and her pretty little dress. All for him. God, what did he do to get so fucking lucky. When you make it to the hood of his car, you give him a bashful smile, eyes going to the ground as you round the car and get into the passenger seat. You fix the dress over yourself once you sit down, trying your best to look pretty and proper. His eyes fall to your legs, the sticky trail that was there before gone. While he’s slightly disappointed the mark he has on you is gone, he’s more than happy to do it again when the time is right. His eyes come back up to your face, your doe eyes blinking up at him. He can’t help the slow smile that comes across his face, his hand grabbing one of yours off your lap and bringing it up to his mouth. 
Your hand is warm as he presses his lips to your knuckle, the sweet scent of vanilla drifting into his senses. A fire lights your cheeks as you watch him, and Miguel smirks against your skin despite the fluttering in his stomach. He clears his throat as he leans back up, hands returning to the wheel as he begins pulling out of your driveway. Once he’s made it to the main road, one of his hands comes back to your hand, lacing your fingers together. 
“How do you feel about milkshakes?”
___________
It’s not really busy. 
A cute, obviously family-owned place. It’s made to look retro, something he hopes you appreciate. It’s a decent diner, somewhere nice to hangout and get cheap food. A classic date spot. Maybe a bit too classic or unspecial. Maybe the wrong place to take someone like you. Maybe he fucked up. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, prepared to take you somewhere else when you squeal. His eyes cut to you, and his breath leaves him the moment he catches sight of your wide smile and glistening eyes. You’re rambling on about how cute the place looks, saying something about how happy you are that you chose a dress that is on theme with the small diner’s color scheme. He just can’t help it. Miguel leans over the center console and reaches out his hand to rest under your chin, your head turns away from the windshield and you let out the cutest squeak the second his lips press against yours. 
When he pulls away, he’s met with your dopey eyes. He smiles down at you, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip before he leans further away and pulls his keys from the ignition. You’re still giving him those pretty doe eyes when he opens his car door, throwing a lazy smile your way. You’re jolted out of your haze when he closes the door, blinking rapidly to clear the glaze covering your eyes. Your head turns rapidly at the sound of your door opening, finding Miguel holding the edge of the door with a single hand as he rests his other arm against the roof of the car. He’s bent down, smirking at you still. “You coming, princesa?”
That familiar blush still colors your cheeks and you nod shyly, watching as Miguel moves over to make room for your exit. You step out quickly, looking up at him once you’ve fully exited the car. Miguel smiles down at you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear before looking past you and closing the car door. His arm comes around the back of your neck, hanging on your shoulders and keeping you to his side. The smell of him surrounds you, causing you to go slightly dizzy. He always smells good, but mixed into his usual cologne is the smell of sex, making your cheeks darken and for you to face away from him. He catches the movement from the corner of his eye, chuckling as he squeezes you tighter against his side and placing a small kiss to the top of your head. He swears he could feel the exact moment your knees buckled before you get ahold of yourself.
Once you step inside the small place, the light ringing of a silver bell greets the two of you. The place smells strongly of coffee and ice cream, a pleasant combination. He can feel the way your head moves as you take in the interior, focusing on the vintage-like posters decorating the walls as he leads you towards a corner booth. He lets you slide in first, following right after you and practically smashing you against the wall and his side. His arm finds its place over the top of your seat again, resting comfortable over the even-leveled top of the booth seat. A waitress comes up soon after, an older woman in the classic waitress outfit. You give her a kind smile, and Miguel takes one of the menus she offers, giving it to you to browse over. With a promise to come back in a bit, the waitress leaves the two of you. 
Miguel just sits and stares, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as you look over the menu. It’s silent between the two of you, not that he minds. He likes studying your face as you contemplate what you want, watching as you bite your bottom lip or your fingers come to play with it. Every now and then you ask him his opinion on some of the things on the menu, causing Miguel to lean in and speak against your ear like he’s telling a secret. It’s obvious that you don’t really listen to what he’s telling you, he can see it on your face as it heats up and your eyes glaze over. He finds it cute, reminding him to go back to his usual teasing. Eventually, you decide to stick to a simple milkshake and a serving of fries and Miguel calls over the waitress to give her the two orders and the menu. 
It won’t take long for the order to come to the table, so Miguel entertains you through simple conversation. He comments on your dress, showering you in compliments that eventually has you burying your head into his side out of embarrassment. Miguel chuckles at your natural cuteness, his arm coming down from the top of the booth and wrapping around your shoulders so he can place a kiss to your head once again. By the time the blush on your cheeks has died down, the waitress comes back with two milkshakes and a basket of fries. She leaves the two of you with a smile, promising to be nearby if the two of you need anything. You’re obviously thankful for the cold treat, taking a sip of it in hopes of cooling you down more. Miguel smiles as he watches you, ignoring the way his cock stirs as your throat bobs with every quick swallow. Miguel clears his throat once again, turning to his own milkshake and taking sips from it. He starts up conversation again, something more tame that won’t make your cheeks heat up. He enjoys the small giggles you let out as he talks to you, laughing along when you can’t eat a fry in fear that you’ll choke on it from all your giggling. It’s nice and calm, almost distracts him entirely from the hard on he’s sporting because anything you do is insanely hot to him. But then, you’re cutting him off mid-sentence as you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, a drop of his milkshake on your finger that disappears as you hesitantly look up at him and lick at it. Yup, the death of him. 
Miguel curses, looking away from you and fishing in his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls it out quickly, slapping two 20s on the table before getting out of the booth. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, yelping when he grabs your hand and drags you with him towards the door. You let out a stuttering protest that falls on deaf ears, the sound of the silver bell ringing behind you as the door closes. In seconds, Miguel brings the both of you to his car, pining you to the side of it as he smashes his lips against yours. His hands hold tight to your waist as yours clutch his shoulders. A small whimper leaves you as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and he groans the second your mouth opens. You taste sweet, like whipped cream and ice cream and a bit of salt. Fuck, isn’t it just addicting. Miguel pulls away from you once he starts going light-headed, his eyes still drawn to your lips as you take deep breaths. 
“Get in the backseat, please.” Miguel mumbles, his hands tightening at your waist. You blink, not quite hearing what he said. Miguel groans, resting his forehead against your own as he tries to tame his raging hormones. He repeats it, just loud enough for you to hear, sighing in relief when you nod your head slowly and he hears the slight click of the door handle. He follows after you, sitting in the center seat before pulling you into his lap. You let out another yelp, your legs spreading to fit on either side of his lap. The noise you make when his lips meet yours again is calmer, more expectant as your hands go to his hair. He moans against your lips as you tug slightly, pulling him closer to you and making him curse. When he pulls away, his face goes to your neck, his own hands going to your hair to pull your head back to give him more access. 
“Miguel!” You call out when he sucks slightly on the column of your throat, “D-did I do something? What-” You’re cut off by your own gasp as Miguel bites lightly at the junction between your shoulder and neck, soothing it over with a few licks. 
“Yes?”, he mumbles against your skin, his fingers moving the straps of your dress down your shoulders, leaving them hanging against your upper arm, allowing him more room to kiss your soft skin. “No?” He retraces his steps back up your neck, coming face to face with you again. “Does it matter?”
You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off again by Miguel’s lips. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning against him. Miguel hisses when your body shifts, rubbing against the front of his jeans. He pulls away from the kiss, his hand cradling your head as he slowly begins to lean you back. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, letting him guide you until your back hits the center console. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but you quickly forget about it the second Miguel lifts up the bottom of your dress and starts kissing the exposed skin of your stomach. A soft noise leaves you as his slightly cold lips glide over your skin, causing you to squirm slightly. Miguel drinks up those sweet noises, his hand going to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down until he’s able to free his aching cock. His kisses go further down your body as he gives himself slow tugs, groaning the second his mouth is pressed against the growing damp spot in your panties. 
They’re a different pair from the ones you had on earlier, but just as easy to move to the side as he leans back. You whimper once you feel the air against your wet folds, cheeks blushing as you're exposed to him again. Your cunt is still puffy from what he has done to you earlier, but all signs of his seed are gone. He’ll just have to fix that. His eyes come up to you, studying the way you bite your lip in anticipation, eyes cloudy with need. “You’re going to be the death of me, y’know that, pretty girl?”
You reply with a moan, head leaning forward as Miguel begins to push into you. You’re already so fucking wet, walls eagerly tightening around him, welcoming him home. Miguel lets out a curse the second he bottoms out, a wet click sounding. Miguel’s hands come up to your waist, your dress bunching around his fingers as he begins to pull you back off and on his dick. He can get drunk on the wet noises that greet his ears the second he slides in and out of your slick walls. Only second to the pleading tone of your voice as you beg him to go faster. 
Miguel can’t deny his sweet little baby anything, moving his hips faster. You both moan out, breathy little squeals leaving your mouth as Miguel throws his head back against the seat. He can hear the car groaning slightly as it begins to shake, and Miguel grits his teeth when he feels your walls fluttering. “Fuck, that’s it. Good girl, taking it so well, yeah?”
You babble something back, nodding your head along to him as he thrusts into you. His hand comes down to your clit, watching the way you thrash and your legs kick out. Miguel can’t help but smirk, watching the way your legs shake at a few rubs. “Oh baby, don’t tell me you’re still sensitive, my sweet girl.”
You only whimper, back arching off the console as the similar burning sensation begins to form in your stomach. Your hips begin moving, grinding against his lap as he feeds your greedy cunt more of his cock. Miguel moans out, mouth dropping open as his lashes flutter. He presses harder against your bud, giving it a few rough flicks before you cry out and your body collapses back onto the console. He’s hypnotized as he watches you convulse around his cock, your walls pulsating rapidly against him. He fucks you through your orgasm, cursing as you milk him for all he’s worth. “Fuck, yes. So goddamn tight for me, baby. Got me addicted to you.”
You moan out his name, your hands grabbing at the seats on their side of your body. You try to pull yourself off of him, sensitivity prickling your bones. Miguel is quick to see it, his hands reaching up to pull your hands up and into him, forcing the rest of your body to come and fall against his chest. You cry out at the new angle, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Miguel grunts, hands returning to your waist and rubbing soothing circles through your dress. 
“Sh, sh, come back to me sweet girl,” Miguel coos at you as your walls clench around him again, signaling the approach of a second orgasm. You pant heavily, whimpering as you loll your head forward, resting it against Miguel’s. Miguel gives you a breathless smile, his hold tightening on your waist. “Good girl, there she is. Knew that you could do it.”
You whine at the praise, eyes fluttering closed slowly. Miguel tilts his head up, moaning the moment your lips instantly start moving with his. His hips thrust into you faster, drowning out your moans. Miguel’s brows furrow, ignoring the car’s loud squeaking. He’s so close, can fill it about to explode. He pulls his mouth away from yours, one of his hands coming up to pull your hair away from your face. Your eyes are glassy as you stare at him, lips swollen and covered in spit. You look like a fucking goddess. 
“Miguel, please.” Sound just like one, too
“Fuck, okay. Okay, I got you, just…fuck” Miguel groans out, jackhammering into you desperately. 
You squeal, arms coming to wrap around his neck before you pull him into a kiss. Miguel’s eyes shut tight as his thrusts get sloppy, whimpering against your lips as the rope inside his stomach snaps. You whine against his lips as warmth fills you, squirming in his lap even as he’s stopped thrusting. You both pull away, Miguel resting his head on your shoulder as he breathes deeply. He places a delicate kiss to your skin, his hand rubbing you back to help you calm down. Eventually you pull away, a shy smile on your face. Miguel smiles back at you, watching as you look around. “The windows are foggy.”
Miguel chuckles, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 
“Date me?”
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@opalwitchart @peachey-pie @9rfa
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